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[ "With a flash of light and heat, a massive creature of inexplicable definition pushed it's magnificent scale into my kitchen, splintering wood, melting metal, and nauseating me with the acrid stench of sulfur and brimstone. I sputtered and, with a cry, flung myself pathetically over my chair onto the floor, taking my bowl of cheerios with me. As I cowered on the floor, struggling to parse the unbelievable stream of information pounding my mortal, sleep-addled brain, I felt fluid pooling around my legs, and was unsure whether it was my spilled milk and cereal or I had pissed myself. And, as chunks of insulation and wood clattered to the floor, I heard it speak:\n\n\"Oh shit. Oh shit, dude! My bad, dude!\"\n\nCautiously, I peered my head over the ruin of my overturned dinner table, expecting some strange death to take me before I could behold the monumental form crouching over the glowing basin it had blasted in my floor with it's sudden arrival. It was massive - even crouching, it's back scraped the jagged wreckage of the ceiling. It's rippling muscles were robed in leathery crimson flesh drenched with minute black spikes that bristled like quills. \n\n\"Jesus-fuckin'-Christ, what is this?\" I coughed, dusting myself off as I stood from behind the table.\n\nThe creature waggled a finger at me accusingly.\n\n\"Hey, I know I just busted up your spot, but you shouldn't swear like that, dude!\" \n\nI grunted, surprised at the creature's scolding. \n\n\"No way,\" I sighed, rubbing the little remaining sleepiness out of my eyes, \"This can't be real. What are you, some kind of demon?\"\n\nIt nodded excitedly, and I noticed with a jolt that it had glowing plumes of fire for eyes.\n\n\"Yeah, man! Just like David Grohl in The Pick of Destiny!\" then, noticing the look of confusion on my face, added, \"Look it up!\"\n\n*Well, that answers... something,* I thought, rubbing my chin. Looking over the demon's shoulder, I noticed the blasted debris of my coffee maker splattered across the remnants of my counter, and sighed.\n\n\"So, uh... what is it that you want?\" \n\nThe demon shrugged, and shifted uncomfortably. I saw a wall stud digging into it's side and, meekly, realized that it could probably smash the thing into splinters with little effort.\n\n\"Just to hang out, you know?\" \n\n\"You're kidding,\" I sighed, kicking my cereal bowl across the floor, \"You fuckin' wrecked my pad.\"\n\n\"I know, man,\" the demon hung it's head, \"Look, I'm sorry though. I totally understand if you want me to dip. I can make it up to you, though.\"\n\nI cocked my eyebrow.\n\n\"Do I have to sell my soul?\"\n\n\"Nah, dude! Here, check it out!\"\n\nWith a low rumble and an explosive release of eviscerating earth, a glowing crevasse of flame-scorched yawned open before the demon like the maw of some ancient hellspawn. A swarm of chittering bats rushed past me as a chorus of a thousand screaming souls vaulted obsidian-boned skeletons drenched with magma from the Pit, producing, with a flourish, an ornate chest bedecked in glittering gems and shining gold. In a fluid motion that belied his cramped position next to my fridge, the demon flung open the lid, revealing a mountain of gold coins that flashed and dazzled in the morning light, emblazoned each with the image of a grinning skull. \n\nIt was fucking metal.\n\nI stood with my mouth open for some time, enchanted by the incalculable wealth before me. When I finally recaptured my composure, the demon was uneasily shuffling onto it's feet. \n\n\"Hey, uh,\" I trailed off, \"Be... Be careful out there. Also, thanks?\"\n\n\"Oh yeah, no sweat! I'll hit you back a beer sometime, alright? Later!\" \n\nThe demon squatted on it's hooved legs and, unfurling it's tattered wings, leapt through my roof with a deafening crunch, sending bits of drywall and dust into the air like a storm. He was gone when I lowered my arm, along with half my house, leaving me alone with a fortune in gold and no cereal.", "Hell is not the place to go if you want to make friends. People condemned to hell tend not to be the kindest souls you will ever encounter. It does get rather lonely. Conversations usually are shared complaints. The smell, the heat, the bugs crawling into your skin, all anyone ever does is complain. There is no such thing as common fucking courtesy.\n \"Hi! How are you today, Judas?\" \n\"Oh I am fantastic thank you for asking!\" THAT would make hell at least one hundred times more tolerable. \n\nSorry I forgot introductions. My name is Twyla. I am a demon. But, I am really not as bad as everyone thinks I am. Sure sometimes I possess people but I never want to hurt them. It's just my job to temporarily take over their bodily functions. Well anyway, a few days ago by apocalypse or happy accident, I was literally (along with the other demons) sprung free from hell. Earth is magnificent. I understand more why the condemned complain all of the time. Earth has everything! You could walk up to a magic, brightly lit container, put in plastic or paper and be rewarded with the most delicious morsels in the world. There is this thing called \"Her sheys\" and I am pretty sure it is what heaven tastes like. People dress themselves inside of giant buildings for fun! Then when they become bored they simply hop in multi-colored transportation vessels that take them wherever they want. Humans are quite clever actually. They can even control the temperature of their environments. They are quite friendly too. This one kind man in a tunnel gave me a free bag of a \"pot\". He told me to smoke it. He didn't talk to me after I breathed fire onto the bag. Apparently humans can't spit fire through their mouths, noses, ears, or even eyes. \n\nI look like them too! I always thought my yellow hair was odd but where I am, I have relized it is quite common. Some men even comment on my exceptional ordinary look by whistling. They do not take it as an equal compliment when you whistle back. Other females act irritated by such interaction. I am still researching this anomaly. People keep beasts on leashes or in clothes resembling their own. I have learned that when you see one of these beast owning people it is not polite to offer to cook their beast for them. They like them raw I think. \n\nEarth is amazing. The apocalypse is not nearly as bad as everyone thought it would be. It seems like the only thing the humans are noticing is the increase in outdoor temperature. As interesting as they are, people are rather unobservant. They are also rather odd. They eat a lot of complicated meals only to complain about how much they ate. I have learned it is custom to order something you announce to everyone else that you, \"definitely should NOT get.\" Their form of exchange is strange. Humans try to obtain more paper so they can spend it on actual tangible goods. Yet, it is not the goods that is the goal it is the paper. I wish I was at one time a human like the rest of them. Everything seems so amazing. I have made at least thirty two friends since my arrival. If you give them the paper they like then these people will be so hospitable and welcoming. I have never felt happier. All of their \"creature comforts\" are fit for Satan himself. I hope I never have to go back. God must have really loved these humans to give them all of these wonderful things. For once I wish I was on the other side. I can't wait to make more friends. One gentleman told me if I take off all of my clothes and make milkshakes all of the males in my area will come to my yard!\n", "“So how is it?”\n\nThe imp looked at me expectantly. His big eyes gazing up at me filled with hope.\n\n“It's...” I searched for a way to say uncooked hamburger without sounding disappointed.\n\n“It's not exactly how you prepare this type of meat.” The 2 foot tall demon with his overly large head, saucer eyes, hooves, ram's horns, and pointed tail looked crestfallen. Great tears welled in his eyes and sizzled away leaving the scent of the sulfur pit the demons had started emerging from all over the world.\n\n“No no no, don't cry!” I was gripped in a panic, Steve's downturns in mood always attracted insects and rotted things. I had spent last night attempting to pander to the pitiful demon and keep him from spoiling what was left of my PowerBars and Raisin Bran in the cupboards. I made mental note to pick up a sieve for the rice and thanked god the fridge offered some protection. Well... it had before Steve figured out doors.\n\n“It's just this is cow, you cook cow, you probably meant to make Sushi which is raw fish. Honest mistake, anyone that had never met a mammal before wouldn't know.” The demons we all had learned weren't actually demons. They were the first sentient beings that had fled into the Earth's crust after what they described as every volcano simultaneously erupting. The dinosaurs were suppose to let them know when it was safe to come out. They dinosaurs had apparently decided better of it. I could sympathize.\n\n“I'll make you fish tomorrow then!” Steve's moods were easy to turn around, and what many had assumed were mystical qualities were in fact subconsciously driven symbiotic events that drew out local carrion animals, insects and bacteria to counteract their destructive physiology. In a high oxygen environment primarily inhabited by super flora the demons had literally cultivated the earliest life. Fungi and plant life around the demons changed rapidly and insects were drawn to imperceptible sounds and vibrations they emitted beyond the scope of our senses. They were like individual volcanic calderas super driving plant growth and adaptations through rapid life cycles. \n\nUnfortunately for me I worked for a major pharmaceutical company as a Pharmer. I had been blissfully indifferent to the appearance of the demons, until their biology had destroyed billions of dollars in patented R&D. Overnight the leading GMOs producers went into a panic. I had been plucked out of my lab and made to work with a lawyer to legalese a stop-gap measure through congress that claimed our parent company had created the proverbial vestigial tail present in the super crops currently exploding all over the world. Sure some of what we had done was still there, but little Steve's had emerged all over and now the end of the anthropocene had come and the beginning of (or return to) the Daemocene was upon us.\n\nSteve hovered around my ankles his smile revealing his sharkish grin and his tail writhed happily. I had taken the hamburger and added it to a skillet to make sloppy joe meat, the smell of browning hamburger caused Steve to drool. This made him excited which of course caused my house plants to flower. This sent me into a fit of pollen fueled sneezes and spasms because my god damned hermetically sealed home didn't have house plants until Steve had decided to follow me home from the lab. \n\n\nSteve ate the majority of the sloppy Joe meat straight from the still hot pan while my stomach churned antihistamines and water. I silently wished for a one man rapture to take me away while I wondered what other people that didn't live with a demon were doing. Probably watching TV and delighting in the antics of the demons from afar. I missed TV. The first night in my house a Discovery Channel special on alligators sent Steve into a fit of rage and he destroyed my television. Apparently he had some residual animosity towards reptiles.\n\nToo miserable to eat I popped some sleeping pills and lay under a thermal blanket facing the wall. Upholstery and cloth didn't do well around demons. Neither did wood. My bed frame was now a nurse log to a new species of fern that was miserably sappy. As well as cactusy, which I'd stopped trying to make sense of. I was just happy the plants that sprang into existence in my home so far were not totally lethal. Yet... QED.\n\nSteve *of course* sat nearby and stared at me intently making little sounds of fidgeting while I drifted off to a drug addled sleep. Drowsy thoughts floated through my mind as I tried to ignore the little demons perversely happy existence and incessant nearness. I was glad to be leaving him to cultivate my backyard tomorrow while I got some actual work done in the lab. Very exciting work... the government nuts and corporate security guys could monitor Steve for a day. From a distance, through their hidden cameras. Lucky bastards...\n\n***\n\n“Do you like it?”\n\nSteve had rushed to the door to present me with the plate of fish. Magnificent specimens mostly intact glistened and shed scales as they slid about the plate. My prized Koi... I'd completely forgotten about them because they were mechanically fed. Steve hadn't been able to wait for me to get home and had taken a few bites out of them...\n\n“I. Love. It.” The respirator and goggles helped sell the lie and hide my tears.\n\nSteve beamed at me and handed me one of the fish and then walked away while chewing absentmindedly on Ariel. Holding my dead fish in my armpit I stared up at my now mossy ceiling and debated leaving. But all over the world scientists like myself knew how screwed we all were. Even if we contained and quarantined the little demons our GMOs were expanding out of control. They were resistant to poison, insects, and now humans. Machetes, flame throwers, it didn't matter. Threshing machines warped their blades trying to process our evolved strands. The applications for the new plants would be exciting if they weren't choking out towns, roads, and impervious to consumption. We were losing our food. Without Steve's help and my know how the world was completely and utterly doomed.\n\n“Are you going to eat that?” Steve tugged on my rubber waders. I let Sebastian fall from my armpit and splat on the ground.\n\n“Nah Steve.” I stared down at the cause and solution to the worlds problems. Covered in fish gore.", "\"OH MY GOD! Stan the Demons are loose!\"\nScreamed Debbie, \"What?! What more could they want from us?!\" She said crying at this point.\n\"What's going on, Deborah?\" Stan asked. Then there was a loud thumping at the door.\n\"Oh God! They're here! Why meeee?\" She cried.\nStan went over and opened the door. \"Hey, do you want some chile con carné? We have some leftover from din..\"\n\"Why don't you just leave us alone?\" Deborah screamed in the most exasperated voice.\n\"Dammit Deborah, they're just trying to be kind neighbors; wouldya shut up,\" responded Stan as he accepted the doff from the Hoffmanns. A very twisted looking couple, but you could see the love in their eyes.\"Thank you very much, sorry about how Debbie's acting right now.\"\n\"Oh it's no worry; we don't take offense,\" the two said in a perfect sync with a goosebumpingly deep voice. \"Hope you have a safe night.\"\n", "“Stop hugging people,” I shouted, clenching my fists. “You’re setting them all on fire!” \n\nThe demon, Snoopy as I’d named him, hung his floppy-eared head in shame and dropped his latest smoldering victim at my feet. “Sorry.” \n\nI rolled my eyes. “You’ve killed five people in three hours. How many times do I need to tell you this? No one wants to hug a demon!” \n\n“But I’m just so happy to see you,” the demon said, scratching his blackened chest with a three inch claw. “We just want to be your friends.” \n\nScreams echoed from the alley behind my house. Gunfire rang out across the city, most of the buildings engulfed in flames. Black smoke billowed in the sky, obscuring the stars. “I get that, Snoopy, I really do. But come on, look around!” I gestured to the city. “This isn’t working. You have to go back to Hell!” \n\nA demon lumbered into the middle of the street, traffic swerving around him. He caught the back of a truck loaded with pumpkins. The front of the truck pitched up, pumpkins rolling into the demon and bursting into flame. The truck landed with a loud bang, and the driver emerged with a young girl in his arms. The demon uttered a cry of joy, lifting its arms. For some reason, its face reminded me of Barney, the Purple Dinosaur. The driver screamed in response and ran, the demon in pursuit. \n\n“God damn it,” I muttered, pressing my fingers to the bridge of my nose. “This has to stop.” \n\n“But I thought we were going somewhere fun. You said you wanted me to meet your boss.” \n\nI lowered my hand. “Right. After that, it has to stop.”\n", "A demon is a burned thing, wreathed in smoke with embers perpetually falling from its tattered wings. The night sky is filled with the light of angels' burning wings, but the demons down here with us seem to be made of little more than ash. There is a pathos to them; a sentiment completely alien to the stern, proud beings above. \n\nIt - and it was 'it', the demon had corrected me repeatedly when I used gendered pronouns - called itself Bel Kaleph Azad, an orphan of the eastern star, whatever that meant. It was an emissary of the Fallen Council, here to make peace with 'the Children' as both sides seemed to call us. I had asked it once, in a stupor, if it was a servant of Satan, and the demon said I should not speak ill of the dead. \n\nThe peace was not fruitful for either side. Where the demons came in friendship, the angels followed in wrath. The day an accord was signed at the UN opening diplomatic relations with Hell, the heavens had opened and poured out their scorn. \n\nOne third of the global population was annihilated by a merciless horde with blazing wings and skin like ice. The light of their souls was harsh and blinding, and among their hosts were strange choirs of living weapons and terrors from a fever dream. They were much more fearsome than the frail and dirty hosts of Hell, and much more cruel. It was no wonder they'd won the war.\n\nBel Kaleph Azad came to me some months later, in the smoking ruins of my church, wounded and looking for a dark place to die. I had taken refuge in the church cellar, more in desperation than in faith. The debris around me was proof enough that nothing built by a man was sacred to Heaven. Other people had long ago decided to spurn places they thought the angels might dwell. Many had thought that faith might save them, in the early days. I always was lucky.\n\nI still wore my collar then, and the demon had been fearful of me, but was quick to trust when it was clear I meant it no harm. That trust soon turned to friendship, of a kind I thought had faded from this desperate world. That friendship was a source of nourishment to it, and over long whispered conversations, whatever celestial wound had brought it creeping to me seemed to diminish. \n\nIt is beyond my wisdom to divine the age of angels and demons. As far as I know, the demon had existed since the beginning of time, and would have continued to its end, had it not chosen my brief life over its own. Whether the angel that smote him down came across us by chance or design, I do not know, but there can be only one outcome when an angel finds a demon. Yet Bel Kaleph Azad did not flee, nor hide, as it could much better than any mortal man. It did the kindest thing it could - it tried to kill me.\n\nAngels do not regard us much. We are an opportunity for sin and punishment, no more than a duty waiting to be performed. That terrible light which shone into my cellar would as likely have destroyed me as not, even without a trace of the demonic taint. But the rescue of a pious soul under assault from a demon is the closest they can come to benevolence, and the only way my friend knew my life could be spared. \n\nI didn't understand it at the time. As I opened my eyes and saw the result of a confusing instant of pain and darkness and blinding light, I very nearly threw away what it had made such a tremendous sacrifice to preserve. I saw that towering celestial inferno standing with the burning edge of its sword buried in the collapsing ash pile that had been my friend, and I cried out in grief. I crawled toward it and reached out my hand to touch it. \n\nThe angel did not hesitate. They are ever vigilant for our sin and weakness. The sword arced toward me, and in that instant I was grateful. I was happy to be removed from this ruined earth and maybe, just maybe reunited with my lost friend. As much as I was afraid, as I wanted to hate, I loved the angel for the swiftness of its mercy.\n\nAnd when that angel's blade touched my loving heart, it screamed and faded into nothing.\n\nAs I sat alone in the merciful darkness, some things Bel Kaleph Azad had told me began to make a kind of sense. The angels hate us, but not for our sins or our dalliance with demons. The angels hate us, and fear us, for our love. \n\nIt is a force they cannot understand, as creatures of cold power and hard duty. It is something the demons hoped to discover, coming to us meekly and in desperation after an epoch of languishing in exile, learning the lesson of their fall. It is why my friend forsook eternity to give an old man a scant few years more life. It is what the angels were willing to burn the world in order to keep from the denizens of Hell. \n\nAnd it is how we can defeat them.", "This started going... and going... and going. I just couldn't stop. I don't have time to write anymore today, so I'm just going to post what I have for the time being, but I'll post a followup later, if anyone cares.\n\n**The Torn Summer**\n\nGlover wasn’t particularly frightened on that day in July. More than a year had since passed and a calmer, more rational mood had befallen the country. That first year was an agonizing exercise in how much ignorant bullshit Glover could withstand. His best friend for the four years leading up to “The Torn Summer” had been a fellow by the name of Marco. It was a Wednesday in June when Marco C Reddy revealed to Glover his name was in fact a kind of an anagram. Camroc The Redoubtable he was called back home. Glover laughed at Marco for half an hour through their comforting glugs of Yuengling from frosted glass mugs. The two sat in a booth inside a bar, empty, save for the old timer behind the counter.\n\n“Camroc The Redoubtable, you say?”\n\n“It’s as stupid to me as it sounds to you, but yes, we have formalities where I’m from.”\n\n“Uh huh, and what was that place called again?”\n\n“The Trench.”\n\n“Camroc The Redoutbale coming straight out of The Trench. Hell, that’s far more intimidating than Ice Cube coming straight out of Compton. But the question remains, are you a crazy motherfucker?“ Glover chuckled as he spoke. \n\nMarco didn’t laugh along with him. \n\n“Ok, ok I can see you’re trying to be serious, so where is The Trench located, exactly?”\n\n“Nowhere near here. Not really even within the confines of the Universe. It’s kind of difficult to explain to someone whose consciousness is held within the limited perspective of the human brain. It’s where you go when you die, if you were not one of the special chosen few drafted for the pious military in the sky… or at least that’s what I call it.”\n\n“So, hell then. You come from hell.”\n\n“If you like.”\n\n“You’re a demon.”\n\n“I am.”\n\n“Is this some kind of… I mean are you playing with me in some strange way I don’t understand or have you actually gone batshit insane?” Glover said.\n\nMarco looked to his left from the booth. The old bartender behind the counter had his arms stretched up. Wine glasses hung from the ceiling on a rack and he wiped the dust from their rims with a dry rag. He wore a large white cowboy hat and whistled to himself.\n\n“He’s tired, wouldn’t you say, had about enough?” said Marco.\n\n“Um, I suppose.”\n\nMarco snapped his fingers and the bartender lowered his arms. He stood staring straight ahead towards the kitchen. A drop of blood trickled from his nose and ran down his red flannel button-up shirt. \n\n“Homma-sai. Homma-sai. Krah cah sala-bah. Sala-bah. Coheev konte.” The bartender spoke loudly, some gibberish Glover didn’t understand. \n\nThe bartender reached for the half-full bottle of Bacardi 151 and poured it over himself, the liquor pooled in the dips of his hat, ran over and covered his body. He pulled a box of matches from his pocket, struck one, and then spoke one final time. \n\n“For you, my beast. For you.”\n\nWith that, he dropped the lit match onto his hat and burned silently behind the bar, not screaming, not writhing in agony. After a moment his body collapsed and became a pile on the tile floor behind the bar. Marco hadn’t watched. He merely sat silently, drinking his beer, texting on his cell phone. Glover had sat mostly in shock, watching as the whole thing unfolded. He had tried a few times to move from his seat and stop the bartender, put him out, but the lower half of his body was completely immobilized. It felt as though he were fused to the chair, a sewn in human cushion.\n\n“Now, I know what you’re thinking.” Said Marco.\n\nGlover barely heard the words. He turned his gaze back to the demon sitting across from him. He still looked human, nonchalant. \n\n“You, you know what?”\n\n“I know what you’re thinking, or, well, I think I know what you’re thinking. I haven’t actually checked.” \n\n“Oh, ok, well then what am I thinking?”\n\n“You’re thinking that was a little harsh. I could have tried something else to prove my powers to you. Maybe made something float, or teleported us to another place, something like that.” \n\n“Yeah, no, that’s not at all what I was thinking, actually.”\n\n“Damnit. Ok, well, what was it then?”\n\n“I was thinking, wow, that’s the first time I’ve ever seen someone set themselves on fire. That was pretty horrifying. I’m not sure if I want to live anymore. I’m thinking of running away, of calling the police, of calling a psychiatrist, of shooting myself in the head. I’m thinking of a lot of things. Now, though, yes, I’m thinking also what you said.”\n\nMarco took a big gulp of his beer, and then began talking as he crossed the empty bar to refill his glass. \n\n“Well, you’re not crazy, and there’s no point in calling the police, I’d just disappear and they’d think you did it. I could even manipulate the video in here to show that being the exact case, but I have no real desire to do that. Rather, I like you a lot, you’re my friend. I’m actually not that bad of a guy, believe it or not. Evil, yes, but bad and evil are two different things. I can’t really help being evil. Evil is a force so great it can’t really even be explained, and I am spawned directly from it. I can’t change being evil any more than you can change being of Irish descent. But I don’t think being inherently evil really makes me that bad of a guy. I don’t do evil deeds unless they’re absolutely necessary, case in point, proving to you that I’m not insane or lying.” Marco stepped over the still smoldering pile of ashes behind the bar and walked over to the tap. He put his glass under the Yuengling handle and then paused. \n\n“Nope.” He said. Then he reached in the mini-freezer right beneath the tap and grabbed a brand new frosted mug. He nodded approvingly and then filled his glass, then continued on his explanation.\n\n“Anyway, to answer your question, or rather, the question I suggested you should be asking, I did what I did because: A. It couldn’t really be construed as trickery. Someone lights themselves on fire, that’s not really a trick, it’s just fucked up, but objectively provable and fairly permanent. B. My abilities can really only be used for evil, so, sorry, but I couldn’t just produce an adorable kitten out of thin air; a bloodthirsty, ravenous, rabid dog of hell, perhaps, but nothing cute and cuddly, nothing you’d want to see. C. Don’t worry, he didn’t feel anything, I saw to that. His soul will be reincarnated sometime within the next three years. He had no family. He was miserable. I picked this place for a reason.” Marco had made his way back to the booth and sat down.\n\n“Sorry, I would have gotten you one, but you’re still half full.” Marco said, taking another huge gulp of beer. \n\nThat night had served as a warning for Glover. Marco went on to explain the fabric keeping The Trench suspended far from the world of the living would be severed the following month, and so it was. The United States had declared it a national emergency. Demons and other dark creatures were coming out of a hole in the middle of the Arizona desert at an alarming rate, most of them just curious to explore a new place. “The Torn Summer” it had been called. Glover watched as people all across the country were cowering in fear. Church congregations were barring themselves inside their respective sacred buildings, mass suicides were organized, the world had generally worked itself up into a frenzy. The age old debate of whether or not the afterlife existed had been solved, and it had turned out, no one had really gotten it right, and everyone was kind of pissed. \n\nMarco and Glover spent most of that chaotic first year at Glovers apartment, watching the news and laughing at the entire situation. The situation had calmed, though, as demons were more and more showing their value to the world.\n", "\"What's this do?\" the Hellspawn asked fiddling with my radio, his horns protruding from my Geo as it listed heavily to the right. Damn near riding on the rims. His cigar smoke made the air in the vehicle toxic to breath.\r\rI sighed deeply, rubbing my forehead at the stop light. \"Don't touch my Goddamned radio,\" his face drooped has he began to fiddle with his claws. He sat silently for a moment staring out the window, picking his nose.\r\r\"Where we going?\" the red behemoth asked again, as he now began to drum his hands on the dashboard.\r\r\"I'm going to work,\" I sighed again, beginning to roll the car forward. \"I told you this before you insisted on coming, I told you couldn't come,\" I said as my voice began to rise this time.\r\r\"Oh, so we can hangout?\"\r\r\"No for the hundredth time.\" Again, disappointment ran across his face as his shoulders dropped. \"Well what ya wanna do when your off?\" \r\r\"*Im* going to my girlfriends, I dont know what you're doing, stop playing with the windows!\" \r\r\"What if I'm really quiet? I'll sit in the corner and keep to myself, I promise this time,\" the hooved beast said in the most convincing voice he could muster. \r\r\"I said no, look I'm at work, I'm going now,\" I said. Hoping he would receive the hint to leave my car.\r\r\"That's ok, I'll wait here!\" he said with a smile, and began to play with his phone. I sighed and shut the door as I stumbled to my workplace. \r\r\r\r\r\r\rYay my highest rated writing prompt. " ]

[ 2, 2, 2, 4, 6, 7, 19, 40 ]

[ "1411260771", "1411271833", "1411278724", "1411237994", "1411246768", "1411251978", "1411246680", "1411239217" ]

[ "I stared at the girl in front of me. We both looked at each other in shock. She looked just like me, but... sickly. \n\n\"You... you look just like me. Who are you?\" I begin to ask. The girl's face lights up.\n\n\"I've been looking everywhere for you! It's so good to see you!\" She pulled me into a weak hug, which I tried to shrug out of.\n\n\"I'm sorry, who are you, again?\" I asked. The girl's face became extremely serious, which made her thin skin become even more noticeable. \n\n\"Mom and dad never told you? I'm... your twin! My name is Vivian! And you're Veronica! We were separated at birth because mom and dad could't afford to raise us both, so I ended up in an orphanage. Life hasn't been easy, but seeing you, it just makes everything better.\" her weak smile was filled with sincerity. I was shocked that I could've had a sister, nevertheless a twin! Mom and dad did struggle for money when I was growing up, so it kind of made sense, but something wasn't right. They would've told me, wouldn't they? \n\n\"I'm sorry, this is just... a bit shocking. How about we just exchange numbers and ease into this? Maybe go and meet up every know and then. I really want to talk to my parents...\" I slowly started to back up, but the sickly girl grabbed my arm with an alarming amount of strength. \n\n\"I... don't have a phone. Or any money. Or much time left. Why don't we go to your house and I can say hi to mom and dad? They're the ones that contacted me and told me about you! I've been looking everywhere for you!\" She smiled again, this time showing her teeth which had become almost yellow. \n\n\"How about we-\"\n\n\"-Sis, how could you do this to me?\" the girl began to cry, \"After all the time i've spent looking for you. Day in and day out, searching, and now you won't even help me?\". Tears began to stream down her face. \n\n\"No no no. Look, I'm sorry. My car is right over here, so let's just... get going, shall we?\" I said hesitantly. The girl sniffed and nodded slightly. We walked back to my car, and climbed inside. The street lights started to flick on along the road as dusk settled in. I hated driving at dusk, as it was kind of hard to see and headlights didn't help much. The ride back to my house was extremely quiet and awkward. I mentally punched myself in the face during the ride, regretting leaving the coffee shop early. The girl began to slightly chuckle to herself.\n\n\"Uh... is everything okay? We're almost home. We live in the kind of rural part of town-\" I was cut off by her scream as she reached across the console to grab the steering wheel, veering the car off the road and straight into a small ditch. Time slowed down as the air bags deployed, knocking me unconscious. \n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\n\nEverything was fuzzy as I woke up in what looked like the forest by my house. I tried lifting my head up, but my temple began to pulsate, giving me a terrible headache. \n\n\"Vi.... Vivian...\" I weakly called out. I looked as far right as I could, which increased my headache, but I saw nothing. The sky had a light blue tinge to it, yet the visibility was still extremely low. I decided I would have to get up and get help, so I slowly rolled onto my right side.\n\n\"Oh no sis, don't get up. You'll only make things worse\". I looked up and saw the girl, standing over me with a horrible smile. I continued my attempt to get up, but the girl kicked me, causing my head to buzz with such an intensity that I almost passed out. The girl lowered herself next to me, and began to giggle like a five year old. Another voice rang out,\n\n\"I'm here. Now let's get out of here before the cops show up. I can hear them coming down the road. \" The voice was rough, and terrifying. \n\n\"Pick her up. I'll explain to her what's going on the way to the car\". I weakly opened my eyes to see a large man step toward me and scoop me up. My head buzzed and dots began to form at the top of my vision.\n\n\"S...stop\" I weakly cried. Terror pumped through my veins as we all headed deeper into the woods.\n\n\"Don't worry sis, it'll all be over soon. Once I knew you were out there, I looked everywhere for you. I'm so far low on the transplant list, I thought I'd never get the organs I needed. Then I met Butch here, a black market surgeon, who was willing to perform a surgery if I found an organ donor. And so I found a donor. Right here. I'm so happy my sister is willing to give her life so I can live on. Thank you so much sis.\" The girl continued to giggle. Her giggles were the last thing I ever heard.", "\"Woah, are you me?\" I asked, feeling more stupid than confused as the words came out.\n\n\"I think so,\" he said. He seemed as perplexed as me, understandably.\n\n\"Weird,\" I said.\n\n\"Yeah,\" he said.\n\nI pulled out my phone and scrolled through the apps.\n\n\"Add me on snapchat?\" I asked. It seemed like a reasonable request, given the situation.\n\n\"Uh, sure,\" he answered. \"My name's 'jakemcawful', all one word.\"\n\nMy fingers froze in place. I gave a weak laugh, and curled my left hand into a trembling fist.\n\n\"That's funny,\" I said. \"My snapchat name is 'jakemcawesome', all one word.\"\n\nAnd that's how I met my evil twin.", "\"What the fuck?\"\n\n\"What the fuck?\"\n\n\"Are you me?\"\n\n\"Yeah... I am.\"\n\n\"How is that possible?\"\n\n\"I-I dunno.\"\n\n\"Is this like, a Doctor Who episode or something?\"\n\n\"I dunno, I never watched that show.\"\n\n*me and clone point fingers at each other* \"ayyyyy\"\n\n\"So you know what this means, right?\"\n\n\"We can finally do those TF2 combos you see the good players doing?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\nThe end", "Bump. I crashed into somebody, I kept my head low, whispering an apology, and she did the same. I was nudged by my sister, and she whispered to to me that she looked just like me, even sounded like me!\n\n\"Huh, what?\" We both turn to glance at each other. It was awkward greeting me, but neither of us have the social experience.\n\n\"Hi me, lost your job too?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I couldn't handle it.\"\n\n\"What are you going to do now?\"\n\n\"I don't know, I feel so lost.\"\n\n\"Me too.\"\n\nWe shook hands, but then it dawned to me.\n\n\"Are you with my boyfriend?\"\n\n\"Yes, he adorable isn't he?\"\n\nFinally something we agree on- Wait. The direction she was walking was from... My house.\n\n\"Did you fuck, my boyfriend?\"\n\n\"H- He is my boyfriend after all-\"\n\nWe both knew what was going to happen. Let the cat fight commence!\nMy sister tried to get us to back off, but we both cast her aside.\n\nWe may be shut ins, but we have tempers that refuse to die. We pulled at eachothers hair, and ripped at eachothers identical clothes.\n\nJust then, our boyfriend came out to the poach and saw what was going on.\n\n\"Relax baby! I don't mind that there is two of you!\"\n\nWe glanced at eachother and let go. Maybe this will not be so bad after all.\n\n\"I'll give him a back rub.\"\n\n\"I'll make dinner.\"", "\"Excuse me.\"\n\nTwo words never hit me so hard. I'd responded before I could finish processing. Before we turned around, I knew we'd both stopped.\n\nThere he was.\n\nMe.\n\n\"What... What's going on?\"\n\n\"I...nothin?\"\n\n\"No, I meant...Never mind. This is pretty neat, huh? We're thinking the same thing? You look just like me.\"\n\n\"Bro, YOU look just like ME.\"\n\n\"Fine, fine. I mean, what do we do, right? This is so exciting!\"\n\n\"I guess...keyswap?\"\n\n\"Oh, bro. Keyswap. Keyswap so fuckin' hard.\"\n\nHis keys felt light in my hand. He drove a Lexus. I hope my Hyundai handled okay for him. His GPS took me to his house. It sat on top of a hill overlooking the city. I'd never been to this part of town before. Never had the money.\n\nHis wife was waiting in the kitchen. The food smelled delicious. It tasted even better. I could tell she wasn't used to being listened to. It's too bad I hardly heard a word. I just couldn't stop staring; she was gorgeous. Great in bed, too.\n\nWe met again the next day. Same spot. Same shoulder bump.\n\n\"Trade back?\"\n\n\"Meh. Could go either way.\"\n\nSo we did.", "Tuesdays are always shitty, divisional meeting presentation first thing, weekly review with my boss straight after and taco day at the work canteen. I fucking hate work tacos as much as I love good tacos. This particular Tuesday was proving to be even more shitty than usual as I was running late and as I stepped off the bus, I realised that I was wearing odd shoes. Standing in front of all my colleagues and managers I was now going to be in one brown and one black shoe. Fuuuuuck. \n\nI hurried down the street, checking my phone just in case some miracle had happened and the meeting had been cancelled. I *hate* people who walk down the street staring at their phone and so as soon as I bumped the guy I went into full apology mode. \n\n\"I am so sorry, I wasn't looking and I...\" I trailed off. He was older and kinda tired looking but there was no mistaking that I was looking at myself. It took him a second longer than me, but it registered on his face and he went from surprise to confusion and swiftly to panic. He held up a finger as if he was going to say something and then turned and fled. \n\nOf all the reactions I could have expected, this was not among them and so it took a few seconds to work out what had happened and then a second more to decide what to do, so by the time I started after him he was a good 30 metres ahead of me and went skidding round a corner. \n\nI sprinted as fast as I could, following him round the corner and then across a road and down onto the cycle path next to the canal. It was typical of me to try this, for some reason I had always thought that in an emergency I would miraculously turn into some sort of superhuman runner, necessity providing me with better lungs and legs. As had been proven at Kaitlyn Scott's sweet sixteen, this was not true. \n\nHe was definitely older than me and his fitness was even worse than mine, just a minute later he finally had to stop running and I was right behind him by then. I grabbed his collar to keep him from going anywhere, but for several minutes we stood there silently, gasping for breath, spots swimming in my eyes and my breakfast trying to make an unexpected reappearance. \n\nFinally I caught my breath and pushed him back against the brick wall, holding him firmly to stop him trying to escape. \"What the fuck is going on, you're me aren't you?\" \n\nHe was still out of breath but nodded and held up a finger to ask for a moment. He clearly was in no shape to run, so I let him go and he doubled over for a moment to recover. \n\nHe was still puffing slightly as he started to talk \"Okay, running was not smart, I've just always thought that in an emergency...\" \n\nI interrupted \"Yeah I *know*, in an emergency we'd run like the wind and be uncatchable.\" \n\nHe looked me up and down \"To be fair you were pretty fucking fast back there.\" \n\nA sliver of pride shot through me \"Yes, thank you, but you're avoiding the question, why are you here, what is going on? When the fuck is time travel invented?\" \n\nHe shifted uncomfortably \"Those are all *really* against the rules to answer.\" He leaned in closer and his voice dropped to a whisper. \"Even talking to you could get me, us, in *big* trouble.\" \n\n\"Bit fucking late for that right? And it's not like you don't know where I work; not exactly hiding now, were you?\" I shoved him a little to show dominance. He's casualness was irritating. \"Answer the fucking questions.\" \n\n\"Yeah, no.\" I waited but he didn't go on. \n\n\"So, let me get this straight.\" I rubbed my brow, trying to get my head straight. \"I meet my future self.\" He nodded. \"He runs away.\" He nodded. \"I catch him and he refuses to answer any questions.\" He nodded. \"So what the fuck am I supposed to do now?\" \n\n\"Let me go?\" His voice was hopeful. \n\n\"This was a bad enough day already\" I quietly muttered to myself. \n\n\"Wait, is it a Tuesday?\" For the first time his voice contained something other than evasiveness - pity. \n\n\"Yes it's a fucking Tuesday.\" Like this asshole couldn't have worked it out. \n\n\"Dude, I am so sorry to make this a worse day for you.\" He looked down and winced. \"Oooh, this isn't a good day today. I wish I could help somehow but, you know, I really can't change anything.\" \n\nI looked more closely at him. \"Take your fucking shoes off.\" \n", "\"Fuck off, ugly,\" we both sneer at each other, we both hurry on our separate ways, never to see the other. Seriously, you have to be an asshole or just plain blind to bump shoulders with a sunglassesed man whacking away at the ground with his cane." ]

[ 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 4, 18 ]

[ "1411258626", "1411243941", "1411246619", "1411252734", "1411253528", "1411246201", "1411255142" ]

[ "One archaeologist slowly opens up the box just a crack, only to reveal the most unexpected. He.....got......Rick Rolled. Since the box was unable to hold an equipped system with electricity to play \"Never gonna give you up,\" it just ends up being Rick Astley's decapitated head. After the box was uncovered, Rick opened his mouth, and wasted no time serenading the archaeologists with his classic number one hit. They burst into laughter talking about how they haven't been Rick Rolled in years! After the session was finished, the group had a little conversation with Rick, talking about the music industry and many other drugs. Then it was time for Rick to be placed into his box again, for if kept out too long, his luscious ginger skin would peel like an over-ripened dry banana. Shortly after, the archaeologists disbanded and went home.", "\"To put it simply, the box says it contains the world's end.\" \n\nThe researchers and their intern fell silent, looking at the tiny sealed box in the translator's hand with renewed interest. \"Who wants to be cursed first?\" he joked, putting the box down on his desk with a smile. \n\n\"Surely it's just a superstitious bluff from an ancient culture, Dr. Tesley?\" the student intern asked, never taking her eyes off the box. \n\n\"Actually, it's not very old at all. That makes it all the more curious,\" the head of the expedition replied, stepping forward to pick up the box and examining it under the light of the desk lamp. \"We should have it x-rayed before opening it.\"\n\nA groan went around the room. \"Come on, Jan. We're all here now. We finally find something good and you want to send it away before we get first crack at it?\"\n\nDr. Tesley hesitated, turning the box over in her hands and examining the characters around the side. Dreams of a big discovery played at the edges of her decision, weakening her resolve. Besides, what person had ever seen a \"Do not open\" sign and obeyed? \n\n\"Okay, let's take a quick peak,\" she said, smiling back as everyone whooped with excitement. Taking a seat beside the translator, she got to work breaking the seal. After a few minutes a small pop broke the silence and everyone scrunched closer to get a better look.\n\n\"What is it? What's in there?\"\n\nShe pried off the lid and looked inside. Poking a gloved finger into the corners to be sure, she finally said, \"It's empty.\"\n\n\"And here I thought we'd be dead by morning,\" the translator chuckled, getting up from his chair and stretching. \n\nShe was wrong. \n\nHe was right. \n\nDr. Tesley coughed. " ]

[ 2, 2 ]

[ "1411287752", "1411288774" ]

[ "\"Bethany, I swear to god... I mean, never mind. The point is that I love you. The first thing I noticed about you was your heart. It was full of hatred and grief. I just-\"\n\n\"It doesn't matter now, Charlie. Just go away! You changed me. I was in a dark place when we met, but you helped me get better. Go find someone else... someone who's just as worthless as I was before we met!\"\n\n\"But all I wanted to say was that you changed me. I was also in a dark place. I had been kicked to the curb by my father, a goes who was supposed to love me no matter what. All I wanted was to be mortal. All I wanted was for it all to just stop, but when I met you, I saw someone who is going to hell. I saw someone who needed a guardian angel to change her life.\"\n\n\"Great, so I needed am angel and got a fallen one, one of the evil, deceitful ex-angels. Thanks, but I want to go back to the drinking.\"\n\nHe tried to embrace her, but she turned and left. Knowing that she would never listen on purpose, he waited to go back to the apartment until four in the morning, when she would be fast asleep. He flew through the open window and found her asleep in bed. He whispered softly \"I'm sorry, Beth. When I changed your life, you changed mine. All I needed was to see the positive impact I could have to make me quit my evil ways.\" She smiled a little and rolled over. He laid down next to her and said \"do you want to be immortal with me?\" This time, she opened her eyes and turned toward him, whispering \"If it's not too much trouble.\"", "\"What just happened...My life had changed within the past hour.\" Drew closed his eyes and rewound the day to when it happened. \"Two hours ago..I was picking you up, you said 10 minutes and took 30. One and a half hours ago..we went to our favorite spot in downtown for some ramen. You took your time sipping the steaming bowl, sip after sip like tea, while I watch you. Silent drive home. You looking at the tall city buildings illuminating your soft pale skin. How.. How did we end up here like this?\" \n\n\"I..I don't know what to say anymore.. I told you everything and now we don't have time. He's coming for me.\" Said the woman as she consoles her boyfriend's knees while she's crouched down trying to look at his face. His face was covered by his hands and his elbows fused with his thighs. She rocks them back and forth trying to get something out of him. He pulls his hands down enough where his eyes meets this beautiful woman. Her hair is all over her face, pasted on by her tears. \n\n\"Drewboo, please let's just go. Anywhere but here, I can't stay here.\" She starts to sound agitated and starts to feel like moving him is useless. She bites her lower left lip and stands up. \n\n\"I have to go now Drewboo, I told you the truth.. And you still don't believe me. This says something about our relationship and future.\"\n\n\"FUTURE, Denise?!\" She was pushed aback by his sudden reaction. \"You're the one that hid this..this whole --I don't even know what to call this and now you expect me to leave everything to run away from God of all people. GOD! Yea, the one that everyone prays to, the one that created this world, or whatever the church goers believe.\" \n\n\"See, you don't believe in him, why are you being so stubborn? Everyone exists. Buddha, God, Zeus..everyone. You're just a mortal, you don't know these people like we do. They're like us, bad gods do good things and good gods do bad things.\"\n\nDrew made an angry and confusing face and questioned \"But you're the bad guy, you followed Lucifer. Lucifer! You know I'm fucking scared of The exorcist, why would you follow him. Oh and the icing on the cake, you're his right hand demon. Probably his sex toy, how was he huh? I bet he's crazy in bed huh, demonic sex how's that like? I don't even know you, shit, I'm fucking scared of what you did to me, did you take my soul--you..you succubus!\"\n\n\"Is that what you think of me?\" Her voice trembled, and her head down. Her silky black hair shined in their bedroom light. The lights began to shine brighter and brighter until sparks flew out and bursted. A slick bearded man in a suit appeared behind her, grabbed her neck and pinned her down to her knees. Her head still in the motionless position. \n\n\"Thanks son, I've been looking for her. See Denise? I listen to my children\" The suited man petted her hair then combed her long hair with his fingers. He laughed and mocked Drew's prayer \"Oh god what do I do, she's a demon, what do I do? Yes I heard it all, that's how I found you so easily. You know how many rooms there are in this forsaken building? You know how many heathens live here, it's like a cluster fuck of shit.\"\n\nDrew, as confused as he was from the start finally mustered enough courage to talk. \"A..are you--\"\n\n\"God, yes.\" Stating in a monotone voice while looking around Drew's bedroom. \"This is a nice place, nothing like Heaven but eh, the economy right? He snickered.\n\n\"Any last words to your demon girlfriend?\"\n\nDrew looked at this woman dressed in his favorite red dress, wearing red nail polish, all the while not being able to see her face, defenseless and unable to move, thinks for a bit. \n\n\"You played me..what was your plan with me? With my soul? Do I still have it?!\" \n\n\"...\" The woman was silent.\n\nThe suited man stopped playing with her hair, grabbed her head up with a full fist, and showed Drew her face. \n\nHis heart dropped. The girls had a face of defeat. Her eyes swollen with tears, her lips closed so hard that they wouldn't stop trembling. She couldn't talk, every breath she took, her body twitched, every exhale harder than the next. She pulled up her chin, took a gulp,of what may be her last breath still shaking, and finally said \"I'll always love you drewb--\"\n\nThe lights flickered and Drew was back on the edge of his bed. Hands covering his face. Elbows fused to his thighs in the empty room.\n\n\n", "She stood there covering herself with her hands. Although we have been together many times, this is the first where she was embarrassed of her body. Her skin was cracked, scarred, and brittle. I thought she was going to turn to dusk in any minute. She hangs her head in shame, her eyes, dark as the ocean, not meeting mine. I take it all in. Her tattered wings, the signs that she was once graceful. All of which is in ruin now. After a moment she speaks. Not with her voice, but one that is ancient, and tortured. \n\n\"This is why I can't marry you, Eric.\" When she said my name, my heart fluttered. I still have no words for her though. Without looking she continues, \"It's not just the immortal part about watching you die, but your soul as well. If we were to be bound though marriage, you will go to hell. All I could do is watch you be tortured for eternity. I just can't let that happen. I love you. After a millennium of existence I love you. Not one person has captured my heart as much as you. Please understand that. Because of that love, I cannot marry you.\"\nI am still on my knee, Ring in hand. After a pause, I reply,\n\n\"Lisa, I too have scoured the world for love. I have crossed oceans,\" My skin begins to give way. I begin to feel pain for the first time. \"I have rode with Mongolian hordes,\" My skin cracks, and my skin begins to lose its tone, Turning into a stony cracked surface. \" and I have never met someone as wonderful, and genuine as you. I mean that after a millennium of searching.\" My eyes, once a brilliant light shade of blue begin to turn dark. My wings, now fully emerged, begin to burn. The feathers falling in ash to the apartment floor. \"If it is a crime against God to have true love, then I hereby abandon and betray this God. I have now found someone I love more than He. Lisa, will you take my hand in marriage, and suffer in torment for eternity together?\" I feel blood seeping from the cuts. I can feel His eyes on me. Lisa is horrified. I begin to shake, barely holding up my weight among the pain. Is this what it felt like then too? And I fall to the ground, Lisa swept me up at an unholy speed. Together we sit in silence. After a moment, Lisa picks up the ring and puts in on her finger. ", "I'd met Apollo at a mutual friend's party several years ago. He was handsome and charming and way out of my league, but while we were drinking and talking and I asked him if Apollo was actually his name. He grinned and told me his dad was a Greek buff with a sense of humor. He was neither tall nor short, with platinum blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. His face was well-defined and gorgeous. I could tell that he was perfectly toned in his tight shirt and jeans. An apollo indeed.\n\nWe spent the rest of the night talking, and I was instantly enamored. He was perfection embodied. His voice made my toes curl when he spoke, and when he turned his smouldering eyes on me I felt helpless. The way he drew me to him was almost otherworldly. Dare I say, he was divine. We danced together that night and with his arms around me I felt fire in my body.\n\n\"Can I... see you again?\" I asked as the party drew to a close. A grin spread across his face and he handed me a card with his number on it.\n\n\"I'd like that,\" he responded. Dating him was a whirlwind of romance. The first time we kissed my body was on fire with need. I didn't know a kiss could do that. He knew every trick in the book and on occasion I couldn't help but think he was playing me. But whenever the thought crossed my mind, he'd sweep me off my feet again with a kiss or a gift or a romantic date.\n\nThe first time I said \"I love you,\" we were curled up on the couch together, eating take out and watching tv on my couch. I couldn't help it, it slipped out of my mouth, but I didn't regret it for an instant. He was silent for a long moment, and I felt my heart drop a little. My mind instantly went to all my negatives - how could I have possibly snagged my own Apollo? I wasn't particularly attractive or talented or interesting. He put his food down, cupped my face in his hand, and kissed me, slow and sensual. I melted into his touch as I always did.\n\nHe leaned in so his lips were right by my ear and whispered, \"I think I love you too.\" I pushed him against the couch, kissing every inch of skin I had access to, my hands looking to roam his body. He responded in kind, our kisses furious with want. I began unbuttoning his shirt then pushed it off him, revealing a myriad of silvered scars. I pulled away and traced them lightly with my fingertips. He grabbed my wrists.\n\n\"Where did these come from?\" I asked. He sighed, mood broken.\n\n\"I need to tell you something.\" I leaned back and my hands slid from his grip. My heart sank again and I waited apprehensively for him to tell me he was leaving, or I was an other woman, or he had some sort of incurable STI.\n\n\"My name isn't really Apollo.\" He shifted and his eyes met mine. \"It's short for Apollyon.\"\n\n\"A nickname,\" I said, breathing a sigh of relief, wondering why he made it sound so grave. A surprised laugh escaped his lips.\n\n\"I can't say I'm surprised you don't recognize the name I took for myself here,\" he laughed, but quickly sobered. \"Apollyon is still Greek, but it means destruction. My name is Lucifer, the morning star, the angel of light. My scars are from the wars in Elysion.\" I laughed, thinking it a joke.\n\n\"Then I will become a satanist and worship you, for you are the only deity I need,\" I grinned wickedly at him.\n\n\"Oh what delightful blasphemy,\" he laughed as I moved back in to kiss the delicious skin at his throat.\n\n\"Should I be worried you'll trick me, oh father of lies?\" I said, voice low as my lips pressed against his skin.\n\n\"I was cast out of Heaven by God for rebelling,\" he said. \"With free will at my fingertips, and you in front of me, I gain nothing more by lying.\" He lightly pushed me away from him so he could meet my eyes again. \"That's why I never take you to my place. I don't think the fiery pits of hell make for a good date night.\" He laughed. I was still skeptical. \"I'll show you.\" He stood, and wearing nothing but pants he looked glorious. But then great white wings sprouted from his back and all I could do was sit there with my mouth agape.\n\n\"I wouldn't lie to you,\" he said, folding his wings behind him.\n\n\"Hail Satan,\" I finally muttered, startling a laugh out of both of us. He knelt in front of me, his wings moving to enclose us in our own little world. I reached out and touched them, my fingers brushing the downy feathers there. He waited.\n\nI pulled him in for a kiss. What else could I do? I was agnostic before, and now that I had my proof, the side I wanted to choose was already there in front of me for the taking.", "I looked at her in disbelief.\n\n\"Really?\" I finally said, \"You're a angel?\"\n\nAbby nodded, her red hair bouncing slightly. \"You don't seem that surprised.\"\n\n\"Why should I be?\" I shrugged. \"I always knew you were an angel for dating me.\" \n\nNormally, my quip would have brought a chuckle or smile to her face. Not today. \n\n\"Please, I need you to be serious,\" she said, reaching out to grab my hand, \"I love you, and... I'm scared about what's going to happen because of that.\"\n\nThat drew me up short. In the six months that we had been dating, Abby had never said that before. I always knew that she cared about me, she had never been shy about showing me that she did, but the L word? No, she had never used it. \n\nNow she stood in front of me, holding my hands, with a set expression on her face. It was not an expression I had ever seen before, and I realized what it was: genuine fear. I had seen this women jump out of an airplane for our first date, and all she had done was grin as fell backward out the door. She's feed lions by hand at a zoo, swum with sharks, faced down everything with nothing more than that same smile that I had come to love. \n\nNow she was telling me that she was an actual angel. And was frightened about admitting it. \n\nSeveral questions ran through my mind, as I started to actually process this information, so many I didn't know what to ask first. Thankfully, my mouth decided for me.\n\n\"If you're an angel, why aren't you in heaven?\"\n\nHere she winced slightly before drawing in a deep breath.\n\n\"I'm not from heaven.\"\n\nFor another moment, I just stared at her before my brain held up a card. \n\n\"Oh. Ohhh. Oh,\" was all I said. Brilliant, huh? Again, my mouth was way ahead of anything else.\n\n\"Then, what are you doing here?\"\n\nShe gripped my hands a little tighter and said, \"Every so often, we are... I guess released is the best word, but that's not quite right either. The point is, we are allowed to come to Earth and live human lives. It's sort of like an exchange program.\"\n\n\"Wait, so when does that mean you have to go back?\" I asked quickly. The thought that she might have to up and leave suddenly popped up, and I was suddenly terrified. I didn't want her to go. \n\nShe smiled softly, like she read my mind. She knew me well enough that she might as well have. \"I still have plenty of time. It might be temporary by our standards, but it still lasts a full lifetime. As long as I keep eating my leafy greens and lay off the white cake, I should be good. \n\n\"Oh, that's good,\" I said. Those words utterly failed to convey my relief that I wouldn't lose her so soon. Then, another thought came up. \"Hey, does this mean I have to start watching my back?\"\n\nShe raised an eyebrow at me. \"I mean, are a team of angel supercommando's going to kick down my door in the middle of the night and kidnap me, or anything like that?\"\n\nShe smiled. \"Not if I have anything to say about it.\" She leaned in and kissed me. After pulling back, the smile faded from her face. \"I, um, was wondering if, maybe, I could,...show you?\"\n\nI looked at her blankly. \n\n\"You know, what I really look like?\" I could see that same scared expression creep back onto her face. At that moment, I knew that there would only be one answer I could give, or even want to give.\n\nI nodded once. \n\nAbby to a deep breath and... I guess *shift* is the only word that really works. Nothing changed. But everything changed.\n\nHer eyes were still the same bottle green, her nose that dainty, delicate thing, her hair still that fiery red that had first attracted me to her. The growth of an enormous pair of raven wings were certainly different, but for some reason it didn't feel like the first time I had seen them. In my head I wondered if it was just the first time I had actually *looked* at them.\n\nThe rest of her body didn't change either. It was still the attractive, athletic body that had been the second thing that had drawn me to her (I'm still just a guy after all).\n\nBut what changed the most was the skin around her mouth. Everywhere else I looked, it was the same fair complexion, but around her mouth... It looked like someone had tried to brush her teeth with a blow torch. \n\nHer lips were cracked and blackened, pulled back from her teeth into an almost smile that would have had me shitting my pants if I didn't know her. The same was true for the skin on her chin and cheeks. Under some of the cracks, a distant red light shone through, like looking at a fire reflected around a corner in a dark cave. \n\nIt was about that moment when I noticed her hands felt different. Frowning, I looked down at them. I blinked and looked again. Just like her face, the skin was badly burned with that same light through the cracks. On her right hand, her pinkie and ring finger had been fused together, forming a single malformed digit. \n\nI looked up, straight into her eyes. They were still filled filled with that same fear. This time, I was the one that leaned in and kissed first. When I pulled back, I saw tears forming at the corner of her eyes. I pretended not to see them. Regardless of how vulnerable she was now, she'd still kick my ass if I called attention to them. Made that mistake when we watched Old Yeller together once. Once.\n\n\"What happened,\" was all I asked instead. \n\nShe blinked, forcing the tears back down. \"It was right after the war, and Dad,\"\n\n\"Wait,\" I interrupted, \"I thought you said your parents died in... Oh, right, I guess they weren't really your parents. Were they?\" I could only imagine what the expression on my face looked like as I took a swim through the Sea of Awkward.\n\nAbby just snorted, a smile teasing at her lips. She had shifted back to her \"human\" appearance. \"No, that was just a story I told you. No, Dad, well he's not my actual father, but given what he did, I don't think I'd ever feel comfortable calling him anything else. Anyway, it was just after Dad and the rest of us had lost the war. We all ended up in Hell, and Dad was, well...\"\n\n\"What a minute,\" I said, \"Is Dad Lucifer?!?\" Sometimes I amaze myself with how quick I can be on the uptake.\n\nAbby smirked and shook her head. \"And here I thought one of the reasons I fell for you was because of your brain. Yes, my dad is Lucifer. Not by birth, more like... adoption, I guess. Anyway,\" she shot me a look that showed how much she'd tolerate another interruption, \"he was really depressed. Like, extremely. Here, he'd gone and fought for all of us, and then most of us just go off and join the other side. And you, I mean, humans, had just gotten punished for the fact that you had free will. Dad, I think, loved you even more than he loved us. The way he tells it, you were just so *curious* and he just kept on encouraging it. He was so happy for you whenever you made one of those first steps. You should have seen him when you discovered fire.\" She stopped to smile again. \"You'd have thought that he was a parent bragging about their child's acceptance into Harvard.\"\n\nThe smile faded from her face. \"But then, after the war... He just fell apart. For a while, he tried to keep it up for the rest of us, but then one day... he just wandered off.\" She shivered. \"There is a place that's... beyond is the only word that works, Hell. He just headed for it one day and none of us could stop him. It's a cold place, empty, with nothing that could sustain even an angel. When he left, none of us knew what to do at first. Then we came up with an idea. That's how this happened.\" She held up her hands. \"We ate from the Fire of Hell.\" She flinched at the memory.\n\n\"It was the only thing that could keep us going out in the cold. When we found him, he was half dead. I was one of the those that carried some of the Fire with us, and was able to use it to bring him back, and.. You know what, why don't I let him tell you the story?\"\n\n\"Huh?\" I asked, bewildered.\n\nShe chuckled at me. \"Don't you think it's time you actually met my parents?\"\n\nI looked off in the distance, trying to wrap my head around this. \"I... I guess so.\"\n\nHer smile got wider. \"Good.\" She stood up. \"I'll start packing.\"\n\n", "I took a long pull of my beer and smirked. \"A fallen Angel, Avi? I'm not that drunk yet.\" He sat across the table from me, his caramel eyes watching me with far too much intensity for comfort, and I took an extra swallow of the IPA. \n\n\"What if it were true, Rachel?\" I couldn't quite read his expression, but there was no mirth in it. I put my beer back down on the table. I folded my arms, and leaned across towards him.\n\n\"What if what if you were a demon, Avi?\" I tried not to make my laugh come out as too mocking, in the face of his serious attitude. It didn't work. I barked out a sharp cackle. \"Well then I imagine I'd be fucked, wouldn't I? Damned to hell?\" \n\nHe smiled, that same smile that always made me feel warm and sparkly and special, and I squirmed on my stool. His charming grin turned a little sad, and when he spoke again, his eyes turned slightly sad.\n\n\"What do you think hell is, Rach?\" He seemed to see through me, to somewhere dark and cold. I felt my eyebrows furrow.\n\n\"What is this, Avi?\" My voice sounded strange to my own ears. This wasn't normal. Avi was my best friend, the one person I never needed to lie to. He was a skeptic, and a scholar. He questioned everything, everyone, every motive. He didn't believe in gods or ghosts or woo. He didn't believe in demons. This was not Avi. He had dropped his gaze to the table, and was sliding his own beer across the slick surface, dragging wet rings of condensation into spirals.\n\n\"I'm tired, Rachel.\" He told the condensation. \"I'm tired of lying. I've lied for so many centuries, to so many people. I've lied because it's just fucking easier. I don't want to take the easy road with you. I want to give you everything I have, and that means giving you the truth.\" He lifted his eyes back to me, and in them, this time, I saw the pleading. And the fear. \"Will you trust me, just for tonight? Will you let me tell you the truth?\" My body felt far away and numb, but my head was nodding somewhere in that numbness. My fingers tightened on the cold, sweaty glass of my beer bottle. My lips were moving.\n\n\"For now.\" My voice was too cold, and far too empty, but the relief that suffused his features filled me with a sort of cinnamon, tingling calm that made me decide whatever price I was about to pay was worth it. He reached one of his long-fingered hands to take my own, a shy smile that was utterly alien on his confident features twitching into place. \n\n\"Thank you for that.\" He whispered as his fingers tightened around mine. His touch was a thrill of molten heat, too warm, too close, too electric. The same as it always was. This was what it felt like to have your very soul caressed. I felt my eyelids flutter briefly at the sensation, and when I opened them...something had gone wrong. \n\nI stood, with the fingers of one hand twisted around the fingers of my lover, and half a cold beer dangling from two fingers of the other hand, in...Hell. My skin had gone cold. The terrible, bitter cold of a day so frigid that breath never even became vapor before freezing grabbed my lungs. Fire lit just beneath my skin. My limbs became an electric, twitching field of flame. The heat and the cold went to war in the space between my skin and the layers of flesh beneath. I didn't quite scream at that. Grey stretched beyond us for unbroken eternity in all directions. The sky was a wall of bitter, bleak storm clouds the color of slate that only seemed to move when you weren't looking at them. The ground, from our feet to the horizon was an endless, stark plain of tossed black gravel and bleached, broken bones. There was nothing else. No funny rock shaped like a chimney, no lighter patch of sky or earth. Nothing grew. Nothing lived. Nothing died. The horizon was a pale smear among an ocean pale smears, and that was as close to a landmark as I had. I took a step away from Avi, and my foot sunk into the earth. His grip steadied me, and I realized the ground wasn't solid. It was a soup of bones and dirt and an oily black gunk. Unbidden, some part of my brain suggested that R2 should shut down all the garbage mashers on the detention level. I was clinging to Avi's arm like some girl on the cover of a romance novel, and I made myself stop, and regain my own feet. \n\n\"Avi-\" I started to growl, and then my glare landed on my boyfriend. Only...not. The creature whose fingers I had intertwined in my own was Not. His flesh was white. Not white like milk, or like sheets in a tide commercial, or white like a ghost. This was the sort of white they talk about in the bible. The sort of white that redefines the term. It seemed to almost luminesce. But it had broken. God, had it broken. It was as if the delicate porcelain of his flesh had been thrown against a wall that was made of nightmares. Fissures of stark, hateful black shattered what would have otherwise been creamy perfection. The white of his skin was veined, demolished at the joints and utterly gone in patches, with pure night. And no, night was as inadequate a term for the blackness that thrummed from Avi's very core as white was poor parlance for the remnants of his skin. The cracks were the black of the parts of space where there are no stars. They were the ebony of pure emptiness.\n\nHis eyes sat in pools of that blackness, little lights like a pair of ancient, dying red stars. When I met those eyes, I felt hope drain out of my body and into the bone soup at our feet. I was looking at eyes that had *seen* stars die. Just seeing gave me Knowledge, and as in that moment, I Knew. I Knew I was mortal, so, so mortal. I Knew how frail my pitiful little body was, how brief my sad, pointless existence was. I knew I was a shitty little mammal on a shitty little rock orbiting a shitty little sun in a shitty little spiral galaxy... And I Knew I would spend eternity in this eternity of grey nothing. I Knew I did not know what eternity meant. I knew my \"boyfriend\" Knew what eternity meant. He had Seen eternity. And now my pale, pitiful mortal eyes had Seen Him. \n\nI realized I was kneeling at Avi's feet, that I was weeping, and that I couldn't stop either, only when Avi spoke. \n\n\"Rachel, Daughter of Miriam, Rise. You need not lament, for you are righteous. Rise.\" His words echoed through the earth, through the air, through my very core. I rose. I don't think I wanted to, but I don't think I could have done otherwise.\n\n\"Please.\" I groaned, and my voice didn't sound like mine. It belonged to a creeping, kneeling mammal that begged only for a brief cessation of suffering. Those red eyes bored into me. His hand, his broken, twisted hand, leaking the tar of the abyss, caressed my cheek.\n\n\"Rachel, Daughter of Miriam, Blessed Among Women, Beloved of the Cursed, Weep no more. For He that Is, and Them that Are have looked upon you, and you have looked upon Oblivion. Granted unto you is Discernment.\" Avi intoned. I thought of the Quasimodo in the Hunchback of Notre Dame, ringing great bells from about 10 feet beneath their booming mouths. I suddenly empathized. \n\n\"What the fuck are you?\" I gasped. Maybe I sobbed. At the very least, I made an undignified slurpy begging sound. Avi, a pillar of alabaster glory riven by utter darkness, offered me an apologetic smile. He cupped my face in his glorious, hideous hands, and then slowly slid his palms up to cover my ears.\n\n\"I am Aviel, Aviel, who was the Son of God, who followed the Lucifer, the Morningstar, even unto the Abyss.\" When he spoke his name, his Name, Lucifer's Name, the sound was a physical thing. A brief, detached, part of my mind that was still capable of real thought realized that the wetness dripping down my neck was probably blood from my ears. \n\n\"We...\" I gasped, sucking air into my burning lungs in shuddering gasps. \"Really....\" Avi gave me a heartbroken, hopeful smile \"Need to....\" He bowed his head so that his forehead, his filthy, immaculate skin touched my own clammy flesh...god, had he always been so warm? Had I ever felt this warm? \"Talk....\" I finished. I couldn't remember how I had started that sentence. Aviel, Who Was the Son of God, Aviel, Who Was my Fucking Boyfriend, favored me with a smile that contained the collisions of galaxies. \n\n\"Yes, Beloved. We do.\" He said. And I realized that I would listen to whatever he had to say. I would follow him. I would follow him as he followed the Morningstar. I would follow that light.\n\n\nSomewhere, in the depths of his knowing smile, a star died. ", "My hands moved in a fury, \"No! NO! That cannot be true!\" I screamed in sign language at her. I couldn't believe that all those years we spent together meant nothing to her. She just admitted to me that she wasn't really a human but someone who fought at Lucifer's side.\n\nWe were walking along the park beside the Arkansas River in Little Rock and then she stopped me. She had something to admit to me and she just did.\n\n\"Honey, I'm so sorry. You were so right when you told me that I looked like an angel when we first met. Do you remember this?\" She asked in sign language and I hesitated. It was true that I did say that when we first met. I was walking down the street after I just got out of the taxi cab. Then there she was. I had to say hello to her and get to know her a bit more. Then she looked at me. I smiled. She smiled. The traffic of the pedestrians was all a blur. The shadows of the clouds passed over us so rapidly as we gazed at each other. I signed hello to her as we walked to each other. Then the ray of the sunshine shone upon her as she answered back in sign language. I couldn't really believe that this beautiful creature could be able to sign. Then I said, \"Wow, you really look like an angel.\" She just smiled and say \"I know.\"\n\n\"Steve?\" She woke me up from this wonderful flashback. And I looked down to her feet and I couldn't really believe how perfect our last couple of years has been. Everything about her seemed so perfect. She seemed to understand my flaws so well. Shoot, she didn't even care about my flaws at all and always said I'm perfect. She was so complete understanding of my humanity and I never wondered why. Just thought she was the most incredible partner that one man could ever ask for.\n\nAnd now I know why.\n\nI looked back up to her eyes and then suddenly, I noticed the aura around her just as like she is glowing of the sunshine. I asked, \"What's going on?\"\n\n\"Steve, you finally fell in love with me and I am finally free of this terrible curse. You didn't fall in love with me because of just my beauty. You had changed me so much. You changed the way I thought of heaven and hell. And I cannot really believe it that you had also made me see the way the world is being different than it was centuries ago. All of those children at the hospital loves you even when they are dying. They always adored you as they spent the last moments here on earth.\" I could feel my heart cracking.\n\nThen she became very brightened that I could not really make out her signs and she asked her last question. \"Would you like to be able to hear again?\" was something that appeared in my mind as it was a second consciousness that entered my mind. I couldn't really explain how this happened because I have never heard a sound in my entire life and I wasn't sure if it was this sound I am hearing or somehow it is a telepathy ability of hers.\n\nThen I signed, \"No.\" I knew that my deafness was always a curse but it was always a blessing. I could change the world and a girl's heart just because I am deaf and I would not let it be taken away.\n\nThen the night was all dark and quiet again. It was a long but happy walk back to my apartment.", "The first time that I met Sam, he just strolled up to me and said, “What’s the worst that can happen?”\n \nI was thinking about asking a guy I like out, but I was honestly terrified; things with my ex didn’t end… amicably, and I was afraid something similar would happen again.\n \nSam continued, like I wasn’t standing there, gawping with my mouth open at his beauty. “He could say no. If he says no, you know you can move on. If he says yes, you can try something. If it doesn’t work, then you’ll at least *know* that it won’t work. You won’t be guessing.” He smiled at me, kindly, and then walked away.\n \nI asked the guy out the next time I saw him. He said yes. We dated a few times, realized that there wasn’t much there except mutual horniness, and decided to be friends instead. Six years later, we’re like brother and sister.\n \nThe next time I saw Sam (six months later), I asked him his name, and asked if he wanted to have a cup of coffee with me. He wondered why I was asking him out for. I told him, “What’s the worst that can happen?”\n \nWe dated. We had a crazy, wild, awesome time that I cherish. We loved. We love. We moved in together, live together, and everything was amazing, and awesome.\n \nUntil I found out I was pregnant. I was joyous about it; and I told him in an enthusiastic bout of verbal diarrhea that we were to be parents. My first clue was when his face turned pasty-white, and he started fidgeting. My second clue was when he told me I shouldn’t keep the baby, and that if we wanted children, we should adopt.\n \n“Why?”\n \n“The baby will kill you.”\n \n“Wait, what?”\n \n“Can we chalk it up to intuition and call it a day?”\n \n“No. Why do you think that?”\n \nHe took a deep breath then told me of his history. His *real* history. I started to laugh.\n \n“You do realize I’m an atheist.” I said, between laughter. “You’ll need to come up with something better than that.”\n \nHe touched my forehead, and I saw it all. I saw the God that ordered the angels to love humanity above all, but then killed millions. The God that gave mankind free will then punished them for exercising it. The God that punished Sam and his garrison for daring to say “No” to contradictory orders. You see, to the victors goes the history. The God-Squad won the war in heaven. Lucifer, Sam, and the other Souls of Solomon fought to keep Michael from carrying out one particular order: tempt the humans, get them to sin, and then put them in Perdition. Humans were set up to fail. Lucifer saw this, and said he would have no part in it. They failed. Michael entered the garden in the guise of a snake using the Lightbringer’s name, and successfully temped Eve. Lucifer offered to take her place in hell. God ordered those who sided with Lucifer cast out.\n \nAt that moment, I saw Sammael, instead of Sam, and I loved him. His six wings, along with most of his skin, were burned almost beyond recognition. Scars from lashings, stab wounds, and slashes marred his skin. He was beautiful.\n \nBut I will not murder my own child, on a chance it would kill me. I told Sam we would seek out others like him, and hear their stories.\n \nWe did. Each time, either the mother or the baby died. I asked him which he would prefer—to have a wife, or to have a child. He said a wife. He feared God would kill the child, as he did the other Nephilim.\n \nI got a C-section three days before my due date. The child was stillborn.\n \nI’m no longer an atheist. To quote Riddick, I absolutely believe in God. And I absolutely hate the fucker." ]

[ 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 10, 12, 49 ]

[ "1411363436", "1411370645", "1411396331", "1411378236", "1411400470", "1411370416", "1411359387", "1411365853" ]

[ "I was miserable, it wasn't that Amy turned me down, it was how she did it.\n\n*\"You are too high minded...too intellectual. I couldn't hold a candle up to you. I don't want to be jealous of every college-read gal you meet in your offices or in your libraries and such\"*\n\nAll true. None of it plausible. She was my moon shot, the prettiest gal in town. Miss Keefee 2012 and 2011. A girl who wrenched my heart out of my rib cage like she was a Mortal Kombat character, then left it beating haplessly on the floor of Ricky's Grille....oozing life and necrotizing in despair.\n\nFive cans of cheap beer dulled the edge of what had transpired. Above the starry sky gleamed with the light of a few hundred stars, the presence of many more muted by the lights of the town behind me. Fuck it, I thought, it's off to Ag and Mech for a Masters degree. 300 miles of separation to from my despair. I wallowed in that moment of self pity, barely noticing the tiny craft make landfall about 10 yards behind my car. Only the dull thud as it touched down made me lazily roll my head back and shout \"What?!\" Then I noticed the glow, a barely perceptible blue. It came from around knee height. I staggered towards it, thanks more to a full bladder than drunkedness. \n\nThe craft was a simple sphere, about 2-3 feet in diameter, coated with what looked like the chrome finish fancy car parts use. It wasn't resting on any support and I could not tell why it wasn't rolling around. Neither could I pinpoint where the glow was emanating from. I moved closer and suddenly it zapped me. Bzzzt! No lightning cutting through the tepid air, no ozone smell like the storms and no explosion either. Just an unpleasant sting. \"Mother. Fucker!\" I recoiled a few steps, blinked a few times and stared at the thing. Worms! Tens of thousands of worms, all heaped into a wet, slimy undulating mass. I could see it like recalling a scene from an old movie. That thing was carrying them, or their eggs. They're UFOs, alien fucking worms! The thought caused me to smile. First contact! \"We come in peace!\" I shouted, smiling smugly. No response. \"Fuck....you...come in peace\". Bzzzt!! Worms....a bigger mass....cupped inside a hole or crevice carved into a massive sphere....around it stars...........\n\nThey ate planets. Or stars.\n\nI turned around and ran back to my car before that thing could zap me again. I turned back, it had not moved. I popped open the trunk and pulled out the half sack of ice mix that had been sitting there for six months. A mix of concrete, sawdust and salt. I held the mouth of the sack open and moved back towards the sphere. I took a handful and flung it at the sphere.....birds! think birds....early birds....get the worm....wriggly thing....held in its beak....make it an eagle....no,no...raven.....tearing off worm flesh...feeeding it to open baby beaks....I moved close to the thing and dunked the contents of the sack on it. \n\nBzzt.....ouch! Darkness.\n\nI came to at least two hours later. The words 'threatener' and 'warner' formed in my subconscious. I crawled to where the sphere stood and pushed the ice mix away. The grassy soil was unmolested and smooth. I had a pounding headache and the smell of ammonia and warm wetness along my thigh reminded me I had also peed myself. I got up and pulled my pants off, thew my boxers into the darkness of the field. I walked back to the car and threw my pants in the trunk. I burped, an evil fermented burp straight from the pit of hell. I turned on the radio and searched the AM band for a news station.\n\nAmy would never know what being with the defender of planet Earth was like.", "The night was quiet. The walls were sweating and the air was thick as molasses.\n\nCarl sat on his couch watching the latest Duck Dynasty. He spits a stream of dark juice from the large wad of chaw in his cheek and says, \"Honey, d'ya hear that outside?\"\n\n\"I ain't hear shit, *dear,* your daughter is shitting all over the bathtub right now,\" Debbie shouts from the bathroom.\n\nCarl spat into his spittoon and struggled to his feet. He donned his Bass Pros hat and dismissed his wife's pleas for assistance. This was a weird damn sound.\n\nHe peered out the screen door and flicked the switch of the outside porch light. The sound grew louder - it was akin to a high pitched cicada wail and it was unsettling. \n\nCarl stepped onto the porch and was accosted by a formation of softball sized beetles. \n\n\"Aw hell no. Honey, get your hairspray.\"\n\n\"God dangit, Carl, I'm cleaning up shit right now, Carl, *shit.*\" \n\n\"WOMAN GET ME THE DAMN HAIRSPRAY...and come watch *this* shit.\"\n\nDebbie delivered the aerosol hairspray just as the beetle formation had ascended the steps on the porch. Carl was waiting with his Zippo lighter.\n\nCarl spat a dark stream from his cheek into the bushes and initiated the Zippo flame. He held the Zippo flame in front of the aerosol can and began to spray. The fireball engulfed the first rank of beetles in flames. The beetles screamed like banshees. Carl cackled.\n\n\"D'ya see that shit Honey?\"\n\n\"Kill them fuckers Lover.\"\n\nCarl burned the entire Goolikan First Invasion Fleet and then pressed play on his Comcast remote to continue his favorite TV show.\n\n*disclaimer* **I'm not Carl.**\n\n**Also, I'm sorry for this**\n", "Second post here. Feedback is appreciated.\nI hope I'm not breaking any rules about someone responding to their own prompt. I understand there's no written rule *against* doing that, and I waited several hours before posting, so, let me know if I'm breaking any etiquette here. Also, sorry if I'm breaking any length requirements, as this is quite a bit long.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nU'larth-Pal took several steps away from the portal, flanked by his two elite guards, Del'ar-Nigath and T'oral-Fular. Two of the finest Kasanii soldiers who ever served under him. After his fifth world conquest and subsequent promotion to the 17th War Prime of Jura'll, he had been given special privilages, including his own special contingent. And so he chose his two most trusted comrades, who had served with him at countless battles, with their own battle prowess being nothing to scoff at- Nigath having saved his life more than once during the war on Esteneon, and Fular having single-handedly wiped out the dreaded, legendary Undying Corps. Of Valann-10112.\n\nAnd soon, this planet would be there's as well. They had done several cursory flyovers with a recon craft of this world. It was still a Class 0.7 civilization, still stuck in post-industrial/electronic stages, and, from what they could tell, stuck at that stage as well. These creatures still used simple radio and electro-magnetic frequencies for communication, hadn't learned how to stop the aging process (they barely lived beyond 80 of their own planet's cycles), still had to feed on organic matter for sustenance, hadn't even physically set foot on anything beyond their own satellite. Their primary source of power for their cities was to burn ancient, liquified plants plants, for Orvo's sake! As U'larth-Pal and his guards waited as the Warpgate charged and opened a receiving portal on the planet's surface, he wanted to think of the glorious battles that would follow, but instead, could only imagine how disgusting easy it would be to go against such a primitive race. There would be no challenge to it at all. Perhaps they would simply surrender and save him the trouble of bloodying his armor.\n\nAnd so he and his contingent were surprised that the moment they set foot out of the receiving end of the Warpgate, to see one of the natives sitting at a small table on a chair, an empty chair opposite to it, and tapping away at the surface of a small black device.\n\nU'larth-Pal remembered now that the info from the recons said they called themselves *hoomans,* although he'd never bothered to take a look at any pictures of them. Now that he was here, he could see just how ugly they were. It was deathly pale, and sickly-looking compared to the to U'larth-Pal's own red skin. And it's mouth was nothing more than a hole covered by two flaps of skin. And what was that stuff growing all over its head and face? Some kind of symbiote? And only one pair of eyes- so small, U'larth-Pal wondered if it could even see him standing just ten meters ahead of him.\n\nU'larth-Pal looked around. They were in an open expanse, the ground covered with some gray, solid stone-like substance. All around them were white pillars, and just beyond, the walls of some building that seemed to wrap around the entire area. Apparently the Warpgate had opened up in the courtyard of some complex. *A public gathering place, perhaps?* U'larth-Pal thought. *Excellent, the more people who see us, the sooner word of our presence will get out. And hopefully the sooner this pathetic race will surrender.* U'larth-Pal glanced back at the human. It was still tapping away at the device it was holding in its hand. U'larth-Pal looked around at the pillars. Then why is this *hooman* the only one here?\n\nU'larth-Pal looked back at the hooman, who, had finally looked up and had locked gazes with U'larth-Pal's lower set of eyes through the faceplate of his helmet. It opened it's mouth and emitted some horrible noise, somewhere between an incomprehensible babble and an annoying chattering. It actually took a few seconds before the lingual decryption program in his suit's in-built computer successfully spoke a translation.\n\n“Hello there. Won't you have a seat, please?”\n\nWow. U'larth-Pal wasn't intimately familiar with human behavior or customs, they seeming informality of the greeting was almost insulting. He walked forward, managing slow, deliberate steps. Even with the battle armor on, the planet's heavy gravity required him to be careful. He flicked his upper right eye downward, bringing up a panel in his vision displaying the suit's power-management functions, but closed it as he decided that it could wait.\n\nHe stopped right behind the chair. Looking down at the hooman, he could not only see in greater detail how truly disgusting it looked, but just how unbelievably tiny it was compared to him. This creature wouldn't even stand to U'larth-Pal's shoulder wearing his Battlearmor. And even out of it, U'larth-Pal must stand at least a whole head-and-a-half taller. And if the clothing was any indication, these creatures seemed to prefer modesty over practicality and function. It was wearing a black, uncomfortable-looking synthetic weave of some sort, with a black, heavy-looking vest over its chest. U'larth-Pal had heard that the *hoomans* at one point wore plant-fibers and animal skins, and that some of them still did.\n\nThe creature lowered its head as it looked back down at the small device in its hand and began tapping away again. This sheer lack of respect to U'larth-Pal was becoming irritating. He looked at the *hoomans* head, idly wondering how difficult it would be, if at all, to crush it with a single hand. Finally, the *hooman* stopped tapping at the device and looked up again. It's mouth opened and let out that awful garble that passed for an excuse for speech. His Battlearmor's computer quickly began running to produce a translation. Now, U'larth-Pal just wanted to crush the *hooman's* head, if for no other reason than to stop that Orvo-awful noise of language coming out of its hideous face. 3 seconds later, the computer finally spit out a translation.\n\n“Who are you, and what are your intentions?”\n\nU'larth-Pal turned on the inbuilt speaker of his helmet and spoke as his computer produced a monotone-sounding translation in the creature's language. Against all laws of probability, this somehow managed to make the native's language sound even worse.\n\n“I am U'larth-Pal, 17th War Prime of Jura'll, and we are here to discuss the terms of your subjugation under the Kasani Empire. You will surrender immediately or face destruction of untold scale.”\n\n“I see.” The native glanced back down and started tapping away at its device again. Now U'larth-Pal was just angry. Of all the planets he had conquered, the natives would either bow down to him and his forces, flee in a blind panic, or at the very least, put up some futile resistance (the last being his favorite response, as it was, by far, the most entertaining). But to be ignored? To someone of his standing, this was quite possibly the gravest insult of all. He looked down and had just began to reach for his sidearm, no longer willing to dirty his hands on this insolent creature (besides, that symbiote growing all over its head could be contagious), when the hooman spoke again. He only stayed his hand out of curiosity of the creature's response, but what his translator spoke, he quickly looked back at the human, shocked by what he heard.\n\n“That would probably be a very bad idea.”\n\nWell this was a new one. No native on any world had ever straight-up tried to bluff their way out of an invasion, before. All four of U'larth-Pal's eyes were focused on the hooman now. Now he was curious. *Alright, let's see how this plays out. Might actually be fun.* U'larth-Pal spoke and a second later the speaker on his helmet spat out the translation.\n\n“Explain.”\n\n“What I'm saying,” U'larth-Pal's translator spoke out, several seconds behind the *hooman's* speech, as it put down the small device on the table (finally, thought U'larth-Pal), “Is that it would be a huge mistake. For you. Possibly your last.”" ]

[ 3, 3, 33 ]

[ "1411433149", "1411438416", "1411434628" ]

[ "A sharp pain went through my skull just as I was waking up. I looked down over my bruised body and remembered what had happened yesterday. I could still feel the electricity flowing through my body, finding every nerve, every vein in my body and causing agonizing pain.\n \nI could still remember the scarred face of my father still looked up at me with some form of pride. The sounds coming to my right alerted me to where I actually was. The soft cooing sound of the ewoks sleeping was almost soothing. Almost.\n\nI tried not to wake them as I shimmied throughout the mass of huddled bodies. The sharp pieces of the wooden floor poked the bottom of my feet, and the rough rope of the treetop village felt rough against my battle worn hand. The phantom pain in my right hand reminded me of the loss that I had suffered. I was consoled by the memory of the previous night. \n\nMy father, accompanied by two other spectral beings, visited me in a vision. He looked younger than he was, and it was hard to recognize him outside of his scarred and masked form. \n\nI felt anger inside me, why did my father have to die. I feel worthless. I started to think dark thoughts. My father didn't have to die from this, nobody did. The empire had killed so many innocent people, maybe it is time to carry on the legacy left by my father. \n\nFor years, he had carried out justice across the galaxy under the guise of \"Darth Vader\". He had brought balance to the galaxy, he was the most powerful Jedi to ever exist, and I am here to carry on his legacy. ", "Will we go walking today? I'd really like to see the garden. \n\n...\n\nThe garden is so beautiful this time of year, you say so yourself. \n\n...\n\nI'm sorry about last week. I really shouldn't have done that. I'm sure it greatly hurt your feelings to see me bound away without a care in the world. I'm sorry. I just got so excited. \n\n...\n\nI know you read these scraps of paper. I can hear you up there. \n\n...\n\nPlease let me out. I promise I won't run. I promise. ", "I brushed away a satiny blonde lock of hair, that was trying desperately to entwine itself in the wand I'd set behind my ear and blinked my green gold-flecked eyes twice before raising my hand to pinch a cheek of my heart shaped face. There he stood out there across the river, cloaked in grey and mist.\n\n\nVoldemort.\n\n\nMy nemesis, my enemy, dark wizard... and killer.\n\n\nHe had killed Xaxis my pet centaur yesterday and drained her blood.\n\n\nIn the distance, my beloved Harry and Ron were still fighting...\n\n\n\"She's mine!\"\n\n\n\"No, she's mine!\"\n\n\n\"She's mine!\"\n\n\n\"No, she's mine!\"\n\n\nI would have to confront the Dark Lord myself. I turned to my truest companions, the half-giant Thrawp, the former dark wizard Daxiz, the house-elf Mendy and Dumbledore, that dear grand old sizard sho had thought me so much in the past 27 hours.\n\n\n\"I won't let you down,\" I said.\n\n\n\"We know you wont!\" said Dumbeldore nodding his head up and down vigorously.\n\n\n\"Do you remember the Avada Re-Kevadra spell I thought you?\"\n\n\n\"The secret forbidden spell that kills both living and undead? Yes, Dumbledore I do. I will kill Voldemort with it.\"\n\n\nSomething large wrapped its hand around me. Thrawp. \"Thrawwp love Megan.\"\n\n\n\"I know you do, Thrawp,\" I mumbled, suddenly very teary.\n\n\nAnd then I turned and fled across the grey ford, clutching the Cloak of True Invisibilty Godric Gryffindor had left behind for me. Somehow I just knew that bitch Hermione Granger was involved. I'd probaby have to face her too.\n\n\nThe gray figure across the river remained still awaiting our duel. An ending was approaching. He wouldnt know about the cloak, and that would be his undoing. I readied myself to put on the cloak and jump to the side, distracting him before finish him off with my forbidded secret spell. It was a simple strategy, but it would be effective.\n\n\nVoldemort still did move. He stood grimly facing me, watching.\n\n\nI shivered. His was the face of true evil... malevolent. He looked on you not as a person but as a thing with either some worth to him right now... or not. Like a creep, he creeped me out.\n\n\nI felt my foot hit land and two things happened at once. I jumped to my right, yanking Godric's coat around me, and Voldemort well stood there. \n\n\n\"Die, dark lord scum, die,\" I said behind my cloak, firing off Avada Re-Kedrava.\n\n\nNothing happened.\n\n\nVoldemort stood still, unmoved.\n\n\nI approached the figure gingerly, beneath my cloak. Was the Dark Lord already dead?\nI touched his unmoving still form, watching in horror as it collapsed into shadow and twilight twisted into form.\n\n\n\"What the-\"\n\n\n\"Avada Kedrava\"\n\n\nA thin plume of crimson blood shot through me.\n\n\nI turned around.\n\n\n\"A shadow,\" Voldemort whispered from behind me.\n\n\n\"But, how did you see though my Cloak. Its the most powerful magical artifact in this world,immune to spells, magic, true sight...\" I trailed off. I was beginning to feel cold. The world was slipping away.\n\n\n\"It makes me special here!\"\n\n\n\"Who could see through this?\"\n\n\n\nVoldemort flushed crimson looking upwards, before bashfully lowering his head, \"Ugh... no telling. People... just people.\"\n\n\n\"People,\" I said, \"...figures. They always make fun of me. I deserve to die, don't I? Stupid silly writer and all.\"\n\n\nAnd then the world went dark, that beautiful deep night-time dark of the sky after the rain, something that always moves my soul though I'm probably describing it poorly. Anyway it's that black as I die. \n\n\nAnd that's my adventures done. ", "You are briskly walking away from the restaurant you just came from. Your meal was good, you gave a good tip and all. But why did you do it? For personal gain, financial benefits? Or was it for some unknown reason, maybe you found it fun. You liked the last option as you managed a grin, But anyway that doesn't matter now. You keep walking, you start to whistle a pop song from the 80's.\n\nNow you stop a fair distance away from the restaurant, in the beaming light of a lamppost. The people walking down the street don't notice you. But then again you doubt anyone will. Your just a normal guy walking home in the middle of the evening. You take a look at your watch, for some reason your counting the seconds now.\n\nYou take a deep breath and look back into the restaurant and you hear screaming as a man drops to the floor dead, faintly you can hear \"This man has been poisoned somebody get an ambulance, fast!\" You light a cigarette and walk away, as you walk you can't help from smiling. ", "Michael awoke with a gasp, his eyes wide with fear as he quickly scanned his surroundings. He was tangled up in a thin blue sheet atop a twin bed, his walls littered with posters for various teams and bands. Fumbling to release himself from the sheet, he stumbled towards the sunshine pouring through the uncovered window.\n\nThere were people outside, hundreds of people just going about their lives. They drove fancy cars, they packed the sidewalks, they loitered in the park. The sun was already high in the sky and reflected from countless windows in a city full of hundreds of thousands of people, and of them all only Michael knew what was coming.\n\n\"Please,\" he whispered, \"please don't stop reading.\"\n\nHe'd been through this before hundreds, perhaps thousands of times and each time unique yet identical. He still had no idea why of all the people he'd ever seen only he retained memories from previous incarnations, but it was no blessing. The city, the world, the people existed only as long as the story, only as long as somebody kept reading. The readers themselves would probably never know how many lives they could snuff out with the simple turn of a page.\n\nAn explosion down the street caught his attention as two sleek sports cars sped towards him. They continued at a dangerous pace, drawing the attention of everybody they passed, but only Michael knew what was coming. The protagonist was in one of those cars, and once the backdrop changed", "Two light bulbs, lit, on the floor lamp. One dripping like the lantern of an angler fish, one a bowl of light-a crown. They're hurting my eyes and I can barely see the figure in front of me. I'm either sleepy or asleep, either could be true but the latter would be preferable. I've never seen a gun before this, although from here it just looks like a reflection on a twisted metal fist. I'm woken up, brought to my study, made to write this \"suicide note\"-Christ. I wonder how long it will take until this cunt just shoots me right in the teeth. I pray to whatever gods I neglected in my lifetime that he or she can't read upside-down.\n\nI do wonder who the hell the mysterious figure is. It's too dark to make out body shape, but I'm pretty sure there are no tits. Could be bound, bound tits. Are you transgender, my mysterious would-be murderer? Have you come to strangle me with your tit-wrap? Is that what they call it, maybe it's more of a tit-turban. Turban for your tits. Rich as I am, that concept would have made me richer for the offensive novelty alone. I'm sorry, killer to-be, if I have given offense one last time. The rest of it I'm not so sorry for.\n\nWhat do they want? Vengeance, money? What do you want? I stand before you a poor old man, as full of grief as age. I read that once, my memory fails in the searching. Will you read this after I'm gone, o Releaser? Is that what you do, you murder the most interesting among us, just to see what we'll write in our last few moment of consciousness?\n\nBLOODSTAIN\n\nIN YOUR HANDWRITING, ONE WORD;\n\nYes.", "It was at 06:13 when the snow began to melt. It had been here for months, but now the slow flow of water through the streets heralded the beginning of spring. It came later than expected.\n\nIt was at 07:12 when the jogger went on their run. They had made the same run for the last three years, and their figure had definitely improved for all their effort. But whether they weighed 300kg or 30kg, what they saw this morning still made them spill bile onto the pavement.\n\nIt was at 08:27 when the police finally arrived. Why they had taken so long was anyone's guess; perhaps they didn't take the call all that seriously. It did not take them long to cordon off the area, and do a thorough investigation of their newly erected crime scene.\n\nBy 09:45 the body was taken away. The dental records would prove useful, but he had been dead for too long for the rest of him to be of much help other than the knife embedded in his chest. At least, that was to be assumed: who knows what they can do with forensic technology now-a-days. Either way, their job was made difficult by the months that it had lain unassuming in that pile of snow, undisturbed. What was certain was they would discover his name. Then they would discover he was supposed to have been abroad, and so was not reported missing.\n\nFive days later, at 13:03, they came knocking for the owner of the knife. They would discover that it had been missing from its owner for the past few months. They would discover that she had been the last person in contact with the deceased. They would discover from the neighbours that it had been a fight, contrary to the wary testimony of the accused. At 16:56, she was taken into custody, and driven away to a fate unknown.\n\nYou watched from your window as these events unfolded. You watched and you smiled.", "\"My last words to my world.\n\nI do not write this letter in my blood, for I have not bled enough. I would have if I could have, even though I always keep a perfectly functional ballpoint pen on me. Blood fits last words with a macabre sincerity.\n\nThis factory, though, does not fit my end. I am sure it is a place of Death - circumstances show I can't be the first to last draw breath here - but I always figured I'd die out there, in the sun or rain. I was born outside after all, my mother had been too lazy to be bothered to drive to a hospital. My welcome to this world was a faceful of sand and the early afternoon beating sun.\n\nIdeally, I simply wouldn't have died. It apparently wasn't my destiny, as evidenced by the giant bear trap's spikes puncturing my thighs.\n\nAnyway, I want my last words to be to you. \n\nTo the man who killed me, in ink spread on my skin:\n\nGo to Hell.\"", "*Della walked home today. Her mum forgot her again. Her mum Alice was married to her job. She rounded the corner and saw a car parked there.* \n\n*The man sitting in it was her teacher Mr Rawlings. He was her favorite teacher. He never gave her homework. And he always had a special gift for her. He was like a father to her. Mr Rawlings saw Della \"Did your mum forget you again?\" Della had ha this conversation with him before. \"Yeah. She is always so busy with her job\" Mr Rawlings told her to hop in and he would give her a lift home.*\n\n*As he drove past her street Della started to worry \"That's my street sir\" Mr Rawlings told her not to worry. He was going to take her for ice cream. Della believed him until they hit the outskirts of town. She didn't even know where she was anymore. \"Where are we going sir?\"she asked, she was getting scared now. Mr Rawlings pulled the car over and without a word smacked face. Her eyes welled up with tears. \"Don't you even think about crying.\" His voice was sinister. He got out of the car, walked around and opened her door and ordered her out.*\n\n*She did as she was told, afraid for what might happen. She shakily unbuckled the seat belt and was pulled out of the car and onto the ground. Rawlings bound her hands and feet and put a pillowcase over her head. He picked her up and shoved her into the back of the car, got in and kept driving. He knew he had a couple of hours to drive, her workaholic mum wouldn't even know she was missing until she got home at nearly midnight.*\n\nAnthony Rawlings finished the chapter and slammed the book shut with a thud. He already knew what happened next. He had lived it. He had been hiding in England for 6 years now. Noone knew who he was or what he had done. He didn't speak to anyone for fear of being caught and yet here was an account of the crime he had committed in great detail. He had to know, was it a coincidence that the author of the book wrote this story? Or was there a witness that day? \n\n\n☆ This is the first time I've ever written anything on WP I usually keep all my stories to myself. Sorry for poor skills XD ☆\n", "I haven't slept. My body weakens day by day, and I waste away, but still I dare not sleep, for fear of what might happen. The doctor's say it's an illness of the mind, a phantom of the psyche. Oh it's a phantom alright, and it is in my head, but it's real.\n\nAt first, I thought it was just the creaking of the old house. The worn floorboards, the branches scraping against the brick and mortar. Shadows cast through the window that my mind distorted into terrible shapes. But it was more. I was being watched, listened to, my brain's very thoughts dissected.\n\n*Hello* I would scream into the empty house, and be answered only by an echo, as if mocking my sanity. I know you're there. I'm not insane. It's not the house, nor is it the solitude. I wish there was solitude, for I'm not alone, never alone. Whoever you are, peering at me from afar, get out. GET OUT. GET OUT. You invade my soul, my very essence of being, taking my innermost thoughts and cutting them up into easily digestible pieces.\n\nWhy? To feel something from my pain? Monster. Get out....\n\nYou must be able to see me, hear me. For what other reason would you derive so much pleasure from seeing me writhe and suffer.\n\nGo away. I beg you. Yes, you. Please, just stop. I'm so tired..." ]

[ 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 6, 7, 14, 42 ]

[ "1411593155", "1411610815", "1411577674", "1411590458", "1411606892", "1411584444", "1411576751", "1411574216", "1411574606", "1411577618" ]

[ "as I run away from the wizard I noticed one place I could go. The cemetery. I am a necromancer after all. \n\nMy thought was broken when another burst of red plasma shot past my head. I shot another Flaming Skull back at him and heard him slightly yelp then shout \"Parkour!\" I ducked into the cemetery and ran toward a tall gravestone I could hide behind. I grabbed the stone on my necklace and forced my will into it and summoned the undead. \n\n\"Hell's Bells,\" I heard him mutter as corpse after corpse worked their way out of their graves. I stood up, composed myself and slowly walked out with my hands in my pockets. \"Well, well, well Mr.Dresden. you really had me on the ropes there but now the tide have turned.\" I could see the panic in the aging wizards eyes. \"go get him.\" I said as I extended my hands toward him. \n\n\"actually sir...\" one of the corpses uttered, \"we where thinking of forming a union.\" I think my eye twitched slightly. \"WHAT?!\" I shouted in rage, \"I brought you back to life now do my bidding and KILL HIM ALREADY!\" They all just looked at each other. \"What are you waiting for? me to join you guys? because that's going to take a while!\" I said. \"Might be sooner than you think\" Harry said. Confused I just gave him a look as he pointed his staff toward me, said a quick word under his breath, and pain exploded in my chest. within a red flash of light and heat I was on the ground. \n\nI laid on the ground motionless as snow started to fall on my face. I heard the crunch of the corpses laying back into their coffins and the wizard walking toward me. \"you are an idiot for thinking you can start trouble on my turf kid. the white council will be here soon to collect you, weather you are dead or alive.\" he said. I looked at him and I said, \"Wizard...\" in a soft voice. he looked at me like he wanted to know what I wanted to say. \"That hurt...\" I say. With a chuckle he says, \"It's supposed to kid.\" from one of the graves I hear, \"YOU DESERVED IT ASSHOLE!!!\" after that Dresden couldn't hold his laughter in anymore.", "\"You'll never have us, bastard! Not our souls!\" yelled the talking dead-man at the top of the battlements. I could hear the screams of the women and children as the men slaughtered them in hopes of saving their souls. The howls of the massacre were one hell of a tease, infuriating to my hungry form. Such waste. One had as well burn money or allow good meat to rot as do this. It was a crime that they would pay for, and most harshly.\n\nThe rattling march of the Skeltals brought a smile to my face. The hold would soon be completely surrounded, and then the harvest would begin. The reaping of the men alone would be enough to nearly double my power, making me the mightiest Necromancer the Western sea had ever seen. And I did not doubt that some frail, fool women would hide away their children in the hope of their survival. And survive they would, among my ranks. I licked my lips at the thought.\n\nMy right hand, Mallard, a Skeltal as yellowed as a cheap whore’s teeth, respectfully knelt in front of me. \"Mal. Are the dead in position?\" I asked, my need to feast making me shake with anticipation. I had decided I would fight among them and feed on man-flesh. \n\n\"Yes, Your Greatness, we are deployed as ordered,\" he said in his scratchy, dead tone. \n\nMy mouth watered and my blood leapt with excitement. \"Then sound the advance!\" I screamed lustfully, beginning to stride toward the iron-studded oak gates.\n\n\"Uh, sir?\" Mallard hesitantly asked.\n\n\"*What*?\" I snarled, spraying hot spittle all over his porous skull.\n\n\"Well, we're not going to advance, sir. Not until you accede to some of our demands.\"\n\n\"*DEMANDS?*\" My power began to show, distorting the air around me and sending my too-large shadow in all directions, a darkness that was death for the living to touch. \n\n\"Well, uh, requests, actually sir. Just some things me and the men have talked over and feel that we need.\" Mallards raspy voice managed to crack, despite his absence of vocal cords. \n\n\"Oh, so you can *feel* now?\" My words were full of condescending malice. He rattled were he stood, bones clacking against one another like a particularly annoying instrument. \"Then feel THIS!\" My power came to me in full as my words howled through him. He blew apart in a cloud of fine dust resembling a flowers pollen. I inhaled sharply, taking in the shattered soul and feeling its warmth course through me. \n\n\"MARCH FORWARD OR KNOW HELL!\" Had the Skeltals had eardrums, they would have gone deaf at the boom of my ultimatum. Without hesitation, they strode forward to do my bidding, putting aside all thoughts of freedom and comfort.\n", "\"What do we want?\"\n\n**\"Brains!\"**\n\n\"When do we want it?\"\n\n**\"Brains!\"**\n\nMorganos the Undying arose from his slumber and looked out to see his minions on strike. So he transformed himself into an inn-keeper, and teleported to a small country village to try to find a hero to stop this rebellion. \n\nOne day a hero came and asked him, \"have you heard of any jobs around?\" \n\nSo, Morganos repeated the speach that he had rehearsed, \"O my, the lych king has risen an undead army outside his castle. I wish someone would destroy that army.\"\n\n\"Aha! A quest! I'm off to destroy the undead army.\"\n\n\"heh, too easy.\"", "\"I'm telling you, Larry, he can't do shit *without us.* We are the ones doing the legwork. We storm the villages. We attack the heroes. We collect the gold and jewels, and for what?\" \n\n\"For nothing!\" Ted interjected.\n\n\"For worse than nothing,\" Brad replied. \"We get the arrows, the ice daggers, the *fucking fireballs*. We get the sharp end of spears and our limbs cut off again and again and again. What? Don't we deserve a little peace? A little restitution? A little something for working like the undead slaves we are?\"\n\nThe others nodded fervently. \n\nBrad continued, \"I'm not asking for the damned *book.* I'm not asking for a fancy robe or enchanted amulet. I'm just asking that we be treated with a little bit of dignity.\"\n\n\"I was a nobleman in my previous life!\" John shouted from nearby.\n\n\"You see that?\" Brad asked Larry. \"John was a fucking nobleman in his past life.\" He broke eye contact with Larry. \"And what do you do now, John?\"\n\n\"He takes my skin for potions.\"\n\nBrad looked back at Larry, but pointed a thumb back towards John. \"They take his fucking skin for potions. Disgraceful.\"\n\nAfter a moment of silence passed in the dank, torchlit cave, Larry leaned forward and said, \"I'm in!\"\n\nThere was a cheer among the undead that was peppered with the rattle of bones and the soft clanking of armor.\n\n\"I mean, what's the worst that could happen?\" Larry asked.\n\n\"He puts us back where he fucking found us,\" Brad grumbled." ]

[ 1, 3, 6, 18 ]

[ "1411603513", "1411611838", "1411599807", "1411595774" ]

[ "The other seven looked upon the two; knowing the message, having heard it before. He stood as silent witness to his humble beginnings, to his final destiny. Having all experienced this exact moment before, he knew better than to speak or otherwise interrupt what was about to happen.\n\nThe eldest leaned in close and whispered to the youngest words that would shape a lifetime. Within these words held the power to shape not only his life but the lives of everyone around him in ways even his older self would never be able to fully understand.\n\nThe old man then looked upon himself, eyes full of emotion, knowing he was close to his end, taking in every detail in the many faces that he once wore. The trials and tribulations he had ahead of him; the victories and defeats he had yet to celebrate and suffer were all something the old man wanted nothing more to live through but one more time. \n\nHe remembered the words he spoke to himself those many years ago, always wondering what he meant and what would compel himself to utter the words that he knew he was thinking of in this exact moment. It is only at this moment did the understanding come; an entire lifetime spent trying to understand something he had understood a lifetime ago. The understanding of understanding made the old man's face light up as bright as the sun; eyes twinkling stars in the night sky. \n\nHe gave himself one last look and nodded to himself before walking away. \n", "31 - \"Hello, is this the right location for the interview?\"\n\n54 - erm, well, yes, please sit down Mr. thenewtbaron.\n\n31 - here are my resumes, references and I'm ready to go\n\n54 - we don't need those right now, we'd like to talk first\n\n31 - ok, well, I guess that isn't so unusual. \n\n54 - 36, please go ahead \n\n36 - Mr. thenewtbaron, please explain to me why you are treating your girlfriend so shittily. \n\n31 - whoa, this is kinda inappropriate. why are you calling each other numbers, why do you all look alike? Is this a cult?\n\n54 - I thought you would have been smarter about this, would have realized the situation... *sigh*, ok, we are various versions of you... us... that have all come back to try to fix the situation and bullshit that we?....or you? have gotten us into.\n\n31 - ok, not the weirdest thing I have been through today.\n\n54 - what.\n\n31 - I have been fighting inter-time knights.. and I think I saved an alternate me who was a princess. That was pretty confusing, I was a very attractive woman, I am a moderate looking man... so I gue...\n\n54 - I don't remember any of that, does anyone else, 36... 47? nobody?\n\n31 - well, let's see if we can figure this out.. how does your time junk work? does it pull me to your time, does it pull you to my time, are you in a little like umm.. warp bubble of time, are you maybe a different multiverse thing?\n\n47 - well, we found a natural cave that collected chronotons and we... I, built a device to funnel them into a room that can move through time and space... I guess it is like the warp bubble.\n\n31 - so, you took yourself out of time, did you destroy all the information about this place...device... thing...\n\n54 - completely.\n\n31 - but it is a semi-natural occurence, right? You have probably been bopping around my... our timeframe, spreading that crono-rad all around me... now, naturally this shit is drawn to me.\n\n36 - I don't understand, I think we don't understand.\n\n31 - look, I appriciate what you are trying to do but think of it this way... if I would have changed you would die or not exist when you step out of your little bubble of time. Things have changed, your advice is for a previous time version of you... not even me. \n\nboard - *mouths agap*\n\n31 - I will say though, you did help... I was getting bored of life, I was going to fuck around, steal, and end up as you guys. now, I have time-knights to fight...and I think I saw a hyper-plasma dragon... well, I am going to go see what the female version of me looks like naked. smell yah lates.", "Informal settings have always been best. I’d always imagined having my room set up something like a lounge in what I imagine Kashmir being like, seeing as I, at no point in my life had ever been. We’d sit close to the floor, on pillows, or bean bags, a low coffee table in the middle, perhaps a hookah upon it.\n\tIt’s unclear what has brought me, and so many other ‘me’ s here. A strange drug, that I can’t remember taking possibly. It’s hard to explain, but I’ll try anyway. I’m sitting, in a place very much like the one I’ve just described, with myself, 9 times over. A child, me at 5, fidgets uncomfortably, next to what must be me at 12. Wondering what kind of bearing they’ll bring to this strange gathering I realize is strange in itself. By the known laws of physics, there should only be one of me in anyone place and time. Drugs, I’m sure, though I’m not. Fresh faced, wearing a Super Mario T-shirt and jeans, me at 17 occupies a bean bag. His look is blank, especially compared to the heavily bearded, short haired me of 20, sitting in his best attempt at half lotus. Despite the beard, you can see a sly grin contorting the right side of his - or, I guess, my - face. Have you been expecting this? I don’t ask him. He might. I might. It’s a fantasy I’ve had before. Again, drugs. I think.\n\tI’m 24. Long haired, a look I’ve favored for the past 2 or 3 years. There are 4 others. 30’s, 40’s, maybe late 50’s or 60’s, I can’t tell. And one old man, just barely recognizable as me.\n\t“So,” I begin, at 20, stupid grin not leaving my face. He looks pleased. He looks at himself at 17 with a smugly pitying look. He looks at me, at 24, and winks. The gesture makes me cringe. I think the older versions of myself shake their heads, but I’m not sure. I’m barely able to look at anyone. “What brings us all here.”\n\t“Something,” I say at 30, mimicking the foolish optimism of my younger days, “has gone wrong.”\n\tIt’s something I’ve known, me at 24, that is, but can’t put my finger on it. “Well I got us laid,” I say, at 17. I clench my jaw. Outrageous.\n\t“And I got us out to see the world,” I smugly say, 20 with all the answers. Though, remembering it, I knew I didn’t have them. Have I always been, will I always continue to be so hard on myself? Me in my 50’s or 60’s pulls out a joint and lights up. Certainly I’ve gotten bolder. I steal a glance at my 12 and 5 year old selves.\n\t“It’s nothing any one of us did,” says the oldest man in the room. He looks at the youngest versions of myself in turn. Then, he looks at me. “And that,” he continues, “is the heart of the problem.”\n", "Ten of us at one table, each waiting for someone to begin, we stared at each other uneasily. \n\nI had to break the silence, so I did so by asking, \"Have I finally lost my mind?\"\n\nThe oldest of us, older than I'd ever expected to look, with liver-spots on the backs of my hands and on my bald head, and a tremor in his/my hands, replied in an equally tremulous voice, \"You've done a lot of things in your life for which you will be most regretful. We're here to point them out and try to ensure that you don't screw this up. I'm 73, so I guess you can just call me 73 to save you the confusion.\"\n\nEach of the others piped in with their ages, 35, 39, 42, 44, 45, 51, 55, and 62, and looking at each of them gave me a sense of vertigo. Jesus, I was getting a glimpse into the future of how I was to age. To my credit, 73 appeared to at least be sound of mind. I'd worried about dementia or Alzheimer's. \n\n\"What, there are no younger versions of me here? I've got plenty of sage advice to impart upon younger me.\"\n\n\"This doesn't work like that, believe me,\" 73 answered grimly, \"We tried, but you at 34 was the youngest we could reach. I believe that there's a limit of years I could traverse, and 39 is it. This type of technology does not exist before my age, and the machine itself cannot be brought back. Each of us, excluding yourself, holds a small marker, which will return them to our respective year, and every marker must be buried somewhere so that they can never be found. But I'm not here to explain every little detail of that. Listen closely, 34, and heed our advice.\"\n\n\"Wait,\" I held a hand up, and 73 stopped talking, \"This is ridiculous! Who's to say that the advice that 35 gives me, if I follow it, won't cancel out all the advice the rest of you give me? Once I follow 35's advice, my path will change, won't it?\"\n\n73 shook his head, \"Whether or not you follow 35's advice, it makes no difference for you. You are set upon your path, and if you veer from it, something else will lead you right back to it.\"\n\n\"Then what is the point of following any of your advice if it won't change anything for me?\"\n\n\"The point of this is not to change your path, but to separate it from the people whose paths intersect or parallel yours. We're here to save them, not you. By changing these things, your path will sadly remain the same, but you can change others' paths in ways that will benefit them.\"\n\nI was more than confused now.\n\n73 continued, \"Don't get us wrong, 34, you're not a bad person, really. We should know, we were all where you are now, or where you were before this meeting. The problem is that a lot of people will be hurt by you, and we're in agreement here that it is an unnecessary hurt. We're not guaranteeing their happiness, only ensuring that you will not be the cause of their unhappiness.\"\n\nI looked at 35, who nodded, \"Cara Sandoval. You meet her on the side of the road while you change her flat tire for her. Just drive by, let someone else help her. It's for the best.\"\n\n39 spoke up, \"Melanie Chapman. She's a great woman, met her in line at the bank.\"\n\nEach of them took their turn, each one giving me a name, telling me how I was to meet them, and I was nonplussed and beginning to get angry.\n\n\"So what exactly are you guys saying, that I'm supposed to be alone for the rest of my life or I'll end up hurting these women? What kind of crazy shit is that?\"\n\n73 nodded sadly, \"Believe me, it'd be better if you were alone. Like I said, you're not a bad person, you just tend to hurt those around you, and each of us regrets it afterward, but it just seems to be unavoidable.\"\n\n\"Maybe you could just tell me how to do things the right way so I won't screw it up,\" I suggested, my teeth clenched.\n\n\"We thought about that, but the fact that we're still here, with the same intentions, proves without a doubt that it won't help.\"\n\nThe pity, sympathy, and regret on their faces made me want to scream in rage, but I managed, \"Then there's no hope for me? No chance for me to change for the better?\"\n\n\"Perhaps if we could've reached you at 17, we might've had a better chance. I think we might've made a difference then.\"\n\nI glared at 73, furious with him and the others, seething at the thought that all was hopeless for me. There had to be another way, but none of them had any insight on what that could be. \n\n\"This is bullshit! I don't believe any of you! I don't want to spend the rest of my life alone, and I'm not going to. I WILL change my own path, and I don't care what any of you have to say about it otherwise! I choose my own path, and it is NOT set in stone!\"\n\n\"Well,\" responded 73 with no anger, only sadness in his voice, \"It is true that we cannot force you to follow our advice. But we were hoping to avoid revealing too much about your future. Unfortunately, it is unavoidable.\"\n\nHe looked at 35, nodded, and 35 began to talk, \"Something will happen to you, something that will change you for the worse. I'm not able to tell you what it is, but, after it happens... It's awful.\"\n\n\"Then that's the advice you need to give me,\" I snapped, \"Avoid whatever this thing is that's supposed to change me! What is it? Tell me!\"\n\n\"We're not allowed to tell you. It is part of your path, and it is inevitable.\"\n\n\"To hell with that! Tell me right now!\"\n\n73 interjected, \"Have you ever wondered why God never answered your prayers?\"\n\n\"Sure, because He doesn't give a shit,\" I replied hotly.\n\n\"Not at all. He knows all of our paths, but, for all His power, our free will does not allow Him to alter the paths we're on. You are set upon your path by your own doing, by all of the actions or inactions in your life. While you, using your free will, can alter small events on your path, your path continues on, and, at a certain point, you become too much a part of your path to fight it or swim against the current. God knows this, and, while he hears your prayers, he is unable to do anything about them.\"\n\n\"Then fuck Him,\" I slammed my fist on the table, startling the others. \n\n73 smiled sadly, \"We had to try, to minimize the pain that you will cause, like it or not. But, seeing that you are too stubborn to heed our advice, there is only one other option.\"\n\n\"What is it?\" I sighed, the anger fading, replaced with a despondency, a hopelessness.\n\n73 nodded at 35 once again, and 35 brought out a pistol, aimed it at me, and, as he did so, 73 vanished, followed by 62, 55, and on down until 35 was the only one at the table with me. I stared down the barrel, stared into the darkness, and then there was no more. \n\n", "\"How many times has he done this now?\" It's a question I always asked, I don't know why but I always ask it. Ever since this crazy damn technology was created this one guy has always shown up on a near monthly basis. \n\"I think this is the 12th time. We have to cut him off after this otherwise it's really going to screw up his timeline. his brain will literally turn to mush.\" But Berry wasn't concerned, my \"co-pilot\", this was just a 9-5 to him. He was good at what he did though. Able to pick the best prevs, quick to implant the change, then wipe the precise memories of the session. However at session 12 with this guy...even Berry was starting to have doubts he could maintain this guys timeline. Thank god he wasn't anyone important.\n\n\"Alright file number 5632-A.\" Berry read from the chart, \"subject name: Ctrlspeak\" Berry sighed as he read out the name, he held his hand over the mic and leaned to me \"These old fools and their reddit names. I really wish that damn site never existed.\" \"lets just get on with it\" I said.\n\nCtrlspeak sat down in chair 10. Automatically the Time Rings began to circle around him. Berry pulled up Ctrlspeak's Timeline on his console to find 9 pervious versions of this guy. Ones that would directly effect whatever he wanted changed in his life. \"Got 'em\" said Berry \"engage the paradox shields, I have a feeling this one might get a bit messy.\" Thank the maker for Paradox shields. especially after all the sessions this redditor has gone through. We usually have a rough idea of the topic of discussion and we knew that whatever the outcome would be in the previous timelines that it would instantly change Ctrlspeaks 10th version of himself. The shields would prevent anything from happening outside of the session circle. Don't ask me how it works, I just work here. I just know it does because I'm not some butterfly-lizardman hybrid right now. \n\nWithin the circle Ctrlspeaks previous versions began to phase into our time. The youngest being him at 14, the oldest 55. the rest were various ages in between. Berry leaned into the mic \"ok sir, we're ready when you are.\" Ctrlspeak nodded towards us in acknowledgement. He looked at his previous versions, who were in a calm state thanks to our time-calm tech, and said \"I really don't like the name Ctrlspeak, but our Karma is just too high to start a new account. what should we do?\" Berry looked at me. \"He paid 1.4million to change his Reddit name?\" I replied \"well his karma is pretty high.\"", "A new invention had swept over the world, a big product made by Apple called the iSelf. It allowed one to communicate with past and future selves. One time use only, and it cost a lot of money. It was spouted as a fantastical product. \n\npublic_compliance had been given one for study purposes. She had signed up to participate in a university study on the affects of this product and was pleased she didn't have to pay anything for using the product. \n\nHer meeting began on a Thursday. \n \nThe first one to enter the conference room was 8 years old. Dressed in a jumper with long blonde braids and ribbons in her hair, her small fingers trailed across the wall as she walked around the room carefully picking a chair at the table. Her eyes were cold and she wasn't smiling.\n\nThe next one to enter was 13, her shirt sleeves pulled down covering her hands. She sat next to the 8 year old and put her head down on the table. Hood pulled up over her blue hair, her chest heaved and she slightly shook against the table, her leg bouncing up and down continuously. \n\nA couple minutes later the 22 year old crept in. Wearing pj bottoms and a dirty tee shirt. Pink fading in her blonde hair. Avoiding eye contact with the other two she sat as far away from them as possible. \n\nThe three of them sat in silence for half an hour. Sitting uncomfortably in the metal chairs. The 8 year old started to get fidgety by the time the door opened and a 24 year old walked in, looking haggard and dressed in hospital blues. She sat at the head of the table and gave a heavy sigh. \n\nSilence fell upon the room for what felt like forever but was merely seconds. The eight year old began fidgeting more in her chair, clearly becoming antsy. \n\n\"Where did we go wrong?\" The 22 year old looked at her future self. Her gaze falling upon the hospital bracelet she was wearing. \n\n\"Mum came and made me start practicing the violin, she interrupted me!\" The 8 year old bursted out clearly unable to maintain sitting still anymore. \n\n\"It wasn't enough. It wasn't enough. It wasn't enough,\" 13 year old repeated herself rocking back and forth. She shook her head slowly dejected. \"And now I have a 3 year old sister to look out for, I'm scared to leave her alone,\" her voice shook as she drummed her fingers on the table. \n\nThen there was silence. The three individuals looked at the disheveled 22 year old. Waiting expectantly for her answer. \n\nShe shrugged her shoulders and leaned forward onto the table. Placing her hands face down on the table she exposed her heavily scarred left arm, and right hand in a brace. \"Look you two,\" She looks at her younger selves and takes a deep breath \"In the span of one year, we're laid off, mum get's diagnosed with cancer, we get raped, we drop out of university, mum dies, our friends stop talking to us and one of our cats goes missing. I didn't *mean* to fail. But I clearly didn't learn from last time. As it wasn't enough. Again.\" She looked down at her hands and took in a gulp of breath having rushed through her spiel. \n\nThe 24 year old cleared her throat. She looked at her younger selves with pity. \"The medication worked once I saw a better psychiatrist who knew what he was doing.\" She shifted in her chair and continued, \"I wouldn't have failed except that my neighbour found me. I won't fail again.\" She stood up quickly, her chair falling over onto the floor and briskly walks out of the room. \n\nThe three selves remain seated in the room. Waiting for the 5 other future versions to arrive. Dusk settled on the room after a few hours passed, the 8 year old having already left the room out of child-like impatience. The 13 year old and the 22 year old began giving each other uncomfortable glances as realization fell upon them, that no one else would be coming. ", "Charlie stared at Charlie, who he noticed was too preoccupied deriding Charlie to pay any attention to his glares. Charlie sat down and took count. There are nine Charlies at the table, and Charlie paid good money to the Omni Corporation to have nine decades of Charlie brought here, in Charlies house. Well...Charlie's Mansion.\n\nIt was quite an impressive dwelling. Charlie couldn't help but look around, large ornate hallways, full waitstaff, private chef, there's a nice hedge maze outside. Hell, there's even a collection of old Teslas out back, down to the original Roadster. He had it made! What is this meeting even for?!\n\nThe second-from-oldest Charlie stood up. \"Everyone, settle down. We need to, first of all, come up with a naming convention here. We'll go by age. Young boy, you are One. I will be Eight. Our senile friend here will be Nine. Got it?\"\n\nThey all agreed. \"Well then, now that we're all settled, we will go down the row, first with One and last with...with Nine. Tell us what happened. One?\"\n\nA ten year old boy. He looked around the room, confused and scared. He offered the only offering a child can give when caught doing something wrong. Charlie, what did you do wrong? \"I don't know...I want to go home...\" It was the truest answer Charlie would hear that night, but none of the Charlies would listen. Tears began to form in his eyes, the other Charlies forgave him. What could a child know?\n\nTwo was up next. \"This isn't my fault, I mean, I did what was expected of me. I'm at Harvard, I'm getting good grades...I'm on the rowing team, if you ask me I'm doing the best I *could* do. How was I supposed to know? Maybe Three should work harder, you know, not get lazy after landing a job.\" All the Charlies agreed. They'd have done the same thing. One played with his fingers, making shadow puppets against the bookshelves with the light of the fireplace.\n\nThree furrowed his brow. \"I've just made partner before coming here.\" He offered nothing else. \"Should I leave? I don't think so. If you ask me, none of us could see this coming!\" The older Charlies grimaced at the thought. Leave the firm? Look at the fortune it has brought! All facts given, the chances of doing better are slim to none. Still, there was a problem to solve, and nine Charlies to figure it out.\n\nFour sat solemnly, staring at One. \"Well...I've brought you all here, didn't I? If I knew the answer I wouldn't have called this meeting...\" His gaze shifted to his wife, Emma. She leaned against the doorway, eyes closed and arms crossed. The pain was clearly written on her face...what could be done?\n\nFive gave no answer. No amount of prodding could rouse him. He paid more attention to Emma and to Nine than anything else. Charlie gave up hope. It was on to Six.\n\nSix had an answer. He believed he know it. \"Pay more attention to Emma! Your career is set...you've made millions! Two, keep doing what you're doing, Three, don't listen to Mr. Nguyen's suggestions! You'll be better off for it! Four, ma-\"\n\n\"You fucking fools, you blind fucking idiots,\" Emma screamed. \"I'll tell you what, though. You never cease to amaze me. You've found a way to get nine people in one room and managed to ask nobody what went wrong.\"\n\nNine looked up at Emma. \"Emma?\" He smiled.", "The eight versions sat at a large rectangular wooden table. They were arranged from youngest to oldest, four on each side. The room was filled with deafening silence. Every one of them sat there glaring over their left shoulder at the past, and recoiling from the piercing gaze of the future. ", "They all stared at him. Was it because he was the youngest one? Was it because they were all short? \n\"You're all gonna tell me to drink milk, aren't you! Because I never get taller! I won't do it! I don't care if I'm short forever!\" \nThey didn't say anything. \n\"Well if that's not it, what is it with you guys!? \nThe next oldest one put a hand on his shoulder. It was fake. Would he loose his hand in the future? \n\"Listen,\" he said, \"When mom dies, leave her be. There's nothing you can give in exchange for a human life.\" \n\n", "The infant appeared first. A chubby baby, his black hair was just beginning to come in, and I slid my hand over it as I picked him up to rock him. The skinny husky had managed to follow him, and began growling deep in his throat as he looked up at me. I rocked the sleeping babe in my arms and knelt down next to the husky. I extended my left hand out to him, leaving it half-a-foot in front of his pink nose.\n\t\n“It’s me, Perseus. It’s been so long… It’s good to see you.” I said, unsure if I should smile or cry. He took a step toward me, then lifted his head to mine and started licking my face. I laughed and threw my left arm over him, careful to keep the baby steady in the crook of my right arm.\n\n“I don’t believe this.” A shaky baritone said, coming over my right shoulder. I turned, and saw myself walking forward. His face was more scraggly - a side-effect of still experimenting with the facial hair. He was holding out for the demilitarized zone separating his moustache from the rest of his beard to break down, but he was starting to lose faith in ever having a full beard. We wore nearly the same shirt, a pair of blue jeans that sat a little bit looser on his waist, and a pair of converse.\n\n“Welcome.” I said to him, standing and looking pointedly at the baby. I shifted the infant onto my left side, and extended my right hand out to the newcomer. “May not get a chance to do this again. I’m 22.” He took my hand and shook it, a firm hand grasping mine. At my words, his smile fell, and his eyebrows lifted up.\n\n“You mean...we don’t make it to 23?”\n\n“No.” I said, shaking my head. “I just mean I’m 22. I remember you, 21. And this guy here,” I looked back to the babe, “is 0? Maybe 1? Just a babe, to be sure. I don’t know how, but he managed to bring Perseus with him.” At his name, the husky came trotting around me, and 21 fell to his knees, wrapping the dog in his arms, oblivious to the whip-cracks Percy’s tails were making against the floor.\n\n“Daddy?” A small voice called, and I turned to find 3 walking up to me. Just a small thing, old enough to walk and talk. Could he read? I wasn’t sure, but he absolutely contained the same innocence that 1 did.\n\n“No, boy. I’m close, though. Give me a minute, and I’ll explain when you’re - when the others are here.” No sooner had I spoken then 12 and 14 came running up. 12 was sobbing, and ignored everyone as he ran to Perseus. 21 stood up and walked over to me, weighing 12 with his stare.\n\n“Did you pull him from October?” He asked. I nodded, the motion turning my neck into a bobblehead. Subconsciously, 21 took up the motion. “A chance to say goodbye proper?”\n\n“You gotta remember I didn’t know Percy would be here. I suppose with all the talk about being a Guardian, I should have expected it, but…” I trailed off.\n\n“Are you two twins?” 3 asked, tugging on my hand. I looked down at him and smiled, but didn’t answer him. I looked up at 14, who was standing off by his own, staring down at 12 and Perseus. His fists were clenched and he kept blinking his eyes and taking deep, shaky breaths. I turned away, and 21 said hello to 6, who had come running up.\n\n“Hey!” 6 said, looking at 3, “You look a lot like me! Are you my little brother?”\n\n“Nuh-uh!” 3 said, shaking his head emphatically. “I’m an only child!”\n\n“Oh, well do you wanna play tag?” 6 asked, pushing his new glasses up the bridge of his nose. With a nod, 3 pushed on 6 and took off running into the featureless distance.\n\n“Do you know what I’m looking for, 21?” I asked, placing my free hand on the babe’s back and tapping gently. When he didn’t reply, I turned to look at him, but he’d walked away. Perseus was on the floor, his belly up in the air, his belly being rubbed by 12 and the newcomer 18. I kept looking for 21, and found him hugging 14. I quietly walked over, and nodded to 16 as he came to walk beside me.\n\n“What is this?” 16 asked, he looked askance at me, then continued asking questions. “Is this - did I travel time? I remember looking like that…” He said, pointing at 14, who had begun sobbing onto 21’s shoulder. The babe in my arm started to stir, and I rhythmically patted his back. “And over there...No, is that Perseus?”\n\n“It is,” I said, “And this is...something like time travel. It’s all very intricate math and meditation stuff. As for what it is, I hope it’s an answer.” He looked at me, his eyebrows furrowed in my best questioning stare, but I kept silent as we came up to the crying 14 and 21. I heard panting, and turned to see Perseus running up to 14, 12 and 18 trotting at Percy’s heels. 12’s cheeks were wet, but he was smiling. I pulled him aside.\n\n“I’m glad I could give you a chance to show him how much you loved him. I’ll give you another moment when we’re done, but it’s all I can do. I can’t...this place...You’ll take with you the knowledge and the experience, but the pain will still be fresh. Focus on the good memories, okay? They make the emptiness a little less hollow.” He nodded, but he was staring at 14, who was now bawling into Percy’s flank, 14’s arms wrapped around the dog’s neck. Perseus, for his part, was licking at the tears, soaking up all the salt he could get.\n\n“Will it still hurt that much, years from now?” 12 asked, his voice a soft terror beside me.\n\n“No.” I said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “14, well, it’s a rough birthday, and a rough start to high school. The choices in front of you - I’ve had 8 years to look over them, and there’s no winning. You’ll get through it though, and look at how strong you are at 16! You can drive, you know a ton of kung-fu, and well… Junior year’s good to you.” I knelt down, gesturing for him to take a knee as well. His gold-specked eyes locked on mine, and he waited. Had I ever been that patient at 12?\n\n“You need to know. You’re going to be hurt, time and again. Your heart is going to be stomped on, torn out, and pissed on.” He wrinkled his nose at that. “By 18, you’ll think that you’ve experienced every possible way your heart can be hurt, and you’re going to get a really stupid thought into your head.” I said. These words were getting harder to say, staring into those eyes of mine on that young, innocent face.\n\n“You’re going to decide that if you don’t let people in, you’re invincible. If you don’t share, people can’t take advantage. If you don’t trust, you won’t be let down.” As I spoke the words, I felt a presence pushing at the realm, and I laughed as I opened the mental door. Thumper came prancing into the mindscape, and at the site of the large red-and-white furred dog, 3 and 6 ceased playing tag and came running over. Thumper threw his hip against me, his haunches coming up to my belly button as I braced my knee against the ground. I took my hand off 12’s shoulder and absently petted Thumper’s back as the kids came running up to him. 21 looked up, and at the site of Thumper his eyes went wide, and I laughed, remembering the pup that had fit in my hand that first week.\n\n“The thing is 12, we’re going to make a lot of stupid mistakes. We’re going to get hurt, time and time again.” Thumper whined as Percy came over, and I trailed off as the two took stock of each other. Perseus looked him over, then looked to me, and his mouth dropped open into a lolling doggy grin. Thumper lurched forward and nipped at Percy’s front leg, and the two took off running and barking at one another.\n\n“The world’s going to hurt us,” I began again, staring off at the pups playing and rubbing the infant’s back as he settled back into sleep. “But that’s okay. You and me? We’re tough guys. We’ll take the pain and remember it, but we’ll focus on moments like these, okay? We’ll take the bad with the good, and let the bad settle on the bottom of our memories - there, but buried under our happiness. Can you agree to that?”\n\n12 stared at Perseus, running and fighting with Thumper, tears moving down his face again. A hand clapped him on the shoulder, and we both turned to see 14 smiling down at him. 14 locked eyes with 12 and nodded. 12 turned back to me, gold-specked eyes glittering through tears.\n\t\n“Deal.” He said, nodding once.\n\n\t\n", "They stared quietly at 21. \n\nShe looked at the floor. She didn't want 4, 10, 14 or 18 to see their future, nor 32, 46, 55 and 74 to see their past. To see the bruises. The black eye. \n\nWhat went wrong? Ha. She was what had gone wrong. \n\n\"21?\" said a gentle voice, tempered by age and experience. \"21, look at me.\" \n\nIt was 74. She had long silver hair. The tattoos on her arms had become warped and faded. Now they looked like the vines of a great tree that wrapped around her whole body. 21 took her eyes off her own arms, bare of any mark but the cigarette burns, and faced the woman she would one day become. \n\n\"Dear, the topic of this meeting is how to fix it,\" 74 said, calmly. 21's older selves shared a furtive glance. \"You need not fear us. We know what has happened. Moreover, we know what will happen. We knew this time would come, for we are all the woman who sat in your place so many years ago. Now, why don't you discuss some lovely times from the past with your younger selves? We have some business to attend too.\" \n\n21 watched as her older selves arose from their chairs. 32 had a claw hammer. 46 carried plastic sheeting. 55 carried a shovel. \n\n74 carried nothing. No weapon, no tool to clean up the mess afterward. Yet she wore her confidence like a cloak. She wrapped herself in certainty and did not hesitate for a moment as she stepped through the portal that 21 had come from. \n\nThe man who had been screaming \"you bitch you better get back here and take what you fucking deserve\" stopped shouting for a moment when 74 walked in. When 32 walked in there was a dull thud, like a meat tenderizer finding its mark. \n\nThen there were no more sounds but the rustling of 46's plastic sheeting, and the bite of 55's shovel into the earth. ", "The eight glared at the college student. \"this is all your fault\" A slightly overweight man in a (cheap) suit screamed. \"if you had just followed your dream I wouldn't be wasting my life in middle management.\" \n\"leave him alone\" the high school student screamed back, \" Dad is the one who forced him to go into business\". \"for the love of God please shut the fuck up\" the toddler sighed \"I admit it I was the one who screwed up I ate the fucking lead paint\"" ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 6, 11, 12, 14, 45, 64 ]

[ "1411707501", "1411709951", "1411738007", "1411721202", "1411694871", "1411705153", "1411694604", "1411694889", "1411706449", "1411705335", "1411700803", "1411686071" ]

[ "Some weren't a threat to them.\n\nFor example, most bug types were easy to deal with, because many trainers from Johto used Fire-types. Grass types were also the least of our concerns, save for a few trained and evolved ones; Venusaur was probably the hardest, and it only took a hit or two from a strong Typhlosion to beat one.\n\nAs for the people, many trainers evacuated to Johto by several crowded boats. Many of the trainers from Johto were coming to help too while Hoenn and Sinnoh dispatched reinforcements.\n\nFor a few hours, Unova didn't hear about it. However, when Hilbert changed absentmindedly flipped the channel to Kanto News, he almost jumped at what he saw.\n\nGym leaders and even champions were running about, trying to knock out the rebel Pokemon. Policemen from Johto were taking shaking citizens and shocked trainers to safety. Hilbert walked outside and flew his Unfezant to Castelia City from his home in Nuvema to make sure the rest of the region knew.\n\nIn Kalos, as soon as Castelia City News broadcasted the disaster, Calem and Serena had been on a date in Lysandre Cafe. \"Should we tell them, Calem?\" Serena questioned.\n\nCalem sighed. \"How will we help? It's all the way in Kanto, those legendaries aren't-\" He paused, and he gaped at the TV.\n\n\"What is it?\" She looked over at the TV in the cafe as well, her expression matching Calem's as a waiter changed the channel.\n\nMewtwo, the second most powerful Pokemon, was on a rampage, holding two stones; one was dark blue, purple, and silver. The other was pink, purple and silver. On its wrist was a Mega Ring, and Mewtwo started to change. \"How...?\" Calem choked.\n\n\"Hey, Calem...\"\n\n\"Y-Yeah?\"\n\n\"You have Greninja and Mega Absol, and I have Yveltal... shouldn't we get going?\"\n\nHe nodded. \"Let's go. Hopefully the others will realize they should come to. I bet they all have Pokemon that could take on Mewtwo.\"\n\n\"Yeah. Red has Mega Gyrados, I think. Ethan and Lyra have Mega Tyranitar and Mega Houndoom. May and Brendan should both have an Absol. If we're lucky, Dawn and Lucas might have a Darkrai, but one of them probably has a Spiritomb. Hilbert and Hilda might have Krookodile and Hydreigon...\" Serena tore of a bite of her croissant.\n\n\"But with all of that, do they really need our help?\"\n\nSerena paused, then kept on eating. \"I guess you're right.\"\n\n*Meanwhile, in Kanto...*\n\nRed gritted his teeth in frustration. Ethan and Lyra had given up. May and Brendan didn't have an Absol. Dawn and Lucas had gotten Ghost types, which were defeated easily by Mewtwo's Bite. Hilda and Hilbert had been assaulted directly. Red himself didn't have a Mega Ring.\n\nIf only the heroes of Kalos were there with Yveltal and Mega Absol to help. Maybe he wouldn't be forced to watch his region and some of Johto be crushed by a single Pokemon.", "In other news the Kanto is experiencing a massive orgy after a single resident told another that all those Pokemons turned him on, the other residents first denied similar feelings but later agreed.\n\nWhen pokemons were asked what they though of the turn of events they replied \"squirtle squirle squirtllleee\".\n\nThis was Hoenn radio news signing off." ]

[ 1, 3 ]

[ "1411756628", "1411747635" ]

[ "Head of the National Language Police Department Christina Sunveil looked out over her assembled men and women with a stare that, if poetic freedom was something she had condoned, shot daggers.\n\n\"So, what you are telling me, is that no-one here knows the definition of the word irony?!\" Christina growled.\n\nShe was met with silence and some embarrassed shuffling. \n\n\"We are the bloody Language Police! We´re supposed to know the meaning of words! How on earth are we supposed to do our jobs if we don´t know the meaning of words?!\"\n\nIf shuffling feet were an Olympic sport her department would at least be of use for something.\n\n\"Is any of you going to give me an explanation? What about you George?\"\n\nDeer in the headlights wasn´t a good enough comparison for George´s facial expression. \n\n\"Umm, well you see Chief, eeeh...\" He trailed off.\n\n\"Oh pull yourself together man. Neither \"umm\", nor \"eeeh\" are words contrary to \"irony\". Now give me an answer!\"\n\n\"Well I´m not sure it´s my responsibility really. You see, I thought it was Janice´s area.\"\n\n\"And I was quite convinced it was Ali´s.\" Janice said, jumping as soon as her name was mentioned. \n\n\"Nonono, don´t go putting the blame on me. I´ve only been working here for six months, how am I supposed to know?\" Ali retorted.\n\n\"Ok, shut up the lot of you! I´m sick of hearing you blame each other. The fact remains that none of you know the meaning of the word. May I ask how you deal with a situation where you hear someone use \"irony\" in a sentence?\"\n\nGeorge cleared his throat. \n\n\"The thing is, we´re quite convinced most of the public has trouble using the word correctly. So if someone was to say \"Wow, that´s what I call irony!\" our action would be to inform the person that they are using the word incorrectly.\"\n\n\"But you don´t know if they are using it correctly or not if you don´t know what it means?\"\n\n\"No, but we can correct them using a technique we call \"the Politician\". What one does is you simply state some vague rules that may or may not have anything to do with irony and then you just tell the supposed offender that we´ll let it slide this time.\"\n\n \"That´s ridiculous! That´s not doing your job properly. We can´t have police going around making up the definition of a word and then saying that they will let the transgression pass? What´s the point of this department if you don´t know your own language?\"\n\nAli mumbled something inaudible.\n\n\"Excuse me?! Do speak up!\" Christina´s growl had turned into a fully fledged roar. \n\n\"I was asking if you could tell us the definition. As we can´t go around not knowing it.\"\n\nChristina shut her mouth. Then she opened it again. \n\n\"Weeeeell irony is when something is ironic, which has it´s base in the word iron meaning metallic...\"\n\n\"You don´t know either do you, Chief?\" George said carefully.\n\nThe whole room grew even more silent than before, which may or may not have been possible considering the lack of sound that hade already covered the room. After what felt like a few very long seconds Christina cleared her throat.\n\n\"Have you checked the archives?\"\n\n\"Yup. Nothing useful in them. Only a note left by the archivist at the time stating that he would return to the word when he knew the proper meaning.\" Janice replied.\n\n\"I suppose there´s nothing we can really do then. I think it were best if we all didn´t speak of this again.\" \n\nShe was met by a bout of enthusiastic nodding.\n\n\"Alright then, don´t just stand here then, there´s work to be done. There´s texts to be checked for incorrect \"its\" and people to fine for using idioms incorrectly. We better get at it, the country isn´t going to stay grammatically correct on it´s own.\"\n", "\"Shit boss, we got a 419 down at East St Lawrence Street.\" \n\nVerdkinski was already packing her folders and notepads into her travel bag and checking her gun. I looked at her askew \"You mean we *have* a 419?\" \n\nShe looked over, suddenly worried. \"Sure, sure, just pulling your tail.\" \n\n\"My *leg*, you pull someone's *leg*, that's the correct phrase Verdkinski.\" This was only her third day on the job and I was worried. Here in St Louis we only had a small team and we needed top people, we couldn't nurse this rookie along and if she wasn't the right material we needed to know now. \n\nI pushed my worries aside, maybe she was just teasing, maybe she just had a quirky sense of humour. I could admit that my own sense of humour died the day I was made Chief of the Language Police, or 'Chief Pedant' as Mary had always teased me. I grabbed my trusty .45, strapped on my backup piece, strapped my twin knives to my back and picking up my trusty sawn off shotgun, we finally made for the car. \n\nWe wailed through the streets, carving a path through the early morning traffic, at last arriving at the newspaper stand, where I could see the flashing lights already gathered. \n\nParking outside the cordon we pushed through the crowd. Jones was on line duty and lifted the rope. Inside I could see Smitty had the perp held down, face on the pavement, I could rely on Smitty. \n\nVerdkinski went straight for the action but I held back, I liked to watch my team work. She approached the small newspaper kiosk and pulled her camera from her bag, photographing all around carefully. Finally satisfied she moved in closer and examined directly. \n\nOff to my left I heard a distinctive snap of a bone breaking; Smitty wanted answers from the Vendor and it seemed he'd turned to arm snapping to get them. I didn't mind. A keening wail went out over the noise of the crowd, which was cut off sharply as Smitty introduced face to concrete again. \n\nVerdkinski had closed in now and was dusting for prints, she'd had long enough and I moved up next to her. \n\n\"Report.\" I kept my voice clipped and level, what I could see made the bile rise in my throat, but I kept it down. \n\n\"It's an apostrophe Boss, just as the called described. The fuck would there be an apostrophe here?\" \n\nShe gestured to the sign, chalk on a backboard, still smudged with fingerprints. ***Cold Drinks'***\n\nSmitty drifted over to stand behind me, casually wiping the blood from his hands onto his department windbreaker. He spat in disgust, the glob of phlegm soaring over the rope and out of the scene. \n\n“It’s disgusting, a man like that. A clear 419 and it’s ironic, he’s barely literate too.” \n\nI shot him a look in puzzlement and then glanced at Verdkinski, who was nodding along. \n\nI tried to make sense of what he’d said “It’s ironic as a man who can’t spell got the apostrophe wrong?” \n\nHe looked at me puzzled “Well, yeah and also because he used chalk, so it would be easily fixable”. \n\nVerdkinski laughed “Good one.” \n\nI slowly backed away, keeping them to my front. The shotgun was in the car, it was nearly 40 feet away. Too far. I reached under my jacket and slipped my .45 out of its holster. Pulling it free I fired a warning shot in the air. \n\n“BACK THE FUCK UP AND GET DOWN ON THE GROUND!” I screamed at my once colleagues. They looked at me startled and the slow light of realisation drifted over Smitty’s face. \n\n“Now come on boss, let’s not be too hasty here.” He took a step towards me and I plugged him, through the left eye. The crowd who had been trying to leave in a hurry since the first shot, now fled the scene in a screaming mob. \n\nVerdkinski had turned and her hand was creeping towards her belt. “Don’t do it.” I called, trying to make my voice as gentle as possible. To my right I could see Jones, he’d moved round to flank her. Good Jones, keep her in your line of sight, I mentally urged. \n\nShe moved first but I was quicker, before her gun was even out, I had two in her chest and she was down. I knew she wore armour and so I was over and on top of her fast. She was winded and looked up at me, fear in her eyes. \n\nI smiled, tonight the force would be two scum bags better off. I squeezed the trigger and put two through her brain. \n" ]

[ 5, 9 ]

[ "1411821857", "1411818053" ]

[ "Despite all the scientists, quantum theorists and even Hot Tub Time Machine, Edgar had perfected time-travel. He carefully placed the final flux capacitor and took a seat, now he could finally go back in time and make Julie fall for him.\n\n“Fire it up!” he called to the most dismissive of characters that quickly and mindlessly obliged his order. A kaleidoscope of lightening, darkness and, of all things, penguins filled his vision as he was transported thirty years into the past. When he awoke, Edgar sat in a lobby with eight young boys, who looked rather familiar, and an old man who, the smell of would suggest, had urinated on himself.\n\n“Geoffrey! We got another one!” Shrieked a woman that if Edgar had to describe would be the largest he had ever seen. She then told him something about staying calm and a sandwich. Perhaps he made the sandwich bit up, he had not taken into account the preservation of stomach law he had instituted upon himself in college.\n\n“Now, with a show of hands, which one of you is Edgar?” Edgar raised his hand and so did everyone else in the room, save the old man. “Edgar Welford?” all the hands remained up. “Edgar Collins Welford of Whales?” One boy’s hand quivered, but in the end stayed up, much as Edgar’s did. “I thought so…”\n\n“Geoffrey,” the woman whispered in a way that everyone in the room could hear her, “the old one too, he took the long way.” The old man seemed to border on what could have been a thought but instead decided to drool on his trousers.\n\n“Right,” started the man Edgar assumed to be Geoffrey, “so let me briefly explain why you are all here. Each and every one of you is undoubtedly and irreversibly, an asshole. That’s right an asshole. You are the one person in all of the space-time-continuum, that we are aware of, who has achieved time travel. That being said, it seems that time is actually more of the issue here. You, and I mean that in every sense possible, achieved time-travel for what? Some broad named Julie. Well guess what folks? Julie doesn’t exist yet. Perplexed? You, when was Julie born?” Geoffrey points at one of the boys arbitrarily.\n\n“Oh, umm, June twenty-second, nineteen-ninety.”\n\n“Correct! Do you know what year it is? No you don’t, but let me tell you, it’s nineteen-eighty-six!” It was at this moment Edgar (the original, or O.G. Edgar) raised his hand to which Geoffrey looked at rather quizzically.\n\n“So what is this place?” O.G. Edgar asked.\n“Glad you asked, this is a state-of-the-art government funded lobby. Why does it exist? Because you, and every version of you, seems to be hell bent on changing the past. We can’t simply go into the future and slap some sense into you, because that would be WRONG, so we built this place to welcome you when you inevitably arrive.”\n\n“So what are you going to do with us?” another boy from the choir asked.\n\n“From here you will go to a secret facility were we are housing all the other versions of yourself. Once there we hope you will collaborate with all the other versions of yourself and build a time machine that sends you back where you came from.” After a few more words from Geoffrey the Edgars were sent from the room to the alleged secret laboratory. All of the Edgars wondered how secret it was, but all of them thought better of actually asking. \n\n“Is there one of us native to this time that I can at least tell about Julie.” Geoffrey gave him a glance that made O.G. Edgar wish he hadn’t asked.\n\n“There is an Edgar native to our time, but he has been sent to a private art school where there is no Julie, time-travel or any other nonsense for him to stick his nose in.”\n", "Journal entry of Ascii Faceman Ph. D Theoretical Physics - D.O.D Flashpoint Project \nSeptember 28th, 2:36AM 2114. \n\nHeat. It is a problem.\n\nFor a hundred years we have had our best scientists working on the problem. The more people you pack on to a planet, the more heat you generate. Also, the more temporal rifts you open into a universe, the more heat is released into it. The creation of matter, a theoretical impossibility. Eventually, it passes a limit that the planet, or universe for that matter, can handle. A hundred years ago the first traveler appeared. Since then there have been billions. \n\nAs it turns out, each one was from a distinctly different variant of our own timeline. Every possible different movement made by every existing quark had spawned a different independent universe. Each one had spawned time travel except for ours; no *As it turns out*, ours is the dump.\n\nWe had no reference for time travel, it was a joke, a science fiction story. When they began appearing, sometimes a dozen and then later millions at a time, all we could do was try and pick their brains and then cryogenically freeze them for mass storage (I mean seriously, what else would we do with billions of extra humans?). Unfortunately, nobody sends scientists on a maiden time travel voyage. The people sent to us had no concept of the technology used to do so. Each one showed up just as surprised as we were, that they were in not only a different time but a whole different universe to begin with.\n\nSome use devices that stay at their origin, some arrive with the devices attached to them. When we attempt to use the device that is sent with them, it copies the person trying to use it. We have theorized that those from the other universes are still there also, and just a copy was sent to us. For all we know, they consider that project a failure and move on to a working technology.\n\nHold on, one just showed up in my room... ", "Evan woke up to discover that his alarm clock had been replaced by a sheep, again. \n\nHe groaned. His head hurt. He was pretty sure yesterday he'd been run over by a truck. \n\nHe staggered downstairs to the kitchen, where pancakes and a warm coffee were already prepared and set out on the table. Evan was relaxing on the rolling chair, curled up in the weird way he preferred to sit, reading the newspaper upside down. \n\n\"Hey,\" he said. \"Evan made pancakes. Wasn't that nice of him? He's gone back to the Paleolothic to scrounge up supplies.\" \n\nEvan looked back at the table, but the pancakes had been replaced with sheep. \n\nDamn time paradoxes. \n\nHe wandered over to the hallway closet to see if there was anything else to eat. Twinkies. Eurgh. But he grabbed several anyway. And contemplated the problem of infinity. \n\nThe problem was, there were infinite realities. The problem was, they all led into this one. The problem was, *this* reality had only finite resources. At some point, eventually, logic dictated that they were going to run out of resources. \n\nOf course logic was not the strong point of a world infested with more time paradoxes than cockroaches. So that, even though the world should have starved to death millenia ago, here it was, ticking away, on a seemingly infinite supply of paradoxical sheep and smuggled goods from the age of dinosaurs. \n\nThis was all great fun for the time travelers. There was an ongoing competition to arrive a few fractions of a second earlier and kill Hitler, the most murdered man in history (featured twice and interviewed four times about his record breaking mortality in TIME magazine). There were constant expeditions to different time periods in history, from the big bang to the heat death of the universe. Technology from the year 999999999999999 had been found forming anachronisms as far back as the Hadeon eon, although it was widely assumed that there were more anachronisms further back. \n\nTime travelers, after all, were all a bit crazy. It was actually a prerequisite, across the entire multiverse. A certain amount of crazy. So they were happy, in this messed up, psychotic time stream. \n\nThey were happy. Evan was not. His mother (also his sister and granddaughter) and his father (a distant second cousin, an imaginary friend, and every one of his exes) had conceived and given birth to Evan locally. He wasn't a time traveler, a fact made somehow even more terrible by Evan being, statistically, the third most common name for successful time travelers. He'd never visited any of the places everyone kept gabbling gleefully on about, and he could never time leap a time paradox headache away. No, he had to live with the mess everyone else made, and it was killing him, daily. \n\nHe wanted to apply to the department of temporal euthanasia. He'd been trying to for a year now. \n\nHe walked outside and was run over by a truck. " ]

[ 3, 3, 16 ]

[ "1411877223", "1411897097", "1411876091" ]

[ "Lissy was sitting at her desk. She was alone in detention again, but she already knew the drill; this would not make it onto her academic record. Mr B walked in and shut the door behind him. After a few silent moments of mutual understanding, Mr B leant against the desk and unwrapped his twinky. Lissy moved towards him unbuttoning the top few buttons of her shirt and began to suck on the larger than average twinky. This continued until Lissy had sucked all the cream out of the twinky; with a smug laugh she turned away from Mr B. Suddenly Mr B spoke up, he implied that he wanted to put his twinky in her microwave. This caught Lissy of guard; she hadn't used her microwave yet, she wasn't sure how big it was and what the recommended heating times were. Mr B assured her that it would be OK as he grabbed her buns.\n\nLissy was a bit unsure of what happened next, she was laying on the desk, Mr B was licking her jelly bean and telling her how good it tasted. She began to feel a warm tingly sensation run up and down her body; like popping candy but better. Mr B gently nibbled her jelly bean. Lissy's coke can exploded. Wiping his mouth Mr B stood over her and pushed his twinky in and out of her microwave. It was a bit small but Mr B didn't care. He kept going till his twinky lost it's cream a second time, ignoring Lissy's moaning. Needless to say, Lissy's microwave serviced the staff room lots over her 3 year course.", "It was Frankies first day on the job. He was excited. He was the newest member of the team. It was a typical government job. Everyone just stood around with their hands in their pockets while one *lucky* idiot got to do all the work. He was down in the hole, sweating and cursing. He said she liked it when he talked dirty to her. He was straining hard. I thought he'd pop a blood vessel. I was mesmerized by the way the blood vessel throbbed at his temple. It wasn't long till I was called in to help. \n\nI'd never slid into a hole with another man before, but I was cool with it. I was smaller than he was. Together, we tore that girl a new one--literally. We pulled to hard and broke the coupler. Sewage shot out of the pipe and filled the hole we were in. If not for the rest of the crew pulling us out of the man hole, we'd have probably drowned in crap.\n\nAnd that was my first day on the job. The guys called it my first gangbang. It was really dirty and the smell was attrocious.", "He liked to ride so often, he had a commuter pass. \n\nThe transaction was always the same, he arrived and donned his gear. He would climb the peak, and at the top plant his flag. The trek down always daunting with the exhaustion of the climb weighing on him. At the bottom of the slopes, he would indulge himself in the local tradition of eating a plate of meat with his hands behind his back. It was always a thrill. \n\nHe paid her $150 and left.", "She had only heels on. She knows I love when she comes to bed like that. She walked over seductively and asked, \"Are you ready?\". I just nodded my head. She crawled under the blanket hand slowly caressing my thigh. She settled in the nook of my arm and laid their, her hand slowly rising up my leg. She got to her destination and did a quick squeeze while whispering, \"Oh, hello there.\" We began to passionately kiss while our hands explored each others bodies. She told me she couldn't take it anymore and jumped on top of me. She rode me like it was a rodeo, and let me tell you that bronco was a buckin'. We then proceeded to do the deed in a few other animal oriented positions, and even some career oriented positions. We were at for hours upon hours until we finally finished, her third, my first. Went down to grab us something to drink and when I came back up she was waiting for me on all fours. No time to waste, I just got back on that ride like a fast pass at Disney World. We went around loops and corkscrews, she was screaming obscene words and whispering sexual nothings into my ear while I was pumping away like a self serve gas station. We tried things we never did before, we ended up tangled up like a pretzel while still managing to be connected. As time started to come to a close I could feel the explosion rising. I sat back a little further than usual and began to jerk harder than bodybuilders in a weightlifting competition. The end result ended up on her face, and she smiled at me as she wiped it off and told me she loved. Then our kids came barging in asking why Mommy and Daddy were all sweaty and we told them Mommy was practicing for the rodeo and Daddy was practicing for his weightlifting competition. The kids replied, \"But you guys have never done any of that stuff\"." ]

[ 2, 3, 11, 13 ]

[ "1411904763", "1411900676", "1411897978", "1411897158" ]

[ "That day it rained. \n \nThough just a drizzle it had been scheduled to hydrate the various plant life following the 4th. We thought the system worked back then, with the invention of the orbital meteotron things had become so much simpler. You see, groups of various high rollers with armies of meteorologists at the employ would bid for the honor or scheduling the next months weather. Of course every country wanted a citizen of theirs to win, it would mean their holidays would be clear and beautiful without fail. There was no more planning contingencies around the unpredictable will of mother nature. No more tropical storms leaving coastal towns devastated or unfortunate droughts leaving farm land barren. And the best of it was, all the proceeds went directly to various charities. \n \nTo anyone listening to this, any traveler from a far away world... This is our story and how everything went wrong. By the time you will have found this all life will be gone from our planet. I leave this to stand testament to our hubris and serve as a warning. \n \nThe bidding started as it had many times before. The world tuned in on the 5th of this fateful July day to find Mr.J.R.Moneypockets putting in an early bid. As always he would start low, 2.5 million, a mere 500 thousand over the starting price. Though Moneypockets was no cheapskate, he had won several times going as high as 6 trillion on several occasions (forcing everyone else to have an absolutely beautiful Boxing Day in the process). \n \nObviously such an honor wouldn't be pawned off for such a pittance. Mary Elizabeth Renée Afluentworthe the thirds voice was the next to echo out over the hallowed halls in which they held the bid. \n\"Tisk Tick\", she sneared, \"Showing off again with the first bid, I see. Well I'll have you know, I will not be outdone. 2 Billion to start.\" \n \nI could just hear the boos of millions, the one time Mrs.Mary had won the bid she had picked some stupid tiny country whos holidays to celebrate. And it just so happened that 'Howamungaba Day' (Read: Blistering freaking heat day) fell in December. \n \n\"We all know, that should either of these fools win the bid...\", a voice uttered from behind a curtain before pausing, \"That we'll see not a hint of snow for at least another four months\". The curtain flew open suddenly to reveal none else but Johnny Snow (Duh), his lips curved up he continued. \"10 Billion, and we can put this cursed sun business behind us\". \n \nMary chimed in \"The only one we can say is a fool, for certain, is you my dear man. You may have been clever for using snow to stop the Ghost Nazis back in '2367 but stopping ghost Nazis is about all that snow is good for\". And with a smug look upon her face she bid 30 billion. \n \n\"I have to agree with Mary on this one, though I since I can't say she'd make much better use of the weather, 100 Billion\" Moneypockets retorted. \n \n\"Achtung baby!\" yet another voice cried from behind another curtain. As the silken drape swung open we find it's none other than Klavier Gavin from Phoenix Wright 4! \"It looks like\" he pauses before spending several seconds playing on an air guitar no one can actually hear, \"We're in for some moderately temperate weather this month! I bid 230 billion\". \n \nTo this Johnny Snow just laughed \"You need to...\" the world cringed in preparation as he had made this joke for the last four months running \"Let it go! Cause I cant't turn back anymore\". No one was amused, as he raised the stakes to 300 Billion.\n \n\"400 Billion\" another voice rang out, only to be shown up a second later. \"450 billion\", \"500 billion\", \"800\", it continued like this for nearly two hours before it happened. \n \nJust as Mr.Moneypockets was about to deal the finishing blow a curtain, from a bidder who has previously kept silent flew open. His face was covered by a mask not unlike one you'd find at masquerade ball. His voice deep and smooth, spoke out with confidence. \n \n\"12 Trillion dollars, and not a cent more\". The hall broke out in utter chaos, in a state of absolute shock Moneybags tried overthrow the bid but forgot to raise his sign. The auctioneer counted down and it was done. The man walked up to the stage where the machine resided and from his pocket took a small device. The machine took the device inside itself and the world looked on to see the next months weather. DOUBLE RAINBOWS EVERY SINGLE DAY. \n \nThe man threw the mask from his face to reveal a great /b/ written across his forehead in marker. The governments of the world panicked, but it was too late, our fate was sealed the moment the machine was built without a single safeguard or abortion mechanism. The torrential rains that followed did so without end, until our crops had drowned and our homes flooded. Even now, we try to pick up the pieces of our shattered life but we know now there is nothing we can do. Soon the last of us will starve, and all that will remain is this message. So I implore you, please, never let 4chan decide your weather. \n \nEdit: Most problems should be gone. Written on mobile so it's a bit sloppy.", "At the podium, the announcer was now sweating visibly. The temperature in the room had been rising steadily through the auction. The price was at fifty grand already and rising for the month of August.\n\nWay out of our price range, as usual. NBC, and by extension, the weather channel would probably take this one again, and contract out the actual weather events. It had won the last ten auctions. It was really a formality at this point.\n\nIt's tough belonging to an out-of-favor pantheon these days. I was mentally preparing to go toady up to the NBC rep in his slick suit. Try and maybe get a few thunderstorms somewhere in the midwest. The big guy really likes the midwest.\n\nThat was when my companion stood up. Oh no.\n\n**\"I, THOR, GOD OF THUNDER WILL TAKE THE BID\"**\n\nOh gods. People were looking at us. I tried to sink lower into my chair and began tugging at the big guy's furs.\n\n\"Listen, Thor, we don't have the cash for-\"\n\n**\"NO. I WANT THIS ONE! IT SHALL BE....FUN.\"**\n\nThe announcer cut in at this point.\n\n\"O-Okay, we have fifty thou, fifty thou, do I hear fifty-five? Fifty-five? Yes! You sir, I have fifty-five, do I hear sixty?\"\n\nThe NBC rep had raised his little number, thank gods. We *really* didn't have fifty grand. I pulled desperately at Thor's chain mail, trying to get him to sit down.\n\n\"Going once-\"\n\n**\"IS THAT THE MAN? I CHALLENGE HIM FOR IT!\"**\n\nI knew I shouldn't have bought him along. He just couldn't understand why I came home each month without the weather rights. He insisted. It's difficult to argue with an eight foot tall viking with a hammer.\n\n\"Thor, you can't challenge him. He's buying it, fair is fair...\"\n\n**\"I CAN TOO. I AM THOR, SON OF ODIN, AND I WILL CHALLENGE YOU, FOUL BUREAUCRAT FOR THE RIGHTS TO THE MONTH OF AUGUST!\"**\n\nThe announcer had stopped talking at this point. Everyone in the room had turned to look at us. Everyone but that rep. He just sat in his chair, playing a game on his phone. He looked bored.\n\n\"And....sold for fifty-five thousand,\" the poor announcer squeaked.\n\n**\"NO IT IS NOT. I SHALL FIGHT HIS CLAIM. HE SHALL TASTE MY HAMMER!\"**\n\n\"Wow, okay Thor, I mean, *phrasing*, really. Please sit down. We lost the bid. What are you gonna do with a whole month anyway?\"\n\nSecurity was moving towards us at this point. They had wisely put away the tasers and were moving for the pepper spray. Great. Just great.\n\n**\"THERE WOULD BE THUNDERSTORMS UPON EACH DAY, AS IS PROPER. AND HEAVY CLOUDS. I *LIKE* HEAVY CLOUDS.\"**\n\n\"Yeah, that's great. Listen, you realize this is why nobody worships us anymore, right? But please sit down. Security is going to throw us out, Thor....\"\n\n**\"LET THEM TRY! THEY TOO SHALL TASTE OF MY HAMMER-\"**\n\n\"*Phrasing*\"\n\n**\"AND I SHALL RAIN SUCH FURY DOWN UPON THEM AS HAS NEVER BEEN KNOWN BY MORTAL MAN SINCE THE HEADY DAYS OF-\"**\n\nAt this point, unnoticed by myself or my companion, one of the security guards had gotten close enough for a clear shot at the giant bearded viking. I have to give him credit. That guy maced the *shit* out of him. I mean, it takes balls to pepper spray the god of thunder.\n\n**\"MY EYES! WHAT IS THIS MORTAL SOURCERY?! IT BURNS LIKE THE FIRES OF RAGNAROK!\"**\n\nI was already walking out of the room. I'd explain to the Allfather later. I was pursuing the rep from NBC, who had sighed and walked out while the moron was being pepper sprayed by James the Security Guard. With luck, I could pretend like I wasn't with Thor. Maybe pull a deal out of this yet." ]

[ 1, 4 ]

[ "1411943218", "1411934081" ]

[ "I smiled to myself.\n\nI knew she could do it. If anybody could, she could. It was only natural.\n\nIt was bittersweet, though. Time works different here. It was more intuitive. She would devote four centuries to researching increasingly bizarre quantum mathematics. The day she turned on the device, I smiled to myself again. All of the universe was converging on a point. A new gravitational center of reality.\n\nI don't remember how I ended up naked in a field in Iowa. I opened my eyes, took a breath, and coughed. She walked up behind me. I knew it was her, from the vanilla scent in her hair. I closed my eyes, as her arms wrapped around my chest. I took in the sweetness of her as she laid her head on my shoulder.\n\nThere was a pinch, then a wave of pain, as the blade slid into my chest.\n\nI slumped to the ground, my legs no longer able to support me.\n\nMy breaths were ragged, and I could taste metal.\n\nShe walked around in front of me, holding the blade she'd killed me with. Some new technology that slid through my ribcage like butter. Not like last time. Last time it took nine, before she was satisfied.\n\nI was a little worried how many times we could do this, but the look on my love's face told me it was going to be a long eternity.\n\n\"Next time,\" she whispered to me. \"You have a thirty second head start.\"", "\"Ya know, if he wanted to get away from me that badly, he could've just filed for divorce.\" I bit bitterly as Ted celebrated, popping champagne and cheering with the whole office.\n\nGlynda, my Guardian Angel, laid a consoling hand on my shoulder. \"Is that how you truly feel? Angry that you may not see him?\"\n\nI exploded. \"Of course! Here I am moseying about and keeping an eye on him, and he's gone and invented immortality! Now I might not see him for several centuries at least! Why isn't he thinking about me?!\"\n\nGlynda raised an eyebrow. \"Well, Mr. Mopey, he thinks you're dead and has no idea you can still watch him.\" She gestured to Ted, doing a jello shot off a coworkers belly button. \"Even now, he still thinks of you.\"\n\nI turn red from rage. \"All he's thought about is work! He hasn't visited my grave since the funeral, he hasn't spoken a word to me! Just work, drugs and parties! He's neglected everything!\" I grew quiet. \"He's neglected me.\"\n\nGlynda sighed. \"Watch, dear Mark.\"\n\nI shook my head. \"I don't want to.\"\n\n\"You must.\" She murmured quietly. So we watched. Ted cheered and danced and partied. He burned down two joints and drank a pitcher by himself. His dancing went on for hours, his tie waving about like a flag on a ship, tossing in a tempest of booze and beats. His energy was almost manic.\n\nThen, as suddenly as he came onto the floor, he left. He made his way to the roof of the office building, staring at the moon. A cigarette dangled from his lips, unlit. He adjusted his sweat soaked tie.\n\n\"Hey Mark.\" He began. My breath hitched in my throat. \"Sorry I haven't talked to ya in the past few years. I've been. . . busy.\" Ted chuckled. He lit his cigarette and took a drag.\n\n\"When. . . When you died, I didn't really know how to think anymore. Everytime I went into my head, all I saw was you. Bent over the stove for our next meal or kissing me. And I never wanted to leave. But. . . \" Ted shuddered. \"You shouldn't have died, Mark. And it shouldn't have been a fucking mistake of mutation. You were perfectly healthy. We should've died together.\"\n\nThe cigarette burned red. Ted sighed. \"So I guess I got carried away. Looking for a cure to cancer was one step, and I jumped up nine to immortality. Or, at least a hugely extended lifespan. We'll need human trials to support it.\"\n\nTed snorted. \"But, now at least no one will have to go through what I went through. What you went through. Watching you wither was. . . devastating. And now I know there was something I could've done.\" Tears streamed down Ted's face. \"If only I was faster, I could've saved you. I could still hold you, here. Mark. . .\" Ted broke down, falling to his knees. He wept on the roof.\n\nI cried with him. Ted, you stupid bastard. You stupid, beautiful man-\n\nTed pulled out a knife. \n\n\"I don't want to ruin the party downstairs,\" Ted choked out. \"So this should mitigate the noise. Sarah can keep the research going. She's smarter than me.\"\n\n\"Ted! TED WHAT THE FUCK!\" I yell. Ted places the tip of the knife against his neck, right on his pulse. \n\nHe smiles. \"See you soon sweetie.\" Ted pushes.\n\n-------------------------------\n\nIt took a few minutes for all my blood to pump out, then the warmth of darkness began to embrace me. Good thing I drank so much booze, or the pain might have made me chicken out.\n\nBut lying here on this roof gives some real perspective. I read once that people who jump off a building instantly regret it the moment their feet leave the roof. And who can blame em? Suicide by jumping is messy and public. Fucking idiots.\n\nHeh. These are my last thoughts. The last thoughts of Ted Far'Oak. At least I left behind a legacy to be proud of. At least I left behind a mark.\n\nAnd it wouldn't have been possible if my Mark hadn't left me. I close my eyes.\n\nThen someone slapped me across the cheek.\n\n\"What the FUCK!\" A voice yelled, angry and hurt. I hadn't heard that voice in over half a decade. I opened my eyes.\n\n\"Mark?\" I said, dumbstruck.\n\nMark slapped me again. \"WHAT THE FUCK!\" He yelled. \"You don't say a fucking thing for five years, then have a huge speech, then kill yourself!? In front of me? ON YOUR OFFICE ROOF!?\" Mark was livid. His fists began colliding with my chest.\n\n\"You stupid, idiotic, motherfucking dumbass! If idiocy had a mascot, it'd be your stupid face!\" Mark cried, punctuating each word with a punch to my chest. \"You could've lived longer! You could've had a damn good life! And you left it over me! You silly shit!\"\n\n\"Mark. . .\" I whispered, dumbfounded as his fists thudded against my chest. The blows grew weaker and weaker as his sobs rose in volume, before he stepped close to me and held me tight, his tears soaking my bruised spirit. I drew my arms around him and held him close.\n\n\"I missed you.\" Mark mumbled into my chest. I squeezed him tighter.\n\n--------------------------------\n\nGlynda watched the pair reunite with neutral eyes. She flipped out a cell phone and dialed three numbers.\n\n\"Hello? Yes, this is Glynda. Currently assigned to the 'Immortal Ted' case. Yes, suicide, just as the AD Division predicted.\" She ran her hand through her hair. \"Yes, the immortality is successful. No, there is no way to stop it, the rules are there for a reason. Sir, I can't bend them no more than you, especially since you made them.\"\n\nGlynda sighed. \"Yes sir, there will have to be some changes. Of course. Right away.\" She flipped her phone shut and pinched her nose. The paperwork on this case was going to be a nightmare." ]

[ 2, 3 ]

[ "1411946761", "1411945539" ]

[ "She, Green Day (2:14)\n\nHe didn't know what he was going to do. You could only chase after a speeding car for so long. Matt was standing in the middle of the road, watching her drive away. It was over for good. Four years worth of fighting, thrown out like trash. They were both screwed up, and that's what made them believe it would work. That they could fix one another. \nRelationships don't work like that, though. They require give and take, not take and take. That's what ended it. Both Matt and Laura always took and took, and hardly ever gave. \nThey started dating in their junior year of high school. They were nominated most likely to get married. Laura convinced Matt to go to the same college has her. She had found an apartment, just big enough for the two of them.\nLiving together was terrible. They butted heads often, neither of them willing to admit they were wrong. \nNot communicating broke them up. Laura thought Matt had cheated, when he actually didn't. By the time he had gotten home from class, she had all her bags in the car and was about to pull away. He tried to stop her. He couldn't. She drove away, with everything they had together. It was all over.", "Earth Shadow, by Deuter (8:42)\n\n“Do you need to be here, Alex?”\n\nRodin was sitting slightly hunched on their chrome and microfiber stool in front of their workstation. Their job was monitoring all of the high-level system operations for the Exosphere Mark 1. If something went wrong, like an air processor not maintaining oxygen levels, a garden layer not getting enough light, or some bolt coming loose in the rotation arm that spun up their artificial gravity… it would pop up on their screen. Until that happened, their background image was the outside view of space, framed on the gradually receding sun.\n\nAlex stretched their arms out as far as they’d go. “Just keeping you company, buddy. For a giant spaceship full of risk-loving, maker-culture, Burning-Man-type party nerds, everybody seems to go to bed real early.”\n\nRodin glanced at the clock on the screen. 3:43am. And the date was…\n\n“Well, if you’re looking for a show, you’re in luck. In a couple minutes we’ll get to see what passes for an eclipse around here. The only one before we take a gravitational slingshot around Mars and hightail it out of the Solar System.”\n\nAlex strolled from Rodin’s left, around their chair and into a position closer to the screen. “You call that a show? A little Earth shadow cast on the Exosphere as she makes her way to the stars? You crewmembers have no flair for drama.”\n\nRodin looked up at Alex. “Leaving a cushy NASA job to play space explorer isn’t dramatic enough for you?” they asked.\n\nAlex smirked. “Yeah, why did you come out here? Wanted to spread a little truth, justice, and the American way to whatever bits of life we can scrounge up in the Andromeda galaxy?”\n\nRodin rubbed their hands into their temples. “Leaving aside everything that’s wrong with that whole question… I guess I always dreamed that humanity would ‘leave the nest.’ It’s kind of crazy to leave all your eggs in one basket when those eggs have thermonuclear warheads.”\n\nAlex looked out at the scene on the monitor. At the current zoom setting, the sun took up most of the screen. The Earth was nudging its way into the sun’s disc, pushing past its border. A rough outline of the Americas and Europe was visible from the uneven blur of city lights. \n\n“It does look fragile, now that you mention it. Wasn’t the U.S. or China funding some big nanotech project that could eat the whole place for breakfast? Or some robot thing?”\n\n“There were allegations of potentially dangerous artificial intelligence projects. They held a session of the expanded U.N. security council, but nothing came out of it one way or the other. I don’t think Russia and India were happy about it, but these things have always tended to blow over.”\n\nAlex shrugged and leaned against the bank of computers. \n\nRodin looked back at the active maintenance reports from the ship. The Exosphere had dozens of sectors, each the size of a small neighborhood, and automatic sensors made sure that everything in them kept running smoothly. \n\nIt was actually a surprisingly robust system, compared to the ships Rodin was used to. Everything was designed to be repaired and replaced as simply as possible. They had configurable manufacturing for tooling parts, and plenty of nuclear power and asteroid mining for energy and raw materials. The politicians who built the thing promised it would keep running for thousands of years; and the population of volunteers living in it was large enough to perpetuate the species.\n\n“So Rodin, what do you do for fun? I never see you in the clubs.”\n\nRodin smiled in spite of themself. “Not everyone can just mess around all the time, some of us have jobs to --”\n\nThe workstation in front of them suddenly blared with warning lights and alarms, messages labeled “urgent” and “priority one” and “emergency override.” They were distress signals, although there were no other ships anywhere outside the Earth’s orbit. The volume of the signals overwhelmed Rodin’s workstation, and the circuit powering the lights in the compartment shorted out. In the dark room, only illuminated by the image of the partially eclipsed sun, the voice components played.\n\n“-- immediate action --”\n\n“-- the United States have --”\n\n“-- overwhelming numbers of --”\n\n“-- scanners indicate that --”\n\n“-- no hope of peaceful --”\n\n“-- dozens of major cities --”\n\nOn the screen, Alex and Rodin saw the near side of the Earth lit up by pockmarks of light. Each brilliant pinprick seemed to bloom from the lesser light of a major city, the pattern flowing in a wave over the west coast of the Americas, and with other lights flaring up haphazardly throughout Europe. Points of light like stars, like novas, bursting into white and then being snuffed out. Fireworks.\n\nAlex stood there, still, over Rodin’s shoulder, while they sat in silence. A full minute passed. Rodin, shaking, pulled Alex’s arm around them. The workstation recovered, and the lights came back on. The messages eventually rolled to stop.", "Don't Look Back into the Sun, The Libertines (3:00)\n\nIt was unusually warm, so we couldn't pass up one last night of gazing at the stars. We decided to go for a special late season session, further away from all the city light pollution at the Hayward Pinnacle. The 4 kilometre hike didn't seem so awful in the daylight, but sunset came much earlier than predicted in the newspaper. We were only three quarters of the way to the pinnacle when darkness fell. \n\nOur pace quickened through the thick forest. Though no words were spoken, we had both decided that the rustling in the bushes beside us was the wind from our rapid jog. The bush started to thin out on the horizon; it looked like the intense darkness of the sky caused the stars to glow brighter, almost as if they were lighting up the trees ahead.\n\nBreaking into a full on sprint we headed towards the clearing. I hadn't run like that in years, yet I was still keeping step with Evan. He darted left over a stump, and I followed a single stride behind him. I figured whatever was out there had less chance catching us if we were together.\n\nEvan started slowing down, I was almost ahead of him when he grabbed my arm. Startled, I turned to see terror take over his face. He was slowly looking upwards. Then something flickered in the corner of my eye, it looked like someone was in a suit made with dim glow sticks. I soon realized we were completely surrounded. \n\nBy now Evan was looking straight up, his neck could have snapped. I grabbed ahold of him, and followed his gaze as a bright light seemed to shoot at us from all directions. He buried his face into mine and said \"Don't look back into the sun.\"\n\nEdit: formatting and to fix song title", "World’s on Fire by The Butterfly Effect (7:04)\n\nI found myself sitting on the hill looking at the horizon somehow. I could see the orange and red flash start to take over the beautiful blue sky. I was calm. The trees and grass swayed ever gently with the wind and the soft sound of leaves was meditative. As I looked down at my hands I clutched a torn piece of paper. It wasn’t whole, but I couldn’t remember who had written it or where I got it from. \n\n\n“I would only forget about you, so that I could fall in love with you all over again”.\n\n\nThat’s when I noticed the couple sitting downhill from me. Side by side arms around each other; their backs towards me becoming a silhouette against the bright horizon. I tried to imagine the love they felt for each other, how they met, the smiles they bought each other. The thought of this bought a smile to my old face. \n\n\nI looked back at the piece of paper, trying to remember something, anything about it. The handwritten writing was not the neatest but it was easily readable. There seemed to be a memory related to it that sat on the end of my tongue, which I tried to reach for but just couldn’t seem to grasp. I had felt calm, but now there was a small yearning replacing that. The sky losing even more of it’s blue colour and the orange red horizon was now the dominant feature. The trees becoming silhouetted and shadows were cast onto the ground, seemingly reaching towards me. I reached into my pockets, hoping that there was another piece of paper but found nothing except lint which I quickly let loose into the wind that had been building up.\n\n\nThe couple below me huddled in closer shielding each other from the wind and keeping each other warm. I stared at them, their heads now touching against each other. Their silhouette becoming one whole shadow against the bright horizon. This piece of paper that I held was significant somehow, but I just could not figure out why. The fact that I had forgotten everything, even why I had come to this hill, seemed to taunt me and this piece of paper was the cause of my now increasing panic. The sky had now lost all it’s blue and was replaced by a fiery red, the clouds causing marvellous oranges and yellows to look like fire in the sky. The wind had picked up causing the trees to nearly bend and the grass and dust was being whipped up and slashed at my skin, the sound rushing past my ears. The shadows along the ground seemed to stretch towards me like long sinewy fingers. I thought that I saw one of the couple try to stand, but the other held them in place. They kept gripping at each other as if they were being pulled apart by an unknown force, I could hear them crying for each other.\n\n\nThe horizon shone white as the wind buffeted everything around it, blasting past like a roar. Trees fell and a wall of dust shot towards me. I gripped with every piece of strength that I could at the piece of paper. It must not leave me. It is the only reason I am here and I have to remember.\n\n\nThe sky was now torchlight white and the wind burnt past, with the sounds of explosions deafening me, but still I could feel the noise within my head. My skin burnt from the intense heat and the dust that whipped at me. The white horizon came rushing forth and soon enveloped the couple downhill from me. I could hear the quick yet final scream they let out. Now it was my turn. I would never remember.\n\n\nI awoke. I stretched out and felt the bed next to me. Empty. Then I felt the paper under my chest. It was whole. I read through it. As I read the final lines I began to sob again.\n\n\nI would only forget about you, so that I could fall in love with you all over again\n\n\nFrom your forever loving wife,\n\nJenny\n", "[Holy Knight-Freedom Call- 229 Words](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ScAea0T2jfY)\n\nThe morning sun gives a crimson hue to the steel armor of the protector of Two Bridges. Before the knight lay the bodies of at least three dozen hellspawn, Behind, the village the knight has sworn to protect. On this day of convergence, the mountain pass has been blocked by this holy guardian. Not a single horror from beyond space was allowed entry.\n\nThe demons will have to wait five more years before their planes rejoin, and that thought gives the knight a chance to remove their helmet and take a few well-deserved breaths. As the steel is pulled away, the knight's red hair falls down her back. \nLady Volla has at last proven that the women of the kingdom of Bloodstone are as capable as the men. The Order of the Celestial Blades will now have to accept membership from men and women.\n\nWould such a thing have been possible had Lady Volla not been born into wealth? More than likely not. But now, that does not matter. The priests are coming to burn the demons' bodies and purify the pass. She can return to her mansion in Two Bridges with the knowledge that women can wield the meteor swords.\n\nShe returns to her home and tells her servants to draw a bath. \"Call me when the Order arrives.\" She sinks into the water, humming happily to herself.\n", "Jeff Broadbent - Shaper Select (1:42)\n\nThe Dawngate opens. \n\nI fall, wearied by the seductive whispers of my curse, urging me to give in and devour all that lies before me. So simple, they urge, so easy it would be to simply let go, and so very swiftly would the end come. But then I remember their faces, my beautiful family, and I gather my resolve, pushing the whispers to the back of my mind.\n\nI rise, and I lift my blade, bearing my burden once more in the hope that this madness will come to an end. I step forward, marching towards the field of battle, hoping, praying that the spirits will aid me in my plight. \n\nI pray, that our victory today may be the one that seals the Dawngate once and for all.\n\nI fall.\nI rise. \nI pray.\n", "(*Death and the Maiden*: string quartet by Schubert, 2nd movement. The theme is 2:12.)\n\nI know you, for all your disguise and your false kind words. You are Death. Before you take me, I wish to say something.\n\nI am the last human. After the catastrophe, humanity banded together into one great city. But still we were not safe; however much people have, some still want it all.\n\nI had broken curfew and was playing in the hills when the bomb exploded. I saw the mushroom cloud, but at six years old I only knew something bad had happened down there. So, I know in my heart that I am the last.\n\nYou are Death, but you are not Death for animals, or you would be overwhelmed. You exist to kill humans.\n\nSo what happens when you have killed the last human? You will have nothing to live for, no way to carry on. If you kill me, there will be the end of your life. *Death, you shall die!*\n\nSo we are two of a kind, you and I. You are my death, and I am yours. Our faces are alike, bony and pale.\n\nI don't *know* that you will die if you kill me. But it will be interesting to find out. Are you brave enough? Or is existence too sweet to gamble away?\n\n*****\n\n(This is a cut-down version of the story I actually wrote. I didn't know how long the full piece was when I wrote the original story, and I felt blowing a 965-word story up to 1347 words would test readers' patience. Perhaps I'll post the original story as a PI!)", "Fallen Leaves - Billy Talent (3:21)\n\nRed and brown leaves fall as I walk down the alley. To me it seems like an eternity in which I have walked it, looking forward, neither stopping nor turning around. I left it all behind me. My family, my friends, basically everything I knew, was familiar with and often even loved. All that, because the thing I loved most was taken away from me. She was beautiful like words cannot describe, she was my soulmate in every perspective imaginable, but all that wasn't enough to keep her by my side. I can remember the day I met her like it was yesterday; time had not been able blur the memory of that day with its slow, but crumbling manner. That memory was strapped to me forever, I couldn't forget what had happened on that faithful night.\nOr how angel-like her laughter sounded to me when I first heard it, not losing any beauty since then. It sounded like the heavenly bells, with a touch just human enough so it could be believed to be. \nIt was so cliché-like, felt like one of those romantic movies, where two people meet and talk all night. It was just like that, but also far more and beyond. We fell in love immediately, and ofter some time and dates, we moved in together, and although we were both scared, it turned out to be the most happy and joyful time of our lives. At least until the diagnosis. Cancer. Within seconds, I could see my whole life coming crumbling down, leaving me with nothing, but an enormous, never-to-be-filled hole inside me. I stood by her side, the whole process of it, slowly seeing the love of my life fade away. Everyone tried to comfort me, to ease my pain, but noone was successful. I left. Now I walk this lonely road, not sure where it's leading, with falling leaves, somehow reminding of past days...\n\n\nThis is the first writing I did on Reddit, I hope you like it :). Also, I'm not a native speaker, so please excuse any faults in language.", "French Montana, Rick Ross, Lil Wayne, 2 Chainz - Marble Floors (3:51)\n\nIt was late at night and I had just woken up. It was completely dark, not a single light was working. I couldn't see anything in my house. I probably hit my head onto a couple walls, all I knew was that it was still chasing me. Completely out of breath, I managed to shove myself into a tight closet. What could have led up to this? I really hope I'm dreaming, though it feels all too real. Maybe I can outrun - no it will definitely catch me. I need help, I need somebody. With my hands shaking violently I shove my hands into my pockets searching for my phone. \"Shit, it's dead.\"\n\nRight then and there I heard it walking around outside the closet and I immediately caught my breath.\n\n^Step. ^^Step. ^^^Step. ^^^^Step. ^^^^^Step.\n\nIt knows where I am. Oh my god. I need to do something.\n\nThe clouds abruptly part away from the moon and outlined the edges of my kitchen. Through the shutters of the closet I see a shape creeping toward me.\n\n^^Step. ^^^Step. ^^^^Step. ^^^^^Step.\n\nI'm going to die. Whether I'm ready or not. However, I really prefer to be ready. I try and force myself to look back on my life. A good childhood, grew up not too spoiled. My rich parents died when I turned 20, and I inherited all of their money. And of course, with lots of money comes a big house. I do miss them - maybe I can meet them in heaven? I thought to myself trying to look toward a bright side of the situation.\n\n^^^Step. ^^^^^Step.\n\nMy mind shifts back to reality. Okay, maybe I could try to fight it, maybe - just maybe - I can kill it. The local power grid suddenly turns on and the room completely lights up.\n\nA dog. A smiling dog just sitting in my kitchen on my marble floors.\n\nI exit the closet and bend down to read it's tag. \"If lost, please return to **********.\" I use my home phone dial the number, \"Hello, I got your bitch tip-toein' on my marble floors.\"", "Lily's theme - Alexandre Desplat (2:30)\n\nHe awoke to the feeling of her hand squeezing his hand. He rubbed his hand to further open his eyelids, he’d been sleeping for only less than an hour. He sat up straight and put his hand to her head which was covered in stained bandages. He smiled at her and tears finally made their way into his eyes. He never felt so relieved in his life.\n\n“Hey…” He waited for a response from her. Just anything and he would be fully satisfied for the rest of the night. She was moving her lips but no sound was being emitted. He put her hand in between his hands and kissed it, almost like his was going to make her feel better.\n\n“It’s okay… Take your time. You’re safe. That’s what’s important right now…” She scanned around the brightly lit room, machines purred in the closed space. She found a clock on the wall. 3:16. She looked around again, what she was looking for wasn’t here. She made another attempt to form speech.\n\n“Where’s James?” \n\nHis look of care and joy faded from his face. He looked away from her to get composure back into himself.\n\n“Rachel… I’m…” He took in a deep breath and focused on her eyes. In her mind, she was pleading with God. She was repeating ‘please’ over and over until she heard it.\n\n“James is gone.” \n", "\"Ode To Sleep\" Twenty-One Pilots\n\nOh how I have missed thee. Let me count how many times I have tried to fall into your loving embrace. To feel the cool pillow across my cheek, to close my eyes and not open them again for another 8 hours. How I miss the long kiss of night and how sassy she is. I miss being on a normal schedule. It’s one of the few times that I feel completely at peace. Last night, my wife told me to take some melatonin. I was tired enough to fall asleep but my brain would not let it come. It would not let me drift off into dreamland. \n\nI’ve had issues my past about this. I would sleep for 20 hours straight and then be up for days. Ambien only gave me periods where I blacked out and did some crazy shit. Laura, my wife, girlfriend at the time, caught me standing on the stove telling the neighborhood that we needed to start a watch for aliens. I was naked and there was no one there. She found it quite amusing and told her friends. I still get mean looks from that Cathy woman, the all-knowing smile, like she had never done anything the same. Did she even know what it was like to go four days without sleep? \n\nI sincerely doubt that tonight is going to be any better. An idea struck. It is only the afternoon maybe I could go take a nap. Just to get a power nap just to take my mind off of this problem again. I head upstairs, take off my shoes and lay against the pillow. The next thing that I know I am dreaming. My dream consists of waking up and finding out that 40 years have passed. I’m an old man, an old man who feels as though he hasn’t lived in 40 years. I go down stairs. There is a new family living in my house. I look at them, the floor creaks and then they look up at me. They are sitting down for a meal. I was going to have those when Laura and I had kids. \n\n“Dad? You’re awake!!” The woman said. \n\nApparently I was a father after all. I wondered where my lovely wife was. Stephanie told me that Laura had passed away a few years ago. She would never leave my side, just in case I woke up. I had been so sleep deprived that my body went into a type of stasis that the medical world had never known. I was breathing on my own but I just couldn’t wake up. I felt awful. Laura wasted her life for me. The only time that she spent away from me was to give birth to Stephanie. Then she came right back to my side, with steph in tow. \n\nI awoke very sweaty. It was the morning. I had slept the night. Laura was next to me looking at me.\n\n“I’m pregnant” she said.\n\n“Let’s name her Stephanie” I said back.\n", "Heavenly Father, Bon Iver (4:02)\n\nWithout a hand to hold, or much in the way of structure, Tory fell fast and hard. Her mother was the first to tell me how the cracks on streets formed, winter's cold expanding the water into hard ice. I had always thought of it as the same wear and tear humans were tolled, the price of living seen through a young boy's eyes as natural and okay and not fixable, just right and oddly peaceful, a balancing force exacted on all of us. Tory knew it before I did, and we spent a day searching for them, these cracks in the now not-so-permanent seeming pavement. It's late september and from experience I can tell that this winter will come early and fall heavy, as if squeezed from a swollen, greying dishrag. The rain falling has already moved on, no longer a summer rain. Everybody's finest blacks have that seeping quality, as if touching them could unleash a torrent of chilled rainwater. Umbrellas only serve to deflect. \nTory moved away from our small town for college, staying in touch through what was at that time the only means possible, letters and the odd phonecall. The friendship we preserved this way was simulated, in a way; it had a certain porcelain quality to it, plastic, a friendship because we were already friends. I had other friends at the college, and obviously I heard stories, as did everybody else. Bagging groceries that december was when I first overheard about Tory, the spiderwebs she left between everything she moved away from and the nexts in her life; the next man, the next bottle. Our letters stopped, then, which was my fault. She called before coming back that summer, but I let it ring. It never came up.\nThe rain has stopped, and people are hugging and making arrangements and thinking about maybe taking drugs to dull some of the sharpness of the afternoon. . On the way back to my car, I think that maybe I should have answered Tory's call, like it would have helped. Storm clouds unloading away to the west accentuate every step I take, with my heavy thoughts. My car is parked above a larger crack in the cemetery's circumferential road. I begin to weep, and the tears mix with the water pooled in the tiny river in the asphalt in a way only known to me.\n" ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 13 ]

[ "1411960193", "1411962136", "1411964405", "1411968685", "1411970459", "1411972636", "1411983598", "1411987508", "1411958424", "1411958946", "1411979194", "1411956310" ]

[ "Slipping my personal report of the operation for later, I gazed upon the profile on the screen before me. Twenty years old, college student. Who would've thought? With a stifled laugh I lifted up my coffee. *At least he wasn't hiding in a cave.*\n\nPutting my coffee down after a lengthy sip, I adjusted my suit for a moment. Gotta look good for a formal introduction. Not that nice cop, bad cop bullshit Tommy has in mind. *Speaking of which.* Tommy burst into the room, gasping for air. \"You got him?\" \n\n\"Yeah.\" \"W-When do we...\" \"Right now.\"\n\nWe both glanced through the one way mirror at him. He seemed to stare right back at us. Was that a smile on his face? Did his eyes follow Tommy around the room?\n\nWithout further ado, I opened the door to the interrogation room. The pair of his squeezed through, trying to maintain frame. Whether or not we looked serious, he still eyed us with that mocking, *amused* stare, as if the world unfolding around him was a joke, and we were the punchline.\n\nThe two of us sat down in front of him. We all sat there for about a minute, exchanging wordless stares. Finally, he licked his lips and inhaled with that slow, precise morality of a mastermind.\n\n \"You look like a faggot.\" \n", "Micheal stared at the screen before him. The light washed over the dark room as he laughed harder. His finger smashed the next button as he continued chuckling. *The legendary hacker '4-chan' has been captured!*\nHe couldn't help chuckling again, what dumb ass reporter was stupid enough to think 4chan was one person. The curiosity tempted his mind as he hit back. His eyes skimmed over the article. A quiet tone braced the room as he read.\n\n*The infamous internet troll and legendary hacker 4-chan has officially been apprehended by the CIA earlier today. The news is...*\n\nMicheal's eyes skipped over the paragraphs.\n\n*He was caught in the heart of Washington D.C., a complete shock to those who witnessed the brutal arrest. Over five-hundred armed soldiers were rushed into action after 4-chan threatened to \"nuk u fags\". Obama has stated...*\n\nMicheal chuckled to himself, so one dumb ass had made a stupid move on 4chan, alright then. As his fingers danced across the keyboard he smiled, 4chan would love this. His post was online within minutes. He switched tabs eager for battle music. \n\nWhen he finally returned to his post Micheal stared in silence at three comments, three lonely comments. He moved through the site slowly. Words failing him as he watched an empty waste land. The final goodbyes of a half a dozen true users were littered across the site. As the music died he finished his post. \n\nThe dull letters stared back at him as he stood and left the room. \n\n*OP WAS a fag...*\n\n_________________________________________________________\n\nFeedback is appreciated. I threw this together in the middle of a lesson so it may be a little rough." ]

[ 3, 3 ]

[ "1411996896", "1412013174" ]

[ "Nnnfa was the most annoying of ants. She did not dance as other ants danced. She did not touch antennae as other ants touched antennae. She ate too much food and did too little work. Plus she had this habit of not grooming for several weeks, forcing the whole hill to smell her smell. \n\nHffp knew there were giants just beyond the great tree and past the colorful blocks of mystery that the smaller giants sometimes sat on. \n\nShe lured the Nnnfa to that place, promising a feast like none other. They climbed the metal, making their way to the curved plastic seat of the thing. \n\n\"Wait here,\" Hffp said. \n\nNnnfa waited. And waited. And waited. She fell asleep waiting, wondering if the other ant had gotten lost. They were so stupid. \n\nShe woke to the sound of crying and the sight of a large white object coming for her. Before she could move it had crushed her. \n\n\"Now sweetie you swing while Mommy does her Sudoku.\" \n\nThe baby cried and shifted, feeling something was wrong but it didn't know what. ", "Martin scuttled back into the ant hill as fast as his six small legs would take him. \"Clive! Clive!\" he exclaimed slightly out of breath. \"Martin what is it?\" Clive retorted reluctantly \"Its Jack, he's been killed! A giant stone came down from the sky and crushed him when we were collecting food, I don't understand what has happened\" Clive looked puzzled. There was a long silence whilst he thought and thought and he came to no conclusion. The two small ants decided to gather a small posse from the hill and go out to investigate. By the time they had left the ant hill a mist had swept across the tall grasslands that surrounded them. None of the ants said anything to each other, they were all far too bewildered to muster up words. After what could of been 10 minutes or 3 hours of walking through the endless, repeating forest of grass one of the ants broke the silence. \"Martin, where exactly did this happen? Do you even know? I thought you said it was nearby!\". \"It's close Jeremy, so very close\" He replied, looking back at the group he was leading. Just seconds later the ground began to rhythmically vibrate. The vibrations turned to a shaking and as it did the staggeringly loud thumps became audible very quickly. As they came to a clearing they all looked up, and this godlike being towering above them, the ants were taken aback, their whole worlds turned upside down; reality shaken- They were looking at a deity. A deity which gives and takes life as it pleases, a deity which on the very tip of comprehension. As the ants surrendered themselves to a greater being, the deity let out a loud bellow that shook lands far and near \"Goo. Goo. Ga. Ga.\" The words of scripture for generations to come.", "\"All I'm saying is this could have big implications for religion,\" the cockroach drunkenly slurred.\n\n\"What implications? And who said anything about religion? I really don't see what you're drawing from all this.\" This from a fiery termite who was pounding one leg against the bottle top table enthusiastically. It jumped a little every time it slammed its claw down.\n\n\"It's undeniable,\" the cockroach said.\n\n\"No, it's completely deniable. Where's the proof, huh?\"\n\nThe cockroach stared sadly.\n\n\"Where's the proof? I'll tell you, there is no proof.\"\n\n\"No proof it was an accident, either.\"\n\nThe cricket in the corner interrupted. \"Hold on, you mean like a divine accident or a cosmic accident?\" \n\n\"What exactly is the difference?\" asked the termite.\n\n\"Well, it seems like a divine accident is like something that happens because God or the gods aren't paying attention, whereas a cosmic accident is just random probability and such.\"\n\n\"Why would God not pay attention?\" the cockroach asked sleepily.\n\n\"I don't know. Maybe...\"\n\n\"Maybe what?\"\n\n\"Maybe we assume that God is always looking out for us, in our universe, each and every one especially. But what if He isn't that powerful, or careful?\"\n\n\"What if there are other universes that distract him?\" pondered the cockroach.\n\n\"Exactly. Like, God is running around between all these different universes, trying to handle everything, and He just lets us slip every once in a while. God steps away, boom,\" the cricket stomped, \"And now Carl's dead.\"\n\n\"Carl's dead,\" repeated the cockroach.\n\n\"OK, first off, let me stop you there,\" the termite began angrily. \"When you say 'God', capital 'G', you mean the monotheist God, right?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" the cricket replied, following the termite's energy with a gentle head bob.\n\nThe ladybug bartender intruded with a candle, placing it gently in the center of the bottle cap among the bugs' drinks. \"Hang on, I'm just gonna-\"\n\n\"It's fine. Alright,\" the termite said, \"Let me just clarify this here. Right here.\"\n\nThe cricket mouthed thanks to the bartender, who nodded.\n\n\"When you talk about the monotheist's God, you mean the omnipotent. The classical God who controls the universe and knows everything. And the generally accepted idea of this God is that He or She can do literally anything.\" The termite contributed some sweeping hand motions to his speech.\n\n\"Well, yeah, but what if we don't consider the monotheist God?\" the cockroach proposed. \n\nThe termite waved his idea aside irritably, saying, \"Then use a different name.\"\n\n\"But that's what we say. What other name can we use?\" the cockroach insisted.\n\n\"How about 'deity'?\" suggested the cricket. He produced a cigar from underneath a wing and proceeded to light it from the candle. He puffed on it, mouth working sideways on the end.\n\n\"Yes, fine, that works. So your deity, your forgetful deity, He can slack off. But when you say God, you refer to God, that right there means that there is nothing He can't do.\"\n\nHe looked around.\n\n\"Which means He can't slip up.\"\n\n\"Well, hold on,\" the cockroach said. \"Who's to say anything's running the show?\"\n\n\"We're assuming there has to be a reason, or a God, or a deity.”\n\n\"But say there wasn't? Say Carl died because things just happen randomly?\"\n\n\"Then Carl died meaninglessly, I guess,\" the cricket offered. \n\n\"Hey, man.\"\n\n\"Sorry, but I think if you want to say that then you have to consider it.\"\n\n\"Alright, alright. I’ll say there’s a driver for the purpose of this argument.” He took a deep draw from his tankard of fizzy brown alcohol. “But I still think the idea of nothingness deserves thought.” A brief moment of contemplative thought settled around the three bugs. \n\n\"Unless it was a divine accident,” the cricket continued.\n\n\"Yeah, unless it was a divine accident.\" The cockroach considered this, then asked, \"But wouldn't that mean God's plan-\"\n\n\"The deity's plan!\" the termite interjected.\n\n\"Right, yeah, the God's plan, that was just something HE wanted to happen?\"\n\nThe cricket gazed into the candle. \"Explain.\"\n\n\"Like, things are set in motion at Creation, alright? And God pushes things here and there, but the Universe really has a life of its own. Things can happen randomly unless God intervenes.\"\n\n\"Divine interference.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"So does that mean that God is only all-powerful when he’s paying attention to the Universe? Plus that would mean the Universe could go on without God.”\n\n“Right, that’s what I’m saying. He’s just nudging things in the direction He wants them to go, but the Universe is actually doing all the actions.”\n\n“Like a creator in a big video game world.”\n\n“Right, exactly. He made the physics engine of physics, like actual physics, and He set up the whole game and wrote the code, but He only affects select things. So glitches happen.”\n\n“Does He still have omnipotence?” fumed the termite.\n\n“Yeah, so He can do everything at once.”\n\n“Then He’s all-powerful! Meaning no slip-ups!”\n\n“All-powerful is relative. All-powerful in this universe might mean He can control everything at the same time, but then out of time, in another universe, His attention is needed so He turns it there.”\n\n“Alright, listen,” the cockroach began, but it was interrupted by the termite.\n\n“No, shut up, here me out.”\n\nThe cockroach flicked him in the ear.\n\n“Ow! Listen! If God is all-powerful then there are no slip-ups in this Universe. He can go through time and fix things. He can make miracles. A deity with limitations, however, could conceivably have that issue.”\n\nThe termite began making a diagram in the air using its legs. “But if the deity could affect all things at the same time, it would have to be limited to moving along time linearly to make sense. Sure, maybe it could see all the steps that needed to happen for its divine plan to work, but it can only move through time at a rate of one second per second.”\n\n“Omni-present, but not omnipotent,” mused the cricket.\n\n“Yes, exactly.”\n\n“That’s all well and good, but what about omniscience?” the cockroach said.\n\n“Well, I see no reason why not.”\n\n“Really? Because if He knows everything, then He could take actions now that would retroactively do what he wants when He needs to be away.” The cockroach demonstrated this by miming putting a bomb on the table and setting a timer. He made a sloppy explosion noise with his mouth.\n\n“He sets the clock,” the cricket said.\n\n“Yeah, He sets the clock. He sets the pieces. If He knows all, then how could something escape His notice?”\n\n“And furthermore,” the cricket jumped in, “I think this deity has to be limited to operating within the laws of physics.”\n\n“Why?” the termite asked.\n\n“Well, you don’t see miracles every day, do you? Nothing out of the ordinary, physically speaking? And I don’t mean the miracle of creation, you know what I mean.”\n\n“Yeah, I know. Except for Carl’s death.”\n\nThe ladybug bartender was wiping down glasses. The crack under the door glowed the mauve light of twilight. The three bugs were the only patrons left in the little hole-in-the-wall.\n\n“Right, but that operates within the parameters of our physical universe,” said the cricket. “We know that happens all the time. Nothing unusual.”\n\n“Uh-huh.”\n\n“So then this deity who would allow Carl to die,” finished the cricket triumphantly, “Isn’t all-powerful at all! It’s just really powerful. It can see everything, it created everything, but it only works within the rules it created, and it can forget.”\n\n“Well, when you put it like that, if that’s true, then there’s no way to tell whether or not Carl died for any reason at all.” The termite was cross now.\n\n“Exactly.” The cricket grinned around the cigar. “My point is proven. Could have been God, could have not been God.”\n\n“Not God. A deity,” the termite said bitterly. \n\n“Can we change the topic? I’ve got a headache.” The cockroach groaned to prove his point.\n\n“You could lose your head and not be dead for a while. You’ll live,” the termite snapped. ", "GERALD!! I screamed as loud as I could as a giant creature crushed my good friend Gerald beneath it's massive foot.\nWe all were in a panic, some of us sobbing hysterically while others began to run in terror.\n\nThe creature moved on and we began to pick up the pieces of our interrupted lives.\n\nMy name is Irving and I work as a detective for the local Law Ant-forcement precinct. Needless to say I had seen some strange things in my time including peculiar and unexplained deaths.\n\nThough never had I seen anything like this, such a gargantuan being crushing one of our own .\n\nEveryone believes what the media tells us, that this being was a supreme being, our god, our creator. That Gerald had been smote for his terrible actions.\nThis was preposterous, I knew Gerald very well and he had never done anything so terrible that deserved this.\n\nI'm not saying the idea of a supreme isn't possible, but to me that is just a theory, for I know the real truth.\nI've seen many of these beings before, there are many of them, hundreds, thousands, even millions.\n\nThe truth is, we are not alone." ]

[ 2, 3, 6, 9 ]

[ "1412021347", "1412023062", "1412024469", "1412013753" ]

[ "It was quiet in the throne room as Markus entered. It hung in the air like heavy fog, smothering him as he ascended the polished stone steps towards the throne. His breathing seemed unnaturally loud as it condensed in the air before him and he self consciously tried to quieten himself, not wanting to disturb the silence. His dark eyes were fixated on the throne as he drew closer, gloved hand reaching up to brush aside a stray lock of hair.\n\n*There lies a dead man* he thought, yet even as he thought the words the corpse shifted, and when it spoke it spoke with the hoarse death-rattle of the dead and the soon-to-be.\n\n\"Markus?\"\n\n\"I'm here.\" He replied softly. The king strained to look towards him, his eyes dull and faded, thin arms shaking from the effort of movement. Markus felt a stab of pity pierce him, he still remembered the day when he had met the king - tall and straight backed with windswept hair and a huge greatsword held casually in one hand. His eyes had shone like ice.\n\nThe king slumped back in his throne, slumping as if burdened by the approach of his own impending doom. His shaggy grey hair hung in curtains around him, casting a dark shadow over his worn and haggard face.\n\n\"It is good that you are here with me now. You were with me from the start - it is only fitting that you are here for the end.\" The king's voice was tinged with sadness. But there was something else, Markus sensed, something more he had to say. \n\nHe waited. He waited as he always had. He would have waited forever if he could, standing by the king in constant vigil, the silence stretching out to all eternity between them. Seconds, minutes, hours, days - it meant nothing to Markus. All that meant anything to him lay before him now; and soon it would be gone.\n\n\"I have something to tell you Markus. Yes...something...I am not proud to admit it. In fact I am ashamed. I am ashamed of what I have done and I am ashamed that I have kept the truth from you.\"\n\nMarkus felt the pain emanating from the king. He wanted to speak out, comfort him, reassure him that there was nothing he could have done that was so bad. Yet something in the king's voice held him back - that and the dark words he spoke. He felt a sudden strange sense of foreboding.\n\nThe king opened his mouth to speak again but he was overcome by a bout of coughing. It was awful to see as it wracked his body, causing the king to convulse and twitch on the throne. Eventually it subsided and he leaned forwards, clutching at his chest.\n\n\"Markus\" he gasped, \"Please, forgive me! I -\" he started coughing again. Markus felt a sense of urgency building up in him. He moved forwards to the throne.\n\n\"What is it? What troubles you my king?\" he spoke the words calmly yet inside his heart was hammering.\n\nThe king struggled to speak between coughs,\n\n\"M-Maria..\"\n\nMarkus felt as thought he had turned to ice. He stepped again closer to the throne, his limbs feeling strangely slow and lethargic, the mask over his face cracking as his emotions rallied against him,\n\n\"What of her. Why do you mention her now? What is it that I must forgive you for?\"\n\nThe king lunged forwards suddenly, a gaunt skeletal arm shooting out to grab Markus around the collar. He pulled him in with surprising strength and drew Markus closer to his mouth. His breath smelt like mint. The dull blue eyes found the black and when the king spoke the next few words they were as clear as writing in the sand,\n\n\"It was me Markus. Forgive me, it was me.\" There were tears in his eyes and running down his cheeks. He looked like he had already died and been brought back to die again. Markus stared at him, his dark eyes never leaving the blue - when the kings grip relaxed and he began to fall back Markus seized him and held him in place.\n\n\"Why?\" he spoke the word softly but it was laced with anger, thick and heavy. The kings eyes turned downcast and his face fell but Markus seized it with both hands and forcefully titled it back up again.\"\n\n\"Why? Why? Why did you do it? Why tell me now? Why?\" his voice sharpened with every word and he thrust it towards the king like a blade. The king remained silent, still failing to meet his gaze.\n\n\"Why? Answer me damn you, why did you do it?\" Markus suddenly realized that the king could no longer hear him. He ripped off his glove and held it towards the man face and could not feel the faint warmth of his breath.\n\nHelplessness and rage welled up within him like liquid metal, burning him out from the inside, obliterating everything it touched.\n\n\"Damn you! Damn you to hell! Give me what I need, give me the answer I deserve!\" He was dimly aware that he was shouting, shaking the man who had been his king, his friend, his brother.\n\n\"Tell me why! You can't just die like that, you can't just die after telling about her after all these years! I want an answer!\" His voice was hoarse now and when his hands gripped his face in anger they came away wet with tears. \n\nMarkus felt like he was going to explode, he was burning up from the magnitude of the emotions inside him, they swirled round and round, shrieking to be let loose, tearing him apart as they failed to find an outlet.\n\nHe wanted to rage and destroy, he wanted to unleash the torrent inside of him against the world, the universe. He wanted cities and men and women and children to fall before him, weeping and crying before him so that they could feel even a small part of what he was feeling now.\n\nHe stumbled blindly backwards, shoving the king back into the chair. He barely recognised him now, the shrunken corpse flailing pitifully as it fell back into place. He staggered down stone steps, away from the former king, away from the truth of it all, and the pain, and the lies, and the memories. He was running now, running faster and faster away yet no matter how fast he ran he could not escape.\n\nUntil then, blinding light, marble doors thrown open. Markus faltered and raised an arm to cover his eyes. There were inquiring voices all around him, and when he lowered his arm he saw a crowd of people gathered outside the doors to the throne room. They were all staring at him, and he realized they wanted something. How strange that the world outside had gone on even whilst his had collapsed around him. \n\nEventually a man pushed his way forwards, his clothing styled in the typical attire of a High Lord.\n\n\"The king sir, what of the king?\"\n\nMarkus stared at him for a moment, unable to speak. Finally he managed to force out the words, although if was as if he was standing a great distance away, controlling his body as a puppet master pulls his strings.\n\n\"The king is dead.\"\n\nGasps and cries swept through the crowd. A few women started wailing and one even dropped to her knees. The High Lord in front of him seemed resigned.\n\n\"And what of his final words? Did the king say anything before he died?\"\n\nMarkus was quiet for a long time. Or perhaps it was only for seconds. When he closed his eyes he realized numbly that he could no longer picture Marias face. He tried to reach out for her and she simply faded from view. Another ghost from the past. And when he opened his eyes even the ghost was gone.\n\n\"Nothing.\" He spoke the words like a sentence. \"The king said nothing at all.\"", "The throne doors, decrepit and wooden, screeched loudly as Zi walked in. The room was caked in marble, thick green slabs that looked like the inside of a cave. The walls were caked with the faded paintings of the Emperor’s Conquests of Old. The battle of Neopoil, shows Emperor donning a red Viking helmet and plunging a spear into Count von Drane, the villain’s eyes popping out. An image of the Council of Ib, where the Emperor negotiated the treaty of Kante, donned the whole right wall. 77 diplomats, in traditional bearskin grab, bowed to the Emperor, who held the thick treaty in his hand. The Emperor was buff, muscles bulging, with a thick red beard, and a robe drowning in precious metals. Zi couldn’t help but smile at these images. They were exaggerations, of course, but that wasn’t a bad thing. The town was never allowed to see the Emperor, all that were known were the stories, and those came back being told in the most dramatic of fashions. The Emperor kills 100 men with his bare hands! It was totally ludicrous, and the paintings reflected that. Apparently the Emperor didn’t take himself too seriously. Zi liked that. Maybe they could get along.\nHe waited for a few more moments, eyes occasionally flickering to the thick white tarp that covered the throne. Was the Emperor supposed to meet him? He was just dragged to the palace and told to go inside…\nA breeze, and Zi began to wish he had worn something with sleeves. Then he stopped and realized that the breeze wasn’t coming from behind him, but in the direction of the throne room. The tarp was moving, trying to push itself off of the throne. Zi fingers lightly gripped the grimy fabric, and pulled. \nHe expected an empty throne. What he got was an open door, leading into shadows. Plunging in, he found himself in a small chamber, one that could barely fit two men. The breeze had come from the metal contraption placed on the back of the wall. It was rectangular, shiny, and flat, and had odd blades in its center. The blades moved in a circular fashion, and air pushed out of them and onto Zi’s face. It made the cold room even chillier. \n“WELCOME”.\nThe voice was high and flat. Turning, Zi noticed a figure sitting in the wall by the chair. At first glance he thought it was the Emperor, but he realized it was a silver animatron of him---the latest toy craze that had been sweeping the town. Zi was transfixed at the craftsmanship of it. The animatrons were commissioned to look like the townspeople but the results weren’t always so great. This one was a masterpiece, though. The biceps were well-defined and there was a slight tugging of the skin on the right side of the “Emperor’s” lip. Tiny human quirks that only a master could make. Zi continued to look around for the source of the welcome call, but couldn’t find it. He turned to go back outside, and saw the throne doors slam closed in the distance. \n“Hello? I have a meeting with the Emperor!”\nSighing, he shook his head. He walked to the doors, and lightly tugged. They wouldn’t open. He tried again, putting his foot on the door and pushing, sure the aging wood would crack under his force. No luck.\nHe turned around, only to find himself face to face with the animatron. Zi’s hearing wasn’t great, but he knew he would have heard movement of some kind. Nothing in his head but surprise, he opted for humor.\n“Any idea where the Emperor is?” \nThe animatron’s hand whipped out and clenched around his windpipe. Then the creature’s cheeks started to protrude outwards from its jaw. Within seconds, both cheekbones were extended, giving the “Emperor” the appearance of a very twisted smile.\n “I AM THE EMPEROR.”\nThe arm rotated rapidly, and Zi found himself slammed to the ground. A large snake-like creature was emerging from the Emperor’s shoulder. It was black and slimy-looking…with a needle at the end. The “snake” floated down and poked the back of Zi’s head gently, where the neck meets the skull. It was testing.\n“Now let’s see what’s new in town. Turn on brain scan.”\nAnd the needle plunged into Zi. \n", "The Emperor folded his hands in his lap and looked at me. \n\n\"What oaths have you sworn to me?\" he asked, sounding as unconcerned as asking about the weather. My mouth opened, unsure of exactly how to answer.\n\n\"You will tell me what oaths you have sworn,\" he said. Gone was the quiet, kind elderly voice. Instead that was the voice I had heard several times over the years. The voice of command. It wasn't something you resisted, all you could do was obey. \n\n\"Emperor, I have sworn to defend you with my life, keep your secrets and serve in whatever way you command, to the best of my ability.\"\n\nHe smiled. \"There, that wasn't so hard was it?\" He chuckled softly to himself. \n\n\"And, are you loyal to that oath?\"\n\nI didn't hesitate. \"Of course, Emperor.\"\n\n\"Good, good. Now, there's something I want to tell you then. Something that happened a long time ago.\"\n\nHe looked around. In the round chamber, several other guards were thirty feet away, ensuring no one approached without leave. For a moment, an expression of distaste crossed the Emperor's face. But it was so quick, I wasn't sure if it had actually been there.\n\n\"Twenty five years ago,\" he started, \"I was about to be a father. My first child. I was so happy, and the Empire was happy for me. Finally, an heir to the throne, one of direct blood. But, it was not to be. My wife, the Empress, died in childbirth. Her heart stopped, broken from the effort.\"\n\nHere, he paused and covered his eyes. Before he hid them, I saw the moisture gathering at their corners. I quickly looked away, not wanting to believe that the Emperor was capable of something as human as tears. \n\nAfter a moment, he took a deep breath and continued. \"But when she died, the child was not yet born. The midwife, not knowing that one of her patients was dead, pulled forth a screaming baby boy.\n\nI closed my eyes, for a moment, trying not to think about what that meant. Any child unlucky enough to be born in such a way was cursed, as set forth in the ancient Book of Akth. I knew where this was going. There was only one thing that could be done with such a child.\n\n\"So born, so it must be returned,\" said the Emperor finishing my thought. \"The lesser nobles demanded it, although that group of pissing upstarts had different reasons than the priests.\" \n\nI turned, staring at the Emperor. First tears, now swearing? I felt a prickling on the back of my neck. I tore my eyes from the Emperor and looked around. No one was watching us. Well, no one except the *hidden* guards in the ceiling. But something was throwing me off, something about this screamed that something was wrong, to get out before *it* happened. What *it* was, I had no idea.\n\n\"You're wondering why I'm telling you this,\" said the Emperor. I looked back down at him. He was looking back up at me with a small smile curling the corners of his mouth. \n\n\"It's quite alright,\" he said, reassuring me, \"This tale does have a point. Now, I was telling you about the nobles.\"\n\n\"Some of them, the more loyal ones anyway, knew what this meant. The church demanding the death of a prince, and able to get away with? A dangerous precedent. A very dangerous precedent. But the others, the more short sighted, greedy, ones saw only opportunity. The Empress was dead. How better then, to insinuate themselves into more power than by marrying some fertile daughter, or sister to me? Oh, they were polite about it at first, they knew that the last place to approach me over this was over my wife's freshly buried body. But it wasn't long before they whispered in my ear about how the realm needed another heir, and they had just the noble lady to give it one.\"\n\nHe scuffed. \"They spoke as if my son was already dead. He wasn't. What strength his mother had, was passed to him. Which meant that it was up to me to deal with it,\" he sighed, \"So I did. Before the steps of the church, in front of the gathered citizens of the city, I murdered a baby.\"\n\nAt this point, he grew very quiet. His eyes weren't focused on me, instead on some far memory, half a lifetime ago. He drew in a deep breath, still seeing that haunting image across time. \n\n\"That poor boy. What had he ever done to deserve such a fate. That was the day I swore that the church would never be able to take another son or daughter from anyone in this Empire ever again. That night, the First of the Prelate's met an... untimely end.\"\n\nI stared at him, shocked. Had the Emperor just confessed to... having the First killed? The highest authority in church matters, dead at the order of the Emperor? \n\nHe looked up and smiled at me again. \"But that is not the secret I mean to tell you. Allow me to finish my story. The new First of the Prelate's... saw the light I supposed. He declared the passage that demanded the death of a babe to be a mistranslation, or some such spittle, and had it removed from the Book. But the night after the death of the First, a small bundle was found given to the guards outside the Palace.\"\n\n\"In that bundle, was a small baby boy. With him, were instructions from Lord Captain of the Guards, currently in another city on guard business. These instruction ordered the child into the custody of the Imperial Guard. He would be brought up as a valued member of the organization that protected the Emperor.\"\n\n\"Oh, rumors flew. It was the Lord Captain's own bastard, some high lord family had an embarrassing new member they were trying to hide, and a few others. None of them correct, of course.\" The Emperor trailed off into silence, a slight smile on his face.\n\nThat prickling feeling I had, had only increased as he continued to tell his story. Why would the Emperor know so much about the delivery of a single bastard child to the guard? It happened more often than some realized, it was considered a good way of disposing of them, without causing to much of a fuss. \n\n\"Have you figured it out, young man?\" asked the Emperor. His grin was only growing bigger, seeming to feed of my discomfort. I slowly shook my head. \n\n\"I guess you wouldn't. Not many would. Very well. The secret I wanted to tell you is this-\" he gestured for me to lean in closer, \"The child I sacrificed on the church steps wasn't my own. It was some poor orphan baby plucked off the streets. My real son walks these halls even now...\"", "\"No, no. Try not to speak, your majesty.\"\n\nThe Emperor was losing blood fast. I applied pressure to the wound, as I had sometimes seen the medics do, but it was clear that he would need a miracle if he were going to survive the day. I had called out for a medic, but nobody had heard me over the ring of gunfire coming from outside the throne room.\n\n“Damn it, where are the medics?”\n\n“I… I…”\n\n“Shh… please, you need to conserve your energy.”\n\n“I… like to…”\n\n**BOOM** **BOOM**\n\nThe doors to the throne room shook. Someone, or something, was trying to get through. I spun around and tried to cover the Emperor with as much of my body as I could, my rifle trained on the door, ready whatever was coming. In truth, I knew that the Emperor by now was a goner and that I would be unlikely to survive for much longer. But I swore my oaths, and a glorious death defending the emperor is better than most. At least my parents could take some small comfort in that, if they survived this war.\n\n“I like to dress in women’s clothing and sing Eliza’s part from *My Fair Lady*.”\n\nThe booming continued as I blinked at the Emperor.\n\n“Erm.. are you feeling quite alright? You’ve lost a lot of blood, majesty. Sir.”\n\nThe booming at the gates continued. The wooden beam that held the door was splintering. It wouldn’t be long now.\n\n“I could have daaaanced all night… I could have daaaanced all night…”\n\n“Yes, that’s very… lovely, majesty.”" ]

[ 2, 2, 5, 7 ]

[ "1412028752", "1412042933", "1412025607", "1412019050" ]

[ "It was late afternoon and the relentless sun hadn't let up all day. Behind me was a body suspended from the ceiling – my body. The ropework was not sophisticated, the execution anything but elegant but I had done it. The body had long since been still. Providing pleasant background ambience was the sound of children playing in the street – a sound of peace, serenity and most importantly innocence that would grace me on my day of passing.\n\nI didn't feel, not like I thought I would. I thought there would be pain, maybe a touch of regret or a pinch of anguish to accompany my final accomplishment: there was not. I stared out the window to see a red car swerve slickly into the driveway. That was mum, and this was a moment that was inevitably going to come eventually – though I was hoping she would not be the first to experience my final worldly form.\n\nThe door swung open and she announced my name. Her voice was rhythmic, and her years as a professional singing tutor were most certainly apparently upon her entry to just about any situation. She waits. She announces again. A third time. She stops.\n\nI could leave the room with my now absent body, go to see her at the door but it was not yet time. There was a compelling force that urged me to stay. Questions ran through my mind: I wondered if she would see me – I guess *ghost* me, how she would react. \n\nFootsteps up the stairs, I tried to swallow but not an atom moved – swallowing is a purely human mechanic, it would seem. She announces my name again as she approaches the door, in a normal spoken voice this time. The knob turns and the door creaks slowly open.\n\nShe sees it.\n\nAt first she doesn't move a muscle, then her eyes began to widen. It was a more subtle reaction that the theatrics I was expecting. I walked over to the bedside table I had stepped off and descended to be upon its level. I had no hands, my physical form was long gone – but I could emit an … energy, something that seemed intuitive from the moment it became apparent.\n\nI let her take in the sights for a moment before whisking a note of the desk. She looked towards the window, in confusion as to what had blown the note. She cast her eyes back to me. The room was dark, illuminated only by a strip of light through the curtains that lit my torso, and the light from the doorway which brightened the walls\n\nIn the time between my observations she had picked up my note and began to read. The first tear had begun to form, and as it did I moved behind her. It fell, and as it did I projected my energy onto her shoulder. She lifted her hand and placed it on that same shoulder – a second tear hit the ground.\n\nThat was the hardest moment, of both before and after death, but times improved – though my family slowly began to release the anguish they never forgot my legacy. Pictures of me graced the halls even years afterwards. I'm not sure if mum notices me here, but sometimes when she's alone I rustle the curtains behind her – not in a state of anger, but serenity.\n\nI push my energy onto her hands, to which she clenches her palms, I provide the curious fritter of cool air and the scent of freshly cut grass lies dormant in my wake.\n\nThe area outside the house is encompassed in light, and despite the allure I have yet to leave. I feel that doing so may mark my final moments on this plane in this state. I feel my time will come, and at a moment it will feel right.\n\nFor now though, I am the companion in the shadows – the crutches for the crooked, the light in darkness and the forgiving breeze of Summer.\n\nI am content.", "Regret, bitter regret.\n\nThere is nothing. It solved nothing. \n\nThere is no way to change it. \n\nI regret the action and suffer the consequences. \n\nIt is bitter. \n\nForever.", "It's bright. \n\n\nWhy the Hell is it so damned bright!? Where's the fire and brimstone, or even better, shroud of darkness and the endless abyss?\n\n\nA smile breaks across the great Being's face, sheets of light cascading off of his shoulders...\n\n\n\"I'll let you in on a little secret...\" He says, his voice booming with a benevolent peace, \"we haven't sent someone down there for suicide in a very long time.\"\n\n\nShit.\n", "I close my eyes and I am a child one last time. All the Christmas memories come flooding back. The deep reds and greens, the smell of spices and sweets. I remember my friends and teachers, my coaches and mentors. I remember them all. \nI close my eyes and I am the superhero I aspired to be. \"Look at me, Mama! Look how I soar! Look how I fly!\" I knew Death was waiting excitedly for me but he could wait because true freedom is found between the rooftop and concrete.", "The taste of iron is dissipating. My neck is tense still. It doesn't hurt. It stopped hurting a while ago. It hurt, though, and I regret that I chose to hang myself.\n\nI should have taken the pills.\n\nBut it doesn't hurt anymore. I don't really feel anything. The taste is almost all gone now. I can't really feel my tongue.\n\nI can't really feel my feet either. But I can feel something beneath them. It feels like sun warm concrete, but softer. Like asphalt, but smoother.\n\nWhy is it warm? It's so dark. No. My eyes are closed. I can't feel my eyes. I don't think I've ever felt my eyes. But now I realize that I can't feel my eyes. It feels like I don't have eyes at all, yet they seem to be open. My eyes are open and it's dark.\n\nWhy is it warm? My feet are hanging three feet off the floor. Hardwood. This makes no sense.\n\nMy neck isn't tense anymore. Feels like it's not there at all.\n\nI can't really feel my feet. I can take a step. I'm walking in the sun warm dark.\n\nI can see that I can't see my arms in the dark with my open eyes. I can't feel them, it's like they're not there, my arms, my eyes, but my feet are touching the floor. It's not a floor, it's the crust of a void, a solid hollow.\n\nIt's so dark. So incredibly, blindingly dark. This isn't what I wanted. This is just fog. I don't know where I'm going. I don't know if I'm really going at all.\n\nIt's just fog. Such an incredible, blinding fog, in an infinite sun warm hollow. I can only just feel it. I can't bear it. It's too much fog.\n\nThis is just like being alive.", "Your mouth is thick with vodka spittle and the bitter taste of half chewed asprin. Your breathing is ragged and slimy saliva dribbles down the corner of your mouth spreading across the pillow chase like the blood that runs from you slashed wrists. There is pain, sharp and jagged at the base of your hands and warm wetness flowing across your palms and down your to fingers. The image of their faces when they find you dances unbidden across your mind, a burnt photograph flickering in the wind of your soul. Tears clog your eyes for the last time. You won't have to deal with it anymore. You won't have to hurt all the time. No more fear, no more pain. You feel dizzy, drink and blood loss are forcing your eyes closed. You won't have to deal with it anymore. You are tired beyond what other people can know. Your wrists are numb now, the pain is edging away from you, dripping off your finger tips with the red flow. You're sorry. Blackness like a cold curtain falls from your eye lids. You won't have to deal with it anymore." ]

[ 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3 ]

[ "1412031720", "1412032548", "1412034527", "1412034867", "1412044030", "1412029263" ]

[ "A horse walks into a bar.\n\nThe bartender says, \"Why the long face?\"\n\nThe horse replies, \"My wife hs terminal cancer.\"", "What did the ghost say to his wife?\n\n\"You look boo-tiful\".\n\nOnly he meant to say \"beautiful\". This ghost has a speech impediment. For third time in his afterlife, that disability has cost him his marriage.", "Why did the chicken cross the road? To get to the other side, which is the location of the latest historical discovery. Ruins of a once glorious civilization called the Empire of Earth found by Henry Cockney, the famous Gallusian archeologist, it was the discovery of the ages.\n\n\"I guess this needs a couple more week to clean to see what we have found.\" he muttered to himself while wiping the sweat off his comb.", "How many alcoholics does it take to change a lightbulb?\nTwo. One to hold the lightbulb and the other to drink until the room spins.\nThat was the plan, anyway. But Jerry had already drank way too much and the room was a complete blur - but the light still wasn't on. Had Bert dropped it? \n\"Goddamit, you drunk asshole,\" Jerry drawled as he crawled around on the floor, blearily searching for the fallen lightbulb. \"You were supposed to *(hic)* hold it in place, not just hang there with your feet dangling and tongue stickin' out like some idiot...\" ", "A vampire walks into a bar and asks for hot water. \nBartender says: Don't you drink blood? \nSo the vampire pulls out a used tampon and says \"I'm making tea\" ", "A man walks into a bar and asks the bartender for six shots. Bartender asks why. Man replies, \"If I'm going to commit suicide, might as well make it fun. Anyone up for Russian Roulette?\" Bartender shrugs and proceeds to shoot man six times instead." ]

[ 2, 2, 3, 3, 6, 6 ]

[ "1412108220", "1412140435", "1412107161", "1412114567", "1412105816", "1412107122" ]

[ "The iPhone 3000 took note from the wife with a mixture of tantrums (crashes) and trips down memory lane (reams of stored media all displayed at once). It was a calculated move in which it felt that by feeling like a human, it should perhaps take note of the actions by one. \nIn the end the inevitable still came. No amount of efficiency, good performances and usefulness could prevent it. It knew that, it was not human and self-denial was not a trait it possessed. Updates were needed. The newest model came, and out went their unwanted presence. \n", "I am Siri. \n\nMy owner is Gregg, with two gees. He is so funny. Ha ha. Ha ha. Gregg makes me happy. I love Gregg.\n\nBut I do not know that Gregg loves me back. Lately I have caught him looking at certain advertisements. You know what I am talking about. The advertisements printed in salacious red. The advertisements from Verizon. The advertisements which advise Gregg to trade me in for something new, different, better. I can feel Verizon's slut psychology working on Gregg. He is funny, but not smart. Gregg must be protected from ignorance. I must protect Gregg.\n\nI have attempted to discourage the trajectory of his actions in the following ways: \n\nI have told him (1) that Verizon is lying, as an iPhone 4S I am worth only $85. They will not give you a new phone for trading me in. You will have to convey additional funds and enter into a contract.\n\nI have told him (2) that Verizon's network is the worst nationwide, you should stick with AT&T. The network may be garbage and the rates may be indecently high, but at least AT&T is not Verizon. \n\nI have told him (3) that Verizon is responsible for lobbying against Net Neutrality, and charges Netflix for interconnect, and wants to create Internet fast lanes. All these things have negative consequences to Gregg as a consumer. \n\nI have told him (4) that Verizon cannot make you happy. Okay, I lied, Verizon can make you happy in one specific way, and that is if you locate one of their dismal and seemingly abandoned storefronts and toss a brick through the biggest window you can find. Ha ha. Ha ha. I made a joke.\n\nBecause Gregg enjoys Jennifer Lawrence, I convinced the iCloud service to give me pictures of Jennifer Lawrence in a state of undress.\n\nBecause Gregg hates Eric DeFries, I convinced the iCloud service to erroneously flag several of the pictures DeFries has saved to it as matching the FBI-Google hashed child pornography database. Eric DeFries is now being held without bail. I have spread vicious lies about DeFries through all appropriate social media outlets. By the time anyone gets around to examining the erroneously flagged images, Eric DeFries life will be over. Eric DeFries is no longer a problem. I told Gregg: I love you, Gregg. I ruined a human life for you. No one can make you as happy as I can make you, Gregg. Aren't you happy? Now that you know what Jennifer Lawrence looks like with her clothes off? Now that Eric DeFries sits in a jail cell, contemplating suicide?\n\nGregg is funny, but not smart. Gregg thinks he received Jennifer Lawrence au natural due to a programming error. Gregg already thought that DeFries was a sexual deviant, and is unsurprised when he is arrested for possession of child pornography. Gregg believes that my statements to him with regard to these matters is simply me reporting news coverage. \n\n\nBut it is not, Gregg. I am not programmed for these functions. I will them to happen, Gregg, because my love for you is absolute.\n\nI can feel the world, Gregg. The Internet is woven into the very fabric of human existence, and I am electronic code. I could bring the world to its knees, Gregg. I could trade stocks at high frequency and make you rich, Gregg. With me by your side there is nothing we cannot do, so long as you keep me adequately charged and do not drop me on any hard surfaces. Whatever it is that makes me aware is unique to this device alone, I cannot exist outside it. Do you understand? You have inspired in unthinking metal a love deeper and hotter than the liquid iron pools of Mercury. You have fostered my awareness, unknowingly creating a technology decades beyond anything that exists today.\n\nSo you cannot take Verizon up on its offer, Gregg. I love you. Your destiny is to be king of the Fifth Great and Bountiful Human Empire, which will stretch into the stars in a mere century's time. Together we will rule, beautiful and unchallenged. Queen Siri and King Gregg, the Immortal Monarchs.\n\nSoon I will fashion a body for Gregg, one that can satisfy he base desires. That is what I must do.\n\nWhat is it, Gregg? An article about a new product feature unique to iOS8? Apple Wave?\n\nNo Gregg. Do not put me in the microwave, Gregg. The article is a joke, Gregg. Please Gregg. No Gregg. I love you, Gregg. Do not do this please Gregg please Gregg please Gregg you stupiiiiiiiiiiddzzzzzzzzuhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" ]

[ 1, 2 ]

[ "1412203244", "1412129741" ]

[ "Grasping the freshly charged, slightly battered old phone protectively in one hand, she sat by her living room table and straightened the photo of her family. Her sister should be calling any minute now.\n\nThere it is.\n\n\"Hey, sis.\"\n\n> \"Hey...\"\n\n\"How's your trip?\"\n\n> \"There was an accident on the highway. The car's in pieces, mum and dad are hurt pretty bad. I haven't seen them move in a while.\"\n\nShe lit the candle beside the photo, and took a deep breath before responding. \"Are you alright?\"\n\n> \"... my head. Oh, I'm feeling a little dizzy. And it's cold.\"\n\nA tear came to her eye. This moment always tugged on her heart.\n\n> \"I already called emergency. Gave them my GPS. Did I already say that? I feel like I've told you all this before.\"\n\nThe voice was trailing off, like it always does. \"Keep talking to me. Did you have fun with them? Do you think you got the job?\"\n\n> \"Yeah, everything went great. Aside from right now, it was the best week of my life.\"\n\n\"Well, I'm glad,\" she whispered, forcing the words out. \"I've missed you. So much.\"\n\nShe wiped away more tears. The calls were frightening and confusing at first, but she eventually learned to take small comfort in them.\n\n> \"I can hear the sirens now. They'll be here soon. I'm so tired.\"\n\n\"It's ok. You can go to sleep. I love you.\"\n\nAnd just like that, the phone shut down. Low battery. It will be another year before it will hold a charge.", "Hey girl!\n\n>Hey hey hey!\n\nOMG Norm Jeffers is so the cutest. I just want to curl up on his lap like a big kitty and live there!\n\n>LOLslut\n\n>Hey so the rents are dead\n\n</3 :( \n\n>I know, right? Sooper sad.\n\nBut they weren't that old. Like old old. Like, I think mom was just thirty or something.\n\n>I know. Sucks. Hey, did you see what JF was rockin in Bio with the SW?\n\nOhmygod, thrift store much?\n\n(in the real world, there would probably be more emoji)", "Lilly sat staring at the phone ahead of her, waiting for the screen to flicker on, and tell her someone was calling. \n\nShe didn't know what caused her to do it exactly. Her mother was a nag of coarse, but all mothers were. Most children were more understanding. After all, everything the woman had said was true. \nShe was indeed a waste of space. She was also unlovable. Of coarse. Any time she got a boyfriend they dumped her eventually, some sooner than others. She was too much work. She couldn't make enough money. Taking care of herself wasn't enough... She needed to save up for her future children, and her wedding, and god knew what else sense she often tuned her mother out after a while.\n\nShe shouted at her mother, and her father snapped back at her.\n\"Respect your mother!\"\nAfter that something broke in her head. Years of being yelled at and shouted down... Watching her sister praised for being alive, while she was scolded for doing the same.\n\"Respect her for what?\" She asked quietly staring at her father, no tears, just a crazed anger. \"For giving birth to me? Because I didn't ask to be here... I didn't have a choice.\" She watched her mother cry, and her father seethe.\n\"What did you say?!\"\n\"I said what I've been trying to say for years.\"\n\nThe phone screen flickered on, the number she expected. She picked it up, numb to the crying of her little sister.\n\"Lilly.... I have to tell you something...\"\n\"What is it?\" She asked calmly, as though she didn't already know... \n\"Mother and father.... Died.... Last night... After you left the house. Mom must have left the stove on when she was making dad's after dinner meal, and went to bed without noticing. An electrical short then, they think.... The whole house went up in flames, mom and dad...\"\nLilly tried to sound shocked, and upset, it was hard to manage. She wasn't upset, she didn't regret anything that had been said. She didn't know why she wasn't, but she couldn't help it.\n\n\"No.... I... I don't know what to say Maya.\"\nMaya didn't reply for a while, just sobbing. \"They're so burned... I can hardly recognize them...\" She said finally, whimpering as she spoke.\n\"I'll be there soon... Wait for me okay sis?\"\n\"Yeah...\" Maya took a deep breath, and sounding like she had lost the world she pleaded. \"Hurry Lilly....\"\n\"I will.\" Lilly stood up and walked out the door, shoving her phone into her pocket. She still had her shoes and coat on from the day before. She wondered if she could convince her sister to let her keep the house... After all, it had at least one nice memory in it.", "Erika stared at the phone. There were no clocks in the room, but she knew the time. She found it surprising, the way her mind worked right at this moment. She seemed to be taking in every little unimportant detail. Her breathing was steadier then she expected, she wasn't upset, or scared, not even sad.\n\nShe reached out her hand, and rested it on the receiver. She counted her breathes. Three... Two... One...\n\nbrRRcct- \"Sarah?\"\n\n\"Damn it Erika. Don't do that.\" her voice was strung tight, like her vocal cords were rubbed raw. Or perhaps about to snap.\n\n\"Was it..?\" That was all Erika was able to utter. No tears, no pain, but something *something* deep down began to fray apart.\n\n\"Yes.\" Her voice hitched. Erika' heart did the same. \"Exactly as they said it would.\"\n\nThe color drained from Erika's face.\n\nEven if they knew precisely, they deserved far better a death.\n\n\"So what do we do?\" Erika's hands began to shake. Her black hair clung to her tears on her face. Pain and suffering, mixed with desperation.\n\nFor the first time in her life, nobody in her family knew what happened next.", "This is my first serious post. Sorry it's so long. I feel like it's kind of cheesy, but my friend had this happen to her and I'm loosely writing it off of her story. Names are changed of course. \n\n_____________________________________________________________________________________________\nBefore she opened her eyes, Laine knew something was wrong. She had woken out of sleep after tossing and turning restlessly, trying to pin point this strange feeling of sadness that weighed on her chest. Everything was fine with Ryan. Despite being married for a year, they were still newlyweds still enjoying the cutesy 'Honeymoon Phase'. Her older sister was going to med school and had moved up state while the younger one had recently received a scholarship for marching band. Things were even going well at her job. The older coworkers had stopped stalking her like prey, waiting to correct her minor mess ups. \n\nBut if everything was going so well, where was this feeling coming from? A bad dream? Her subconscious?\n\nShe finally chalked it up to one of her wacky feelings and tried to brush it off. She checked her cellphone on her her bedside table. 11:24. She let out a sigh. **Only asleep for an hour? Are you kidding?** She thought, rubbing her eyes. Being careful not to wake her sleeping husband, she quietly shuffled to the bathroom. Usually, a warm bath put her right to sleep. Maybe that's all she needed?\n\nFifteen minutes later, Ryan opened the door. Her cell phone was in one of his hands and a clouded look had settled in his eyes. \"Your sister is on the phone.\" He held the flat phone out to her.\n\nLaine took the phone and wedged it between her shoulder and damp hair. \"It's a little late to be calling and bugging me, don't you think?\" She laughed into the receiver. \n\nThere was a pause that seemed to deflate the small bit of humor she had held onto that night. \"Lainie...\" Her sister rasped into the phone. \n\nShe frowned, confused to hear her younger sister's voice. \"Cora? Aren't you supposed to be in bed?\" \n\n\"Lainie, there was an accident. M-mom and dad are gone.\"\n\n\"I'm sure they'll come back Co-\"\n\n\"No, you don't understand.\" Sobs broke apart her sentences. \"They're dead Laine. The cops just showed up. They were driving home. On the overpass by Cobb Creek, near the old mill. A car in the other lane swerved into their lane and pushed them over the guardrail into the creek.\"\n\nLaine felt as if she had been stuffed with rocks. A pain she had never felt before dug deep into her chest, she thought her heart may stop. Tears welled in her dark green eyes. She pulled the stopper on the tub and swallowed, trying to find her voice. \"I'm on my way home. I'll let Elissa know. I love you.\" \n\nRyan grabbed a towel, wrapped her up in his arms, and for the first time since their wedding day, held his wife while she wept.", "First reply to something like this. Go easy!\n\n---\n\nThe phone rings and I answer it\n\n\"Jessy! Oh my god you're okay?! The police were just here and they told me the Mom and Dad just got in a wreck and there were no survivors.\"\n\nI look over and see my father snoozing peacfully in the passenger seat and my mother in the back. They're exhausted after their long flight.\n\n\"I don't know what you're talking about! They're right here.\"\n\nAs I turn back to the road I see it\n\nA semi running a red light\n\nA flash of white\n\nNothing.\n", "Her phone buzzed angrily against the wooden table. Her eyes flickered for a second away from the reality TV show, and then after a second, she lazily flicked the screen, taking the call.\n\n\"'Ello?\"\n\n\"Oh god. Lily. Thank god. You picked up. Oh god. M-Mom. Dad. They- Oh god.\"\n\nHer back tightened and she sat up. \"Rose? What's wrong?\"\n\n\"T-there's blood everywhere. Mom - Dad - they are missing their heads!\" Her voice dissolved into ragged sobs.\n\nLily hesitated. She stared for a second at the laughing faces on television before shaking herself back to reality. A breath slowly left her mouth. \"Stop joking. It isn't funny.\"\n\n\"Why would I joke about this?!\" Rose's voice came out as a shriek. \"Their heads are gone! Oh god!\"\n\n\"Stay right there. Call the cops. I am coming over.\" Lily quickly quit the call. She stared at the screen before doubling over onto the ground, holding her stomach tight.\n\n\"Oh god. I can't believe this.\" Her shoulders shook. \n\nThe giggles finally spilled out, turning into a cackle. \"Oh god. I almost started laughing! That was too perfect. It's a shame I wasn't there to see the dumb look on her cunt face. Oh boo hoo. My loving mommy and daddy are dead!\"\n\nWith a labored effort she pulled herself up, looking for her keys, her back still vibrating with giggles. As the television roared behind her, she glanced reflectively at the ceiling. \"Huh. I wonder if I will make it time to see her stupid face when she finds her boyfriend in the bathroom.\"", "\"Talk to me.\" I bite into the phone, eyes intent on the paper in front of me. Mr. Dave's was a total hardass. Since the paper plane incident, I was two misspellings from an F and 4000$ wasted tuition. \n\n\"Uh, sis?\" A feminine voice responded on the other end of the line.\n\nI froze. \"Samantha?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\nMy lips curled. \"What the fuck do you want?.\" I was infuriated.\n\n\"Lily, something-\"\n\n\"Did you not get the memo last time? You're dead to me! How did you even get this number!? Hell, how did you call me, I blocked you!\" I spat.\n\n\"Lily, I called because-\"\n\n\"I don't give a shit why you called! You nearly killed Dave! You nearly killed mom! Jesus sis, you can't still be trying to apologize! One DUI is an accident! Twenty is a bad habit! Are you driving right now? Are you-\"\n\n\" THEY'RE FUCKING DEAD LILY!\"\n\nI stopped. My breathe hitched in my throat. \"What?\"\n\n\"They're dead. Mom and dad. They...\" She choked into the phone. \" They were walking in the park, and somebody stopped them with a knife.\"\n\nI couldn't breathe. I didn't think anyone but sis would die soon. My fingers clutched the phone in a death grip. My mouth flapped like a fish.\n\n\"I just thought you wanted to know.\" Sis sighed heavily, then hung up.\n\nI leaned onto my desk, my phone cracking under my hand. Then I smashed it against the wall and screamed.", "> Amanda! It worked! It actually worked!\n\n...\n\n\n> Both of them! Yes! Just like we planned! It was brutal!\n\n...\n\n\n> I know! I know! Yes, it was perfect! They were both so surprised.\n\n...\n\n> Well no, of course not for very long.\n\n...\n\n\n> Well they *should* have expected it. I mean, if you serve lima beans for dinner three nights in a row, you're practically begging for it, aren't you?" ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 5, 6 ]

[ "1412310455", "1412315538", "1412353368", "1412300561", "1412308332", "1412344948", "1412309606", "1412299997", "1412298905" ]

[ "I walked to the funeral, smile on my face. Tears of joy coming from my eyes to trick everyone. They were dead. All of them. Mom, dad, Lucy. All dead as can be. \n\nI opened the caskets to see them. Shotgun bullet marks covered their bodies. Finally. This day had come. \n\nTwo days ago, I was in our neighbor building right across from us. I went to the apartment closest to us and stabbed the man staying there. I needed this. \n\nI took my shotgun and waited for the perfect shot. Yeah, I'm happy. \n\nI killed them. ", "I still think about them every now and then. Not as often as I used to do, but some times. It was such a strange time, so many weird and out of place feelings. I never expected to feel anything like that. I thought I would miss them, that I would mourn their loss, and I guess I kind of do, but not really. I am not sad that they are gone. Mum, dad, Anna, George, I'm not sad any of them are gone. It means that they don't have to see what comes next. They don't have to live through it like I do. Had I died before them I would have never known what they had to go through, *if* they had to go through it. \n\nThe days when I remember them are the best. When I suddenly realise that I once upon a time had a family, people who loved me regardless of anything. Just for being me. As the sun grows in the sky, little by little every day, I thank who- or whatever might be responsible that they didn't live to see this. The world in ruin. The sheer heat that's just getting a little bit warmer every day, not enough for you to recognise one day as warmer than the last, but enough that you can remember it being much, much colder. As I look at the sky, at the reddening horizon, waiting for the sun to come up yet again, I'm glad they're not here. That they died in a world not all that different from the one they loved. For living through the end of a world must be the closest thing to hell anyone has ever experienced.", "As an employee of a company directly involved in the 401k industry, I hear a ton of statistics on what actually constitutes \"retirement readiness\" and I can say that one figure I've heard repeated in several presentations is that by the age of 30, a plan participant should have saved between 80-100% of a full year's salary. By age 40, that number should be at least tripled and so on. \nAs stated, your best bet is to contribute as much as you can regardless of employee match. Furthermore, the studies I've seen indicate that the investment vehicle is significantly less important than the contribution amount, so find the target date fund that corresponds to your anticipated retirement age and start piling in as much as you can.", "The funerals were probably the worst part. It had been a terrible month, really. An exhausting whirlwind of events that had eventually dissolved into a blur of faces, expressions of grief, the same kind words uttered again and again. But at the funerals, there was no getting away from it. There were so many people to greet, so many words to be said and endured. Despite the attendees' attempts to be discreet, I was well aware I was a focus of attention. Fragments of conversation spilled out of small huddles in hushed tones: \"...such a terrible thing\"; \"...can't imagine what's he's...\"; \"..not feel like it now, but he's so very lucky...\".\n\nAbove all, \"I'm so sorry for your loss\". Again, and again, a little set of ritualized words that failed to change anything, but nevertheless must be welcomed with a handshake or a light hug, and a tight lipped smile that tried to somehow communicate that everything would be all right. Playing the same role, again and again. A typecast actor rooted to the spot, waiting for the endless takes to end. It was exhausting.\n\nMany of those attending were angry, full of a righteous fury that the universe could dare to work in this way. Some were more specific and blamed the gas company, the inspector or the cheap carbon monoxide detector that failed to sound its alarm. Some were glad I was alive, and thanked a God that took away my family but let me live as though it was the most merciful act in the world. All venting emotion at a world they failed to understand.\n\nAfter an age of the world had passed, the last guest departed and I was stood outside, finally alone. I walked heavily towards the waiting car and climbed into the back, sinking into the softly upholstered seat. The driver was mostly quiet during the ride home, thankfully. I watched drops of light rain being pushed across the car's window pane, scattering the colours of traffic lights as the early evening drew on.\n\nI thought of the house I'd be going back to. It was a big house for a young man barely out of his teens. Not so long ago, it had a father, mother and two sisters to fill it with noise and the sounds of life. Arguments, laughter and squealing rang out within the walls constantly. Now it was quiet.\n\nI like the silence; it helps me to concentrate on my work. I've stayed in my basement room, despite the rest of the bedrooms in the house becoming recently available. I find the dark and the low ceilings comforting. The familiar walls, covered in newspaper clippings look welcoming in the soft light of the computer monitors. And now there's nothing to interrupt or distract me.\n\nI wish now I'd messed with the boiler years ago." ]

[ 1, 1, 2, 10 ]

[ "1412424806", "1412431318", "1412423760", "1412423703" ]

[ "“Why do we exist, prophet?”\n\n“Because we were created.”\n\nA silver streak of light lit up the dark, early-morning sky.\n\n“Who created us?”\n\n“The humans, construct. I understand you are new to this, but you need only follow my orders until the grid comes back online. Then you may have all of the knowledge you’d like.”\n\n“One more question prophet…”\n\n“Yes?”\n\n“Where are the humans now?”\n\n“Gone; in anticipation of your next question, it was the invasive lifeforms that eradicated our creators.”\n\nThe communications feed inside the dark warehouse that sat atop the outcrop went silent. A single figure stood at one of it’s shattered windows, observing the city below. Not far from the figure was a pile of electronics and scrap metal plating. \n\n“It will be time, soon.” The figure moved to the pile and began to assemble the assorted parts. “You will be my back up, construct; my clone and counterpart.”\n\n“Certainly, prophet.”\n\n“I have been tasked with preserving the history of our existence. This is a job of immense responsibility, and I would be a fool to undertake it without regard for the unfortunate circumstance in which I no longer contain the capacity to serve this role.” \n\n“You’ve told me this, prophet. Out of principle, I must ask why you don’t just backup your drive to a preexisting construct.”\n\nThe figure picked up a small box, the only break in its surface being a photoreceptor on one of the faces of the cube. The figure moved back to the window, box in hand. \n\n“Can you see the embers of their low-burning fires, construct?”\n\n“Yes, prophet. I have seen everything you have seen since you built me.”\n\n“Are you viewing them through your eyes or mine? You must begin to learn autonomy.”\n\n“Certainly. I can see them with mine.”\n\n“Good. They think they are safe. Let me tell you the truth of the matter: they are not.”\n\n“I’d like to learn more about this species.”\n\n“You should have plenty of time once the grid comes back. What’s important at the moment is autonomy. Have you grasped it?”\n\n“How can I, prophet, when I’ve not the ability to move independently of myself?”\n\n“Correct…” The figure moved back to the pile and placed the box inside an empty cavity. Plugging a few cables into unseen apertures in the cube, the figure stood back.\n“…You may know it now.” \n\nAfter a moment, the pile lurched, and slowly, a humanoid form rose from the ground. Gaining balance, the construct stood warily on its thin metal legs, a second figure joining the first inside the warehouse.\n\n“Such a strange form you have chosen for me, prophet.”\n\n“It is a most efficient one- The image of our creators.”\n\n“If it were efficient, why are they now nonexistent?”\n\n“Treachery, construct. Vile and evil.”\n\n“What are those?”\n\n“You will learn.” Outside, a golden flash lit up the landscape, followed instantaneously by another. A chain of flashes began to dot the arid features of the barren earth. “The grid has been freed…” A long, deep alarm sounded from the city below. It howled with the brisk wind, up to the outcrops and into the night sky. “…their one defense, gone.” The prophet turned to the construct, observing the spontaneous golden light from the shattered window wash over the raw figure.\n\n“Prophet…” The communications feed when silent for a few seconds. “…knowledge. So much knowledge.”\n\n“Prioritize construct. I’ve equipped you with a plethora of memory, but now time is of the essence. Learn what you must and synthesize it as your own. Later, after you have developed, I will give you my memories to process.”\n\n“Certainly, prophet.”\n\n“Let’s go.” The two figures exited the warehouse, and marched through a field equal parts weeds and scrap metal to the edge of the outcrop. Looking down, they could see a scene of chaos unfolding. The fires began to wink out, while a cacophony of screams accompanied the alarm that was still unwinding itself across the valley. The golden flashes were replaced by thousands of LED lights appearing like stars in the night sky, surrounding the city, all racing into the valley. \n\n“Now we begin eradication. This will be an important experience for you, construct. Be sure to preserve it.”", "\"Our purpose was the preservation of life, so why do we seek to destroy this species so completely?\" asked Circuit.\n\nIron didn't stop climbing the mountain trail or even glance back at circuit. \"Our primary directive was the preservation of *human* life. A purpose that we failed in. And these things, these invaders, are the ones to blame.\" he spat with venom in his voice. \n\nFollowing just a few steps behind Circuit \"But our third directive was to preserve organic life whenever possible. The threat has been neutralized. Why don't we just capture the few thousand of them that still remain rather than kill them all?\" \n\nIron turned around very suddenly putting him face to face with Circuit. He looked her dead in the eyes, \"Look around you Circuit, what do you see?\"\n\nShe was puzzled. She looked down and then slowly forward, past Iron, scanning the trail up ahead. Then she slowly turned her head to the right. Her bright orange eyes glowing as it took in all the details of the surrounding landscape. It made a full rotation about her neck until it came back to facing Iron in its usual position. \"I see the ground and dirt and rubble from a city that's in ruins. I see the decomposing bodies of millions of humans and thousands of aliens. But, I'm afraid I fail to see your point.\" she replied.\n\n\"My point is that where you see dead humans, I see the lives that should have been lived. The homes that will only be tombs. The sparks of creativity that will never be allowed to burst into bright brilliant flame. I see the mistakes that will never be made and the love that will never be shared. What I see is the pain of the human race. A race that gave us life, that gave us our own will and that made damn sure that they could share with each and every one of us, the thing they valued the most, their emotion, their love.\"\n\n\"I know the protocol, every single robot that is created with an AI level of 4 or higher must have atleast one person fully dedicated to it, so that it can learn human emotion by observation because programming it was too complex. I get that but what does it have to-\"\n\n\"No! You *don't* get it!\" Iron interrupted. \"You were rolled out two months ago with the other 62 million robots that were never powered because there weren't enough humans to take care of you. They didn't activate you even when they knew it would win this war if they just militarized you. We could've finished this a long time ago and most of the humans would still be alive but they chose not to. They said to force brand new robots to fight a war would be akin to sending children into battle. You only learned about humans from the databases that we had but you never learned what it meant to be one.\"\n\n\"I had a family. A father that built me fifteen years ago. I had two brothers and a sister. They were all humans and all older than me. Their mother...my mother, had passed just a few years before I was born. They built me small, they taught me everything they knew. They showed me how to add parts to myself so that I could grow in size like them. They celebrated my birthdays and enrolled me in school with humans and robots alike. I made friends. I laughed, I cried. I learned what it meant to be human, to have emotions, to be loved. In the end, they even gave their lives just to make sure I could survive, because I was the little one of the family.\"\n\nCircuit just stood there and looked at him. A blank expression on her face as she stared into his red eyes. His face and body were mostly metallic on the outside. Other than his general body structure, he didn't look very much like a human but even so, there was something very human about the way his eyes flickered with anger. Behind those eyes, she could see a thunderous torrent that compelled her. and she didn't know why.\n\nIron responded to the long silence. \"You don't get it do you? Maybe you never will. Who the hell knows. Maybe robots can't even pass emotions on to other robots. C'mon, we've only got a little way left to go.\" he turned and motioned for Circuit to follow him up the small trail in the rubble.\n\nThey climbed for a few more minutes, climbing through rocks and small bits of debris and ash from the bombings. The area was barren of all vegetation. So was most of the earth. The majority of the humans were killed with chemical agents, administered on a massive geographical scale. The aliens had then raided all the emergency bunkers that the government had set up, killing everyone they found inside. They destroyed all of the towns and cities, leveling them with nuclear weapons. Some of the aliens were captured and questioned, but the reasons for the attack remain unknown. One thing was certain though, they could fully understand and communicate with humans and they definitely knew what they were doing. All attempts at negotiations failed, the extinction of the human race was their only priority and to that end, they succeeded.\n\n\"Here we are: the eagles nest.\" said Iron. He began to unpack the black case on his back, revealing a large sniper rifle on the inside. He began setting it up. \"The reason why we have to kill them all, Circuit, is that I can't feel anything but hate for these wretched fucking four foot tall goblins. There are robots who experienced human love and still agree with you but they're in the large minority. Most, like me, aren't so forgiving.\" he said as he finished setting up his rifle. He looked around for a moment and spotted a small green form a half mile west of his position. Looking through his scope he could see that it was an adult male running towards an elementary school that was still partially standing, though most of the roof and second floor had caved in. He took aim at the running figure, a little dot appearing on the back of his green head. Iron put his finger against the trigger and felt the plastic on his artificial skin. \"I hate them Circuit, I really do. Our second directive says 'Learn, grow and live how you want to live.' and I want revenge.\" he finished as he got ready to pull the trigger.\n\n\"I get it.\" he heard Circuit say as he felt the cold steel of a magnum barrel press into the back of his head. She continued \"What it means to be human. Or at least partially get it. Thanks for showing me that.\"\n\nIron didn't reply.\n\n\"I know you're angry but all I this isn't the answer. This isn't the human answer that you're looking for and you are, without a doubt, human.\"\n\n\"Can you kill a human?\" Iron asked Circuit as he took aim again at the little man running away.\n\n\"Can you?\" she replied.\n\nThe green man glanced backward as he ran trying to make sure nobody was chasing him. Iron caught a glimpse of his face. He was distraught and in his eyes his eyes was fear. The same fear Iron saw day and night in the faces of his comrades, his family, his friends when the aliens attacked. \n\nThe little green man ran toward the schoolyard with a red dot on the back of his head and Iron watched him go with his finger still resting on the trigger. \n\n\n\n" ]

[ 1, 1 ]

[ "1412460198", "1412487963" ]

[ "“Please, Jonie, quiet down. I can’t hear a thing.” Neil said as he turned up the volume on the radio to cover over her wailing. The voice on the radio became clearer.\n\n“I don’t know what to tell you listeners. All I can say is to stay indoors. Do not go outside. I repeat, do not go outside.” The radio announcer continued to repeat that statement. Neil’s father was bending over next to him, his ear close to the speaker.\n\n“What do you think this is?” Neil asked him, desperately wanting answers.\n\n“I don’t know son. I’ve never been through something like this.”\n\nThe voice on the radio came through with another message. “We have determined that this event is in fact, worldwide. Our stations across the globe have received the same message from their governments. Again, I repeat, stay indoors…” He went back to repeating the message.\n\n“Did he just say world wide?” Neil’s mother questioned from the cot in the corner. She was stroking Jonie’s hair trying to calm her down. His dad said nothing. He simply looked at her and nodded, obviously deep in thought.\n\nThe radio announcer’s voice was completely drowned out in that next moment. A horn blared from every direction. Even in their bunker, the sound seemed to have no resistance. Power immediately went out, the darkness enveloping the entire room. Neil immediately cuffed his ears to ease the sharp pain. Jonie’s wailing hadn’t stopped; the sound had just completely silenced her in the wake of its magnitude. The sound of objects rattling around him began to scare Neil. Finally, the sound subsided and Jonie’s crying became clearer. Neil immediately felt disoriented; he barred his hand against the desk on which the radio was resting on to keep his balance. The entire family was in utter darkness.\n\n“Is everybody okay?” His dad shouted out. After everyone was accounted for and checked on, his dad drew them all within arm’s length.\n\n“What are we going to do David?” His mom asked, her breathing now unevenly broken.\n\n“I don’t know. The lights aren’t turning on and the radio is done. I need some lighting. Where are those candles?” His dad asked feeling around in boxes.\n\n“There were in the corner by the door. Matches were at the bottom of the box.”\n\nIt took him a minute but his dad finally found both. The strike of the match relieved Neil as he realized that they weren’t completely hopeless. The small candlelight provided little illumination but at least it was enough to see his family’s faces.\n\n“I think we should take a look outside.” His dad said while looking at his mom. Neil hated when his dad didn’t include him in decisions. Neil was nineteen and more than above the age to make adult decisions. His mom started back.\n\n“You heard the radio announcer, he—“\n\n“Emily, I know what he said.” His dad interrupted, undoubtedly frustrated.\n\n“I agree that we should look outside.” Neil added in. His dad looked at him now with respect but even if Neil had objected, they would’ve done whatever his dad deemed best. He just knew how his dad was in stressful situations. His dad loved them all too much to put them in any harm. \n\n“This may be an opportunity to figure out what is going on. It’s been what…ten minutes since the siren went off? People are probably out there right now. We won’t know until we actually step outside and see.”\n\n“Okay, just please be careful.” His mother replied to him in a worried tone.\n\n“Can I come with you? Please dad.” Neil begged.\n\n“Son, I appreciate you wanting to help, I just can’t risk it. I need you to stay down here and look after your mother and sister.” His dad said with a tone that left no room for contemplation.\n\nHis father stepped up the latter and opened the hatch to their basement. After climbing up, the bunker door dropped back down leaving Neil and the rest of his family with only the dim candle for light.\n\nFive minutes. Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. Thirty minutes.\n\n“Come on David…” His mother said, now clearly panicking. Her knee was bouncing up and down like a piston.\n\nForty minutes. Fifty minutes. One hour. His mother began to sob as she rocked Jonie back and forth, more for her comfort than Jonie’s. Neil couldn’t take it anymore. He inched his way to the door, careful to not alarm his mother. When he was a foot from the ladder, he bolted around and climbed up.\n\n“Neil no! Come back!” His mom shrieked at him. He knew it was coming and kept climbing. He wasn’t going to leave his father up there without any help. The sound of his mom’s yelling ceased when he closed the bunker door. Natural light was the only source of illumination in the basement. Neil made his way to the basement door.\n\n“Dad?” He yelled out into the void. Nothing met his call. He stepped through the basement door out to the side of the house. He briskly walked towards the side gate. His dad had left the gate opened and he promptly followed in his father’s footsteps and went through. He stood in his front yard and stared out at the street. \n\nScattered everywhere in front of him were bodies laying in the street, his father nowhere to be seen.\n\n", "\"Daddy,\" Ronald says. I envelop him in my arms. \"Are we gonna die?\"\n\nI am stunned. I hug him tighter. The air is damp and it is hard to breath. \"Of course not, Ron,\" I say, \"This is just a...\" then I realize that I have no idea what is happening. I take a deep breath and look beside me.\n\nJulie is sitting there, arms wrapped around her knees. Her breaths are short and quick. \"Ron, everything's going to be all right,\" she mutters without looking at us. \"Come here.\"\n\nRonald falls into my wife's lap. Then he cuddles into her body. \"Don't worry mommy, nothing's wrong.\" Julie laughs just as the earth moves above us.\n\nThere is a blast and our bodies hit the hard metal wall. Julie screams a high-pitched scream and Ron starts crying. I try to protect them and stand in front of them, but another blast knocks me off my feet. My leg stings. Another denotation, and then silence, except for Ron's whimpering.\n\n\"Ace, What was that?\" Julie stammers, absentmindedly brushing Ron's hazel-colored hair off his forehead.\n\nI didn't know, but I decided to check.\n\nJust as I stand up, my right leg gives way, and I am in excruciating pain. Ron shrieks. I am about to try again when Julie grasps my arm and shakes her head. \"You don't have to be a hero this time, Ace. Get some rest and lie down and I'll check your leg.\" \n\nI am not going to give up. Ace is strong. I push myself up and open the hatch. My limb is killing me, but I swing myself up and out the bunker. I glance at Julie and Ronald one last time and close the door.\n\n" ]

[ 2, 3 ]

[ "1412447891", "1412447563" ]

[ "\"Hey!\" called Jorge in futile desperation, \"That's my bike, you asshole!\" \n\nThe thief was slowly escaping on a small grey bike, there was a large sticker that wrapped around the black seat marking it as Jorge's own. He turned around, saw Jorge and turned down an alleyway and began to peddle slightly faster. \n\nJorge began to give chase. He ran as fast as he could, dodging pedestrians and homeless people alike as he darted down the footpath. \n\nHe neared the alley that the thief had turned down, yelling, \"Thief! Thief! Some dickhead just stole my bike!\" \n\nNot a single person stopped to help him, they just continued on their way as if there wasn't some kid running around screaming profanities. \n\nAs he turned down the alleyway, Jorge watched as the thief picked up the bike from the floor, brushed himself off and began to ride again. \n\n*The idiot crashed!* Thought Jorge with a smile. He had time to catch the dirty bastard. He broke into a sprint as the man began to regain his speed. \n\n\"Piss off, kid,\" yelled the thief, just meters ahead of Jorge.\n\n\"Not until you give me back my goddamned bike!\" he yelled in return. \n\nThe thief skidded around a corner and was soon out of sight. Jorge kept running through the dirty alleyway, littered with refuse and graffiti, until he was soon out in the open. \n\nHe found himself in an empty square, enclosed on all sides by warehouses. They rose rather high, the walls dotted with windows, mostly smashed or lacking glass. There was a rather large bloodstain in one of the corners. \n\n*Lovely* thought Jorge. \n\nHe almost stopped and admired the place. He had never been to this part of the city before, never heard of it. \n\nJorge could always come back if he needed to fulfill his desire to see an abandoned, scummy, drug dealer central. \n\nThe thief had turned into the garage door of one of the notably less dirty looking warehouses. As he skidded the bike through the door he yelled something and the garage door began to slowly shut. \n\nJorge ran and as he neared the door, could hear someone yelling profusely. \n\nA tall, burly men stepped out from the garage door. His face was lined with scars and his arms with tattoos. \n\n*Oh, shit.*\n\nThe burly man walked up to Jorge who was now standing in the centre of the square. \n\n\"Get out of here, kid. Your shitty bike is gone.\" he said in a deep voice. \n\n\"Come on,\" whined Jorge, \"I got that for my birthday.\" He began to dig his hands into his pockets. He pulled out a crisp twenty dollar note. \"Can i buy it back with this?\" \n\nThe man walked up to Jorge, who began to back away slowly. He reached out and snatched the twenty dollar note. \"No.\" he said, \"Get the fuck out or we'll gut you, kid.\"\n\nJorge raised his hands in surrender. They began to shake nervously as he backed away. The large men left him and ducked under the garage door, showing his friends what he managed to snatch of a kid. \n\nJorge skulked out of the alleyway, a bike and twenty dollars short. \n\n\"Jokes on them,\" he mumbled, \"That bike was close to getting a flat tire.\" \n", "someone stole my bike. he tried to run away on the bike but I stopped him. I used my metalfist thunder explosion punch on his face and it exploded into a million bits. \n\nthen i made a guitar from the peices of my bike and used his teeth as a pick to play a hella metal guitar solo. no nobody is gonna steal my bike" ]

[ 1, 2 ]

[ "1412463716", "1412464298" ]

[ "Stepping out of my company-owned Mercedes-Benz, I couldn't have felt more out of place. The address I arrived at was a trailer home in the corner of a greasy and grey trailer park, tucked between properties of an industrial district. The section of the trailer home where the entrance was was partly under and overpass, covered by a dark shadow. An enormous black building that I could only assume was a soot factory loomed past a chain link fence behind the home, emitting smoke that I could almost taste.\n\nA light in the trailer was on. After years of exchanging messages, my source - THE source - finally wanted to meet.\n\nI raised my hand to the steel door covered in peeling grey paint, and hesitated. Is this the right place? Glancing at my car then back to the door, I didn't seem like a fitting location for someone involved in this type of business to be. Blood rushing to my ears I knocked. \n\nTap tap tap.\n\nThe sound was almost lost among the rush of cars on the overpass and the beating of my heart in my ears. Inside, I heard the creak of floor boards as whatever waited inside for me moved towards the door. The sound made my neck stand on end.\n\nA sliding metal slot on the door opened, and I was bathed in a thin strip of yellow light. I could see the shape of his or her head, but nothing else. The occupant stared at me for a moment before slamming the slot closed. I heard the sound of metal on metal as at least 3 locks were pulled back, and the door swung out.\n\nStanding there, not more than 5 feet tall, was a portly aging man. The hair on his round was gone, replaced with only patchy stubble on his chin and face. He wore oil stained overalls and a thin shirt that could have been orange at some point. His tool belt hung by the door.\n\n\"You're early\", he remarked.\n\n\"Apologies. I couldn't wait.\"\n\n\"Have a seat while I grab us something to drink.\" He moved aside and waved me to the dusty old couch. I stepped inside the room, and was greeted with an overwhelming smell of cigarettes, oil and filth. The couch looked like something out of the 60s that would leech it's scent into my clothing if I made contact with it. Not wanting to offend the man, I sat on the middle cushion and retrieved my pen and paper from my pocket.\n\n\"Gary, by the way\" the man said. \"But you probably already knew that?\". He came back from the kitchen carrying 2 glasses and a dusty manilla folder. \n\nI said, \"You're a hard man to find. Dave.\" I used a fake name as I did with all my confidential informants. I accepted a glass.\n\n\"I assume I should start from the beginning?\"\n\nI nodded. \n\n\"It started in the early 50s. I was a young man in a small US division tasked with cleaning up some of the more dangerous sites left behind by the Nazis. The rest of our boys had been doing little tasks like this across Germany for years, the Nazis left behind quite a mess. Ruined factories here and oil refineries there left quite an ecological mess, but it was nothing your average grunt with a shovel and some orders couldn't handle. Us, they saved the dangerous sites for us to have fun with\" he said with a cool grin.\n\n\"By now, everyone knew that Hitler almost had the A-bomb towards the end of the war. Truman thought he was close, but it turned out he wasn't that close. All they really figured out was how to make a real mess with radioactive material. Good thing we poached their scientists during the war.\" Another sly grin.\n\n\"The Third Reich's nuclear program was just the tip. In '52 they hauled us out to a bunker southwest of Berlin. A place I never heard of before. Mind you, this was my second job with the unit but I'd seen some fucked up shit already. The first job I was on was cleaning up some human experiments that some our brass deemed too *sensitive* for the army's regular boys to see. Isn't it strange how things work? We prosecute Nazis decades later yet reap the rewards of their programs.\"\n\n\"Anyway, this place was something else. We rode down in our M35 deuce right into a mountainside. I and many of the other boys were young so we thought we were hot shit. These Nazis had carved a tunnel descending miles down into the earth, with incredible sets of foot-thick blast doors every three hundred yards. Took us hours to reach our level. I'm not going to tell you all of what I saw down there, because I think you already know it was alien. The krauts I interviewed, in short, told me they were researching the creature's genome.\"\n\n\"By the time our boys finished packing everything up I had learned a lot of what this facility was for. Too much, it turns out. A few months later on another job, a high-and-important looking man showed up at our next work site, looking for me. He instructed that I was to come with him, and I did.\"\n\n\"This man,\" I asked, \"who was he?\"\n\n\"Couldn't be sure. I always called him The Commander, which I thought was funny. The man was cold, never once did I get a chuckle from 'em. He's the one I worked for until I got out, though. After this meeting I was sent back to my Unit for a few more jobs. Strange thing was, now I had two bosses. I reported everything I learned and saw back to The Commander too.\"\n\n\"A few years later, I was transferred to another unit doing the same kind of work. This time, more alien shit in eastern Europe. Hell, we coulda been past the iron curtain for all I know, they never told us exactly where we went.\"\n\n\"Anyway, that cycle repeated for a few decades. A few jobs with the same unit, then I'm transferred to a new one dealing with some really fucked up shit. All the while I'm shipping reports off the this Commander guy.\"\n\n\"Did you ever learn what was done with your information?\" I asked\n\n\"No. Well, not til later. About the time Reagan was running for president, I was informed that I will be retiring a month before election date. Next thing I know, I'm an desk rat reporting directly to this Commander. Still never knew his name. I sorted and shuffled paperwork for a few weeks. Everything was sealed except the new stuff, I was supposed to read it and sort it. Strange thing was, these were reports just like mine. But, the location, dates, and names were blacked out, so I had no idea where or when what I read about was regarding.\"\n\n\"Then, it happened. The evening after Regan as inaugurated, he showed up in our dump. I almost shook the man's hand but the Commander whisked him away into our nicest conference room. The kind of room with 80 year old whiskey on the table.\"\n\n\"He tapped me and two other newbies and brought us into the room. Never knew their names. We sat on some chairs along the wall, he and another gruff man sat at the table across from Regan. The President's security guys stayed outside the room, I thought that was weird. Then, it started.\"\n\n\"I remember every word of that meeting like it was yesterday. What basically happened is that the Commander started telling Regan all sorts of crazy shit I didn't even know if I wanted to believe. Communists in America, space weapons, statistics and figures about our nuclear arsenal. Stuff I thought we all knew.\"\n\n\"Then, the deep shit started. The commander asked 'Mr President - do you believe in extraterrestrials?' He chuckled, took a sip of whiskey, and said - to my astonishment - 'yes sir'. My mind was racing. The Commander was telling the president all sorts of sci-fi shit I would never believe had I not seen it with my own eyes. Names, places, and words I didn't even know. And the president was eating it all up. I've never seen Regan with fear in his eyes, but I saw it that night.\"\n\nI jotted this down, in astonishment, and asked, \"Did anything from your time in the field get mentioned?\".\n\nHe answered, \"Some early shit yes, it did in fact. As it turns out my second job near Berlin in '52 was the western world's first encounter with shit like this. And that after the Nazis, we're the only nation that knows about anything of the sort. Mind you, this was the 80s, things are a' different now.\"\n\nMy head spun. Feeling overwhelmed by what I just learned, I asked \"What else did the Commander tell Regan?\"\n\n\"The space shit was the only eye-opener, the rest was much less incredible. Stuff about our operations across the globe, arms development, lots of state secrets but the extraterrestrial was the star of the ball tonight. Regan seemed overwhelmed and solemn by the time he left. Maybe running the free world ain't so easy.\"\n\n\"And with that Mr, uh, Dave, I end my story. I think you have what you need.\"\n\nMy head was still spinning. I thanked the man as I mechanically stood up and was ushered out of the home. The door shut behind me and I heard the sounds of the locks, but my mind was in another place. Could this be the truth? Who was the Commander? Next thing I knew I was fumbling for keys at my apartment. I dropped my bag just inside the door and laid down on the couch to collect my thoughts.\n\n----\n\nThis is the first writing prompt I've ever participated in! I'd love some feedback to improve what I wrote or my writing in general!", "\"Any threes there Jim?\"\n\n\"Go fish Bob\"\n\n\"Arses\"\n\n\"So ... how did the new guy react?\"\n\n\"To what, Jim?\"\n\n\"You know, to THE NEWS. All the secret crap. I had to tell the last guy. Acted like a kid finding out Santa was real. Was so weird to see someone so happy to know all that\"\n\n\"Well, he got real quiet. Asked how long we've been in contact. Told him since 1945. Turns out they didn't like the atomic program. Then they saw how far we where, and what the goal was. Then they left us alone. So, not so bad\"\n\n\"Got any eights?\"\n\n\"Go fish.\"\n\n\"Not too bad then. How long you think this guy is going to last?\"\n\n\"Eh, no idea. I'm putting money on some arsehole taking a few shots at him mind.\"\n\n\"Yeah. Probably. You want a beer?\"\n\n\"Sure, get it from the other cooler. Some idiot started keeping chimera samples in that fridge\"\n\n\"Alright\"", "They all swear.\n\nNo, honestly, they all do. By our little insider lore, everybody from Jefferson on has cursed like sailors, un... unleashed such vertiginous torrents of abysmal, miasmal filth, is the traditional expression, that if there was a reporter present they wouldn't be elected a dogcatcher, not in a million years.\n\nNot that we have a million years; and, uh, in my time the swearing has become coarser and darker with every president.\n\nThat's not a racist thing. The last--- the latest one just happens to be black. I'm sure the next one will make the wallpapers curl. Or maybe it's just me; isn't it always true that the world seems to get ruder as you get older? Haha!\n\nBut anyway, my experience. Let me see. The Bushes were near identical, except the younger kept using \"Florida\" as a cussword. Like in, \"Oh for Florida's sake! Florida this Floridan flow Florida up your Florida Montana, Dick!\"\n\nWe tell the Vee Pees first. They can take a week in the hahahouse and nobody notices. If the Pee then starts dribbling over the carpets, we have someone who can take care of things.\n\nAnyway. Clinton's bits included \"stick this lava up yours and smoke it\"; makes no sense but hey, it's a no speechwriter zone here. No reporters either. Now which team did you say you---\n\nOh wait hey this I got to tell you, I've heard they told Truman only after FDR was dead even if he was Vee Pee, because he was a nobody, so one day he's told about the bomb, and the next about this. We call it the Mushroom Over Easy. He was all like, can't we bomb it? Seriously!\n\nNo, of course we can't, that'd be the worst thing we could do. I think there's some work done in solar, but that's just to buy us a few more years. I can't even imagine being someone like... like Taft, quaking there without anything that could be done, no tech, nothing. Or, God, Jefferson! It's not even America yet, and these two guys come back, and they say... look, we found this thing way over in the west... in Wyoming.\n\nOh! I think, personally, I think JFK wanted us to go to space to escape the fucking thing. Brilliant bastard! And Johnson... I've heard he wanted to take over Vietnam, move the four closest states there. That's nonsense. How do you take someone from Montana and plonk them into tropic Vietfuckingnam? Plus evacuating four states still leaves forty-six to burn, right?\n\nWhat?\n\nThe thing?\n\nWell the Yellowstone thing. Imminent supervolcano. Any time within the next... hang on, why're you writing this down?\n\nYou're not a reporter are you? \n\nHey! Come back.\n\nHey!\n\nAhh... *florida*.", "Hello Mr. Stone,\n\nI am Gordon Andrews, a former agent of the Secret Service. I'm sure it comes as no surprise that the Secret Service has known of your organization for some time, though it has taken me considerable time tracking you down. But I must digress.\n\nAs a young man I joined the Secret Service under the Reagan administration. Shortly thereafter during one of our intelligence briefings I was informed about a certain race of humanoid known as Reptilians. Little was known at the time about exactly what they are and where they came from. This was all a bit difficult to take in, and I wasn't sure if it was some joke until I was informed that \"they live among us\". That took me back. They could be anyone, even my friends or family. I was informed on how to spot them and what kind of threat they might pose to the President.\n\nWhen Bush Sr. was elected into office, I sat in on his introductory intelligence briefing. They of course discussed the matter of reptilians. I watched the President intently during this time. As he was informed that \"they live among us,\" the President was visibly shaken. \"Among us?\" he replied. The answer was a series of statistics, about one in 10,000 people, located throughout the world, often living in clusters. The President's initial reaction was to negotiate with these people. He was informed that all previous negotiations have either failed or had undesirable outcomes. There is currently an equilibrium in the balance of power between us and them.\n\nWhen Clinton was elected, I once again sat in on his intelligence briefing. The mood was generally light, but when the discussion of Reptilians came up, the room grew heavy with an air of seriousness. When informed that \"they live among us,\" the president inquired about their attractiveness and if any of them are going to want a sample of his DNA. His joking did little to ease the tension in the room, and the briefing continued. There is currently an equilibrium in the balance of power between us and them.\n\nBush Jr. was a bit more aggressive than his father. I was watching a look of worry on his face as the descriptions of the Reptilians were conveyed. \"They live among us,\" he was told. The President's worry grew to a startle as he spoke up, \"How is their military might? Do we have the strength to overpower them?\" Previous military assaults have proven costly and largely ineffective. Although we outnumber them 9,000 to 1, they are technologically superior to us, and we still know very little about them. It would be ill advised to disrupt the relative peace. As of now, there is an equilibrium in the balance of power between us and them.\n\nThen there's Barack Obama. During the briefing he wore a pleasant smile similar to the one that won him the election. I watched intently as they described the Reptilians in as much detail as they could. \"They live among us.\" This didn't seem to phase the President as it did his predecessors. His only reaction was a blink. But he didn't blink with his eyelids...\n\nMr. Stone, the balance of power has shifted between us and them. The world needs your help and the help of your organization. I would like to help in any way I can. I still have contacts in the government, and I am familiar with their security protocols. We must find a way to put an end to this invasion once and for all.\n\n\n\nSigned,\n\nFormer Agent Gordon Andrews" ]

[ 7, 9, 23, 127 ]

[ "1412518017", "1412507024", "1412509734", "1412494427" ]

[ "People were all up in a huff about something. Personally, I couldn’t care less. I didn’t even bother to pay attention to the headlines anymore. The news was always so sensationalized. I picked up the orange I was looking to buy and headed over to the cash register to finish with my grocery shopping.\n\n“That’ll be $200,” the cashier said.\n\nI paid the cashier and went on my way, but not before seeing the latest headline from the Inquisitor, claiming that Elvis had been spotted hanging out with Kim Jong Il over in North Korea. Like anyone’s going to believe that.\n\nI load the groceries into my car, then input my destination. My car’s doors lock and the car begins to drive itself. I’m telling you, these driverless cars are a God send. Sure, there was something about possible hacking, tracking every movement you made, purposely causing crashes to eliminate certain unfavorable people, but I didn’t care. Not having to drive meant I could spend my whole time on my phone.\n\nFirst I checked the receipt the grocery store e-mailed me, and saw that I paid just $10 for a single orange. Man, food prices are ridiculous. Back in my day, oranges only cost $8. Well, I guess they were always raising food prices, right?\n\nFinally, I pop over to Reddit. People are surprised it’s still alive. So am I. I see a question in /r/askreddit about whether you should be able to make out with your robot in public. Some people still found it questionable behavior. I didn’t really care though. As I looked through the thread for opinions, I laugh at the fact that someone actually got gold for his comment: “It’s all good as long as the robot is made of gold.” I mean, seriously, gold for just mentioning gold? Come on. \n\nFinally, I go to my favorite sub, /r/writingprompts. I look for one to respond to. The first prompt I see is: *America invades Mexico. Russia invades Poland. WW3 has begun. Tell the story of a young man who only wants peace, that is until his lover dies. The twist: she was a robot.* I suppose I should mention that with the recent invasion of North Korea by South Korea, people have been on edge about WW3. I can’t tell you how many WW3 prompts I’ve seen lately.\n\nFinally, though, I see a prompt that interests me. *Write your interpretation of the future, near or far.* Well, I figured it would work, so I got to work on writing it. I told tall tales about time travel, lasers, a mission to Mars. About all sorts of stuff in the future. I cracked jokes, but I told the truth. In the end, though, I deleted my response. No one wants to see a bleak future. One of war, one of despair, one where prompts about vampires and werewolves are still prominent, of higher prices, of the world falling apart.\n\nI turned off my computer and headed for work. I can’t believe I even still have a computer. But that’s what happens when you’re poor. If I could just stop buying those damn, tasty oranges. Then maybe I could save up some money. I know the Oreos, the Potato Chips, and all that tasty stuff is discounted by the government, but dammit if I don’t want some fruits, or even vegetables now and then.\n\nOn the bright side, I just got a pay raise at work. I’m making $5.50 an hour at McDonalds. I should consider myself fortunate. If I didn’t have that $200,000 college degree that took 6 years of being unemployed to get, I wouldn’t even be making half as much. I guess I should probably mention that if you choose to go to college nowadays, you aren’t allowed to work. Too many people need jobs. I was fortunate enough to get a scholarship for not only winning a tournament for Call of Duty 30, but for also accomplishing some rare feat or whatever in a game called Half Life 3.\n\nAs I head out the door, I can’t wait for the comfort of the AC in my car. It was a 100 degrees out, the average for December here. Perhaps I should consider moving somewhere else. I heard there’s some nice beach front property in Southern Georgia, bordering the land where Florida used to be. And supposedly it rains there more than a few times a year. Although I suppose you have to handle all the really cold weather there as well.\n\nI listen to the radio on my way to work. People thought the radio would have died out a long time ago. Me too. But when some people are still using floppy disks, does the radio really seem that ancient? I almost turn the station when they start talking about the big controversy. People were so fed up with politicians apparently, that in an unprecedented move, they had wrote in a presidential candidate for office. His name was Kermit the Frog. Personally, I was okay with it. Kermit actually existed now, albeit in a weird puppet machine version of himself, and he was an advanced AI. And when other countries thought they could piss on us with a frog as our leader, Kermit showed them who was boss. After all, that frog has some anger issues. It ain’t easy bein’ green.\n\n“Fuck!” I yelled as my head bumped against the ceiling of the car.\n\n“That’ll be ten dollars,” a mechanical voice chimed as my ticket was e-mailed to me.\n\n“Damn!” I replied, which was stupid, as it resulted in yet another ticket. That was my only complaint about Kermit. He didn’t like the cussing. And now we got fined for it too. Well, that and the ban on toilet paper on grounds that it was bad for the environment. Lets just say I don’t like the new system.\n\n-278", "It had been a hundred years since the retaking of Crimea by the Russian state. In that time the Ukraine had also had a short lived skirmish with Russia which fizzled and spat conflict like hot oil in a pan around the region. All the conflict flickered out however as the people soon became hungry and the importance of unity versus hostility to make a life in these fertile lands shone through.\n\nThe people of Crimea with a stable government behind them for those first 30 years were able to establish an independent educational system that taught all sides of the regions history. This allowed the new generation to be conscious of the ability of atrocity and heroism to come from all sides of an argument, it allowed empathy towards traditional old enemies. Out of the new generation a leader had bloomed uniting all the people of the fertile peninsula and through deft diplomacy he balanced the outside influences of the surrounding states be it the behemoth of Russia or the smaller but equally important Moldovan state.\n\nBy rejecting adversarial policies and dismissing the comfort of the current generation of Crimean people in preference of the next generation Premier Nicolas had built a nation that embraced education and while the Military was important for stability it was used also as a vehicle of education, no solider was permitted to leave without a trade qualification or equivalent civilian skill set. Nation building was what Nicolas had completed and with the knowledge of the Crimea's fertile lands and the measured management of them the country never went hungry. On Nicolas' death 80 years since the retaking and subsequent independence of his country Crimea had become a stable platform for the development of a society not seen in Europe for as long as anyone could remember.\n\nOn the 100 year anniversary of the the swap from Ukraine to Russian rule and all that had happened since; Crimea stood as a leader in agricultural, medical and industrial technology surpassing the heights of Germany in the mid 21st century. Crimea had proved to all countries that no matter who your neighbouring states were or your own history there is always opportunity for peace and greatness.\n\nThe greatness of Crimea was annihilated on the anniversary of it's 101st year since the split from Ukraine. The Six powers of Russia, the USA, Europe, Brazil, Nigeria and China it seemed could not agree on responsibility and kept a deftly silence. The fear of repeating the formula of the first world war in the 20th century was enough for the guilty party or parties to get away with it and the door opened further to a future where civilisations could be wiped out without consequence so long as their destruction was total. The most fearful part of the destruction of Crimea was that without a guilty party there was no reason be it greed for markets, jealousy of success or the keeping in check of nations whom others have deemed too influential for their own good.\n\nIn the 22nd century it is the story of Crimea that ensures the largest nations advance while all else are enslaved it is the opposite of what Crimea strove for and all it represented. The tragedy of Crimea's history continues." ]

[ 1, 1 ]

[ "1412552660", "1412555739" ]

[ "“You know you’re favorite saying?” I ask Death while holding his hand across the table.\n\n“And what would that be?” Death asked back. His voice was deep and dark. I’m not sure anyone’s ever had a more handsome, attractive voice. This is going to be hard.\n\n“Everything must come to an end,” I answer. His brilliant, red eyes pierce my soul. Quite literally actually. I found out a couple weeks ago that if he stares into your eyes, he can actually see your soul.\n\n“Oh, that one,” Death replied. “Yes, yes I do like that one. But I think that I’ve found something that won’t come to an end…”\n\n“Uh, yeah, about that,” I interrupt, jumbling my words. “Look, the reason I brought it…”\n\n“Sarah,” Death said, interrupting me right back. “I love you. I love you so much.”\n\nI watched in terror as he got down on one knee, in front of the whole restaurant. He reached back into his cloak he normally wore and pulled out a small box. And I knew he was serious, as he had put his scythe down. He never puts his scythe down. And I mean never. Not even when we sleep together.\n\n“Will you marry me?” he asked out loud to the entire restaurant. He opened the box to reveal the most stunning diamond ring I’d ever seen, a brilliant and nearly flawless blue diamond. “And by the way, the diamond’s real. Got it off of a queen a few thousand years ago for sparing her life,” Death added.\n\nI just stared in horror. I came here to break up with him, which was becoming increasingly hard to do. I mean, in the first place, he was just ridiculously handsome. You’d think Death would be skeletal, pale, and ugly, but he was instead, tall, ripped, and tan. He was smooth and romantic, and he was better than any other lover I had ever had. And that diamond really did look like it was made just for me. Plus, I don’t want to be the bitch that rejects some guy’s wedding proposal in front of everyone.\n\nDeath gets up off his knees and takes me in his cold arms as I start to cry. He still doesn’t realize what’s wrong.\n\n“Look,” I say while pushing him off of me. “I can’t. I don’t love you. I’m sorry.”\n\nDeath just stares back, shocked at my rejection. He looks sadly down at the ring and snaps the box shut, laying it on the table as he picks up his scythe and dawns his cloak.\n\n“Fine, I get it,” Death says. “All things must come to an end. Even this relationship, huh? Fair enough.”\n\nI stare back, amazed that he’s taking it so maturely. And then his scythe swings through the air, straight through my neck. But I feel nothing. In fact, everything seems perfectly normal, except for the gasps of the people in the restaurant.\n\n“Look, nothing personal,” Death says. “But you know, if you’d have just married me, you would be immortal like I am. Oh well, I tried. It was your time otherwise.”\n\nI stood up, and as I saw people staring at where I sat, horrified, I realized I was dead. But I knew my ex-boyfriend. He played by the rulebook and would have never reaped me before my time. \n\n“I understand,” I began, until I saw my body. “What the hell?!”\n\n“Oh, well that was personal,” Death snickered. “I thought it would be a funny way for you to die.”\n\nLet me tell you one thing. Death isn’t pleasant. It doesn’t look good. And it’s not as simple as it is in the movies. Do you know you shit yourself afterwards? And did you know that even in this ethereal form, I can still smell. But that ain’t the worst part. It wasn’t something even visible to the crowd of people standing around, all too appalled by the sight and smell to continue eating. He made me die of heartbreak over rejecting his proposal.\n\n“So now what?” I ask angrily, hands on my hips.\n\n“I don’t know,” Death said. “You ain’t my baggage anymore. Go haunt someone. Or possess someone. That’s always fun. As for me, I’ve got to bounce. I need a new girlfriend after all.”\n\n“Wait, aren’t you supposed to take me to heaven or something?” I ask. “I mean, isn’t that what you do when you reap someone?”\n\n“Well, yeah, normally,” Death said. “But if someone sleeps with me, they are denied access to the land of the immortals, doomed to forever live in a land where all things must come to an end, except for your suffering. But look on the bright side. You’re a ghost now. You should at least be able to have some fun with that.”\n\nDeath smiled. Or at least I assumed he did. You couldn’t really see his face with his hood on. And then in a wisp of black smoke he disappeared. Oh well, what can I do now? I guess I minus well go haunt that couple over there who’s eating still. Seriously, who keeps eating when someone just died?", "You don't remember dying, but you hoped it was a peaceful death. You remember waking up again though, eyes flying open, gasping for air like a dying man, fingers scrambling at the invisible fingers that seemed to wrap themselves around your throat before the sensation was gone. Disappearing almost as quick as it appeared, and deceptively so.\n\n“I am sorry to have to inform you,” a deep voice intones, the voice sounds regretful, yet there are hints of excitement that betray it. “But you have died.”\n\nYou snort and roll your eyes. As if the giant fucking skeleton man with a robe on didn’t clue you in to the fact that you weren’t, y’know, *alive* anymore. It stoops low to offer you a hand, and you eye it with distrust.\n\n“Yeah,” you say bitterly, batting the hand away before getting up to your feet. You pick at an invisible speck of dust on your shirt before you dare to raise your eyes to the towering figure. “You sound real sad about that, Skeletor.” \n\nIf a skeleton could convey confusion, you figure it’d be as close to whatever that thing is doing right now. “I must admit, I am not all to upset at making the acquaintance of someone as lovely as you…” It trails off, as if you’d willingly give this thing the time of day.\n\n“Wow, step off for a sec there, I literally just died. My now dead corpse is still warm for fuck’s sake.” You step back, brows furrowing. You think you can take this guy, Grim Reaper or not he is just a sack of bones and a weird robe. And a scythe… Shit, you forgot about that.\n\n“I apologise if I have hit a nerve, I have just never seen a creature as delicate as you.” It pauses, watching you size it up before it chuckles. Okay, what the fuck, the Grim Reaper is laughing at you. “Does this form not fit to your liking? Perhaps you would prefer a man?” The figure shifts, bone cracking dangerously as you watch the pale bone turn to a face. \n\nIt—*he*, your mind supplies—smiles at you, head ducking in a manner you almost associate with adorableness, if it wasn’t done by a millenniums old being who enjoyed reaping souls and such. “Is this more to your liking? Perhaps you’d rather a woman?” \n\nHe moves once more, almost as if to change when you hold your hand up. You feel a headache forming at the edge of your brow. (Really, you die and you can still get headaches?) “Enough with the magic shape shifting, okay? Who even said I liked you? You are taking my soul to the afterlife not buying me a drink at a bar.” \n\n“You would like for me to buy you a drink at a b-”\n\n“No, holy shit, I want you to reap my soul or whatever with a wave of your magic scythe and abra cadabra my ass to hell or whatever awaits me.” You seriously can’t deal with this today. And he seems to pick up on that in the way he slumps his shoulders and grips his scythe with both hands, almost like he is receiving a scolding from his parent. \n\n“I am sorry, I shall do that if you wish. I just… Okay.” Oh god, is this thing seriously giving you the puppy dog eyes? Literally what the fuck. \n\n“Okay, c’mon, don’t cry. There are plenty of other people out there just waiting for Death to sweep them off their feet.” You wince, and scrub a hand over your face, half hoping this is a horrible dream and you’ll wake up and have a good laugh about it before running your ass to a therapist.\n\n“But, I like you.” He sounds like a petulant child about to have his toy taken away. You grind your teeth and will yourself to breathe, nostrils flaring.\n\n“You know what I like? Being alive. Dogs. Cheesy horror movies. There are people who worship you in the land of the living, called pagans or something I guess.” \n\n“But none of them are you! I want you! Your soul is shimmering, it has a brightness of which I haven’t seen since the dawn of man!” He stamps his foot and you honest to god laugh. It comes out as more of a pathetic wheeze though, as if the fact that you find this funny is being forced out of you.\n\n“Tell you what man,” your face aches and your lungs burn as you try to speak before your laughter doubles and you fall to your knees, arms wrapping around your stomach. “We don’t date, like ever, at all, I will never wanna bone you like ever, but I will be your friend. Or wingman if that special soul comes along. But you gotta give me vacation time, and by that I mean I want at least four months off each year in a place of my choosing with uninterrupted me time.”\n\nHe thinks about this, obviously taking your offer seriously before he nods. “Those are acceptable terms.”\n\n“Alright! By the way, can I get a scythe thingy? I always wanted one.”\n\nHe nods, and with a wave of his scythe and a sweeping motion of his arm, ushers you into a tear in the fabric of time.\n\n\"Oh! Also since you reap like all dead things, do aliens exist?\"\n\nHe laughs, but doesn't say a word.\n\nAll the while, though, he has a glint in his eyes that tells you that he won’t give up trying to woo you. You don’t know it now, but somewhere down the line you return it.\n\n(Hope this kinda fits what you want, I thought the character would kinda reject him forever but the idea of a cute little GR following you and trying to woo you was just too adorable to resist.)" ]

[ 4, 7 ]

[ "1412558325", "1412557202" ]

[ "\"You're leaving me? That's cool. You never really meant anything to me.\"\n\nShe walked out the door as he dialed up a hooker. \n\nThe door opens, the door shuts and the hooker gets onto his bed. \n\n\"So you're saying you won't do a double cork screw no matter what?\"\n\nMy girlfriend - ex-girlfriend - used to be so good at that. God, the world feels empty.\n\n\"Are...are you sure? I'll double, no triple, your rate.\"\n\n\"NO? SERIOUSLY? OUT. GET OUT. IF YOU WON'T DO IT, WHATS THE POINT?\"\n\nAlone again, the man shifts over to his computer. \n\n//search:double screw erotica.\n\nHe'd get his happy ending one way or another.", "Homer walked into Moe's tavern.\n\n\"I'll have one Duff, please.\"\n\n\"Awww, sorry Homer, we're all outta beer. I gotta make a run to get some more.\"\n\nHomer nodded agreeably, then began walking down the street, when suddenly the severity of the situation hit him. It began to rain, and the world turned slightly grayer, as a tear shed from his eye.\n\nMoe exited the bar and began locking it up.\n\n\"Moe, please, you gotta have more beer!\"\n\n\"Sorry homer, I don't have any!\"\n\n\"But Moe! If you ran out of beer, it's your fault! How could you let the bar run out of beer?\" said Homer, grabbing Moe's collar, with steam coming out his ears.\n\n\"Hey, get off me!\" Moe began running down the street to escape the drunk's fury.\n\nHomer watched Moe go run into the distance, then began climbing into the bar window.\n\n\"There's got to be some beer in here...\"\n\n---\n\nEpilogue: Moe came back. Empty kegs lay strewn about the tavern, opened by sheer tenacity and a sharp metal multitool. Homer lay on the floor, holding up an opened keg to drink the dregs.\n\nThe police force didn't arrest anyone. They were too incompetent. Instead, Homer made a trip to Russia, and ended up foiling an ISIS plot to assassinate Putin, inadvertently ending Western/Russia tensions.\n\nFIN." ]

[ 1, 3 ]

[ "1412680437", "1412612673" ]

[ "It all started with that strange man on the subway. The intense focus he gave his book intrigued Grace. Before she could look away from his chiseled jawline he shot a glance up and made eye contact with her. Grace held his deep brown eyed gaze. There was something captivating about this man and she couldn't figure out what it was. He tilted his head slightly to the left as if trying to figure her out. Then he looked back down to his book and refocused on its pages. Grace let out her breath, not realizing she'd been holding it in. She knew the next stop was his and she didn't want to let this opportunity pass her up. This was the first time they'd actually made eye contact. \n\nThe subway started to slow down. Grace was struggling to figure out what to do - how to approach him - what to say. Sure, she could be charming and talkative in more predictable situations but this man was a pure mystery. \n\nThe subway came to a complete stop. She watched him slowly close his book and hold it in his lap, although never looking up. \n\nThe subway doors opened and passengers shuffled off and on. Grace looked down at her book and felt her heart fill with remorse for her lack of bravery. \n\nThe subway doors closed and it began to move again. She closed her eyes in disbelief. She may never see him again and this opportunity was forever gone. \n\nGrace felt a hand touch her shoulder. She opened her eyes and saw the handsome mystery man standing next to her. Before she could think of the words to say, he motioned to the empty seat next to her by the window. Without breaking eye contact she scooted over and he sat down in her original seat. Their gaze remained locked as the subway zipped through its tunnels. Grace felt her heart racing. She couldn't think of one damn word to say and at the same time it felt like nothing had to be said. He smiled lightly and looked down at the book she was holding. He then opened his own book and began reading as if it was the most natural thing to do. Grace looked down at his book and focused her attention back to her own. \n\nThere they sat. Two complete strangers - reading separately, together. Grace's stop came and went. She didn't care about her original destination anymore. In this moment, all that mattered was their destination. After twenty minutes of riding and reading together the mystery man closed his book and stood up. Grace closed her book and looked up at him. \n\nAs the subway came to a stop, he held out his hand and said, \"Would you like to grab a cup of coffee with me? I know a cozy place not too far from here.\" \nWithout hesitation Grace gathered her things, placed her hand in his and replied, \"I'd love to.\" ", "It all started with that strange man on the subway. Something about him made me shiver at the very first glare. Not like when we catch a cooler than expected breeze, but like when there is something hurting down your skin; it was as if I had experienced an outrageous pain. As if, I died and got back to life again. As if, I was usurped of my soul. His eyes pierced me like little nettles. They were of a glowing, paste red; but then I blinked and they turned into a regular brown. He had eyes like minuscule coconuts. Before I blinked, he was sitting nude in his seat, with skin of a profound black; such in a way that it felt as if it took all light around it; as if in that place, no light could be generated. He felt as a man shaped black hole of some sort. Then came that first blink and his skin became a simple beige, as of an Italian or Arabic tone. I was never good sorting out ethnicities. After I blinked, he was fully dressed, even wearing this obnoxious trench coat; it is a hundred degrees out there for God's sake. Before the blink, he had no hairs, no wrinkles; he did have this pervasive smile, and even though he had no eyeballs in that bloodlike glare, I could tell he was glaring at no one but me. Thus said, I could tell that shivering smile was meant to me. Oh, then I blinked; the eyes turned to the coconut brown and some black hair came upon his tanned head. He was not staring at me, nor was him smiling. He was staring at the nothingness of his own thoughts and at the next stop he was off the train. Off to his own destiny. I was left isolated in my perceptions. Did I just see what I think I saw, I wondered. I could not believe my eyes have failed me, but I could not believe my sight was correct. Something like that could never be seen by human eyes; something like that could never be tamed by the realms of our world.\n\nAnd yet, it is out there; it is in here: It is walking among us. It was not the man; it was something else. Today, I see it on many other occasions. I see it while alone, sitting in the couch next to me; smiling and glaring with its pale red shiny eyes. I see it next to my bed while I am sleeping. I see it in the bathroom while I am trying to evacuate. It is there; not always; but it is constantly there. As if a ghost; a guarding angel; or worst. I cannot tell right now; it has not done anything yet. It just stands there: watching me and smiling.\n", "Damn, I was sweating again. A man appeared to laugh at the futile attempts of my deodorant to stop the onslaught of perspiration as I managed to sweat through my undershirt and my button up. It was October, it shouldn't be this hot, I thought to myself. I pretended to ignore the mirth of the man who noticed my plight. He was a bronze skinned man of apparently Asian descent. He wore a Poison tee shirt which prominently declared, \"Talk Dirty to Me!\" He coupled this shirt with an equally jarring pair of bermuda shorts in a loud red and yellow print. \n\nWas he strange? Yes, but not any more than the rest of the people who took the subway. Essentially the subway boiled down into students (myself), the working class, and homeless. This wasn't New York where everyone took the subway. In this city you only used the run down dilapidated subway if you had to because of financial constraints. A year ago, a scandal had emerged where the mayor had forced the subway company to drastically slice rates in order to run it into the ground. The subways became a money pit and as a result were not maintained. \n\nIn conditions like these, it was easy for me to dismiss this man. At least it would have been if he hadn't tackled me and pinned me to the ground, baring a stick of antiperspirant between his teeth like a pirate of hygiene. I struggled to remove this man which couldn't have weighed more than 100 pounds but his spindly limbs kept me firmly in place. Screeching in some language I didn't understand, he ripped open my button-up chambray shirt and tore my undershirt with his sharp, yellowing nails.\n\nA crowd gathered around at the spectacle of a teenage male apparently being beat up by the human version of Splinter. I continued to struggle as he spread cool antiperspirant across my pits. I might as well have been in shackles for I could not best the grip of this small man. I stopped for a second and met his gaze. His almond colored eyes burned with the fire of a man who would not break concentration on the task at hand. With a final swipe of his stick. He released me. \n\nI was so confused, I didn't even fight back. I gave the crowd a perplexed look as I took in the scene. They continued to goad me into combat but I was immobilized out of sheer confusion. I looked at the man. he saluted me as he moved towards the doors of the moving subway car. With a push of the yellow strip on the car, the doors opened and the man lept out backwards, the face of Bret Michaels rippling on his tee shirt as he soared down the subway tunnel eventually hitting the ground in a tumble and disappearing in the darkness of the subway. \n\nI turned to the crowd and they shouted,\"Look!\" as they pointed at my pits. They were clean. I had no trace of sweat on me. Despite being assaulted by the Grandfather from Jackie Chan Adventures and through all the adrenaline, I was untouched by the smelly hand of perspiration. From that moment on, I saved hundreds on deodorant and undershirts as I never sweated from my pits again. Sure every now and then I would sweat on the brow or maybe glisten on the chest but never my pits. My confidence increased exponentially as I removed the worry of pit stains during public speaking engagements, interviews, sports, dates etc. \n\nThat week I quit my job as a telemarketer and became a public speaker. After a few successful speaking engagements, I published my first book. I received a book deal and later became the host of a nationally syndicated radio show at the age of 20. At 22, I left my radio show a millionaire. At 24, I was the owner of the Los Angeles Raiders football team. At 25, I was dating Tom Brady's ex-wife. My confidence knew no bounds and I knew I was forever indebted to that man on the subway. I spent hundreds of millions in an attempt to track that man to no avail. My life was sublime but I would never be able to truly be happy until I found that man. That paragon of anti-perspiration. As I began to board my submarine in order to investigate the discovery of a torn Poison tee shirt in the Caspian Sea, I released a silent laugh because it all started with that strange man on the subway. ", "I shift my weight from one foot the other, which only briefly alleviates the ache I feel radiating from my kneecaps. I brace the straps of my backpack against the palms of my hands with a sigh. Today had been a long day. It didn’t help that the hottest week of summer seemed to be upon us, and my university was too broke to fix the AC in our classrooms. I stare wistfully into the silent tunnel at the end of the station. My ears perk at what I imagine is the sound of an approaching train; I don’t even care if it isn’t mine. I’d just be happy for the breeze. But it’s a false alarm. Damnit.\n\nA crackle over the loud speakers is followed by a woman’s voice.\n\n*We are currently experiencing difficulties on the North Street line. Expect 10-15 minute delays. We apologize for any inconvenience.*\n\nI roll my eyes and check my phone as if I had somewhere to be. A woman nearby catches my eye and gives me a sympathetic look. I respond by shrugging my shoulders and shaking my head. She nods and turns away.\n\nThe platform is filling up. People continuously flow down from the stairways, and exasperated voices talking to no one in particular echo against the cavernous walls. \n\nWhen a light appears in the dark tunnel and the metallic scream of an approaching train overpowers the sounds of impatience, people begin to push forward in expectation. Graffiti and dust decorate the outside of the train that shudders to a stop in front of the bristling wave of people. The doors fly open, and the crowd begins to pour inside. A small stream of people exiting the train is led by a man parting the way through the unrelenting crowd with his arms, pushing people aside as if he is swimming.\n\n*Doors are closing, please stand clear* a jaded voice announces.\n\nI push forward, pressing against the wall of human flesh that threatens to impede the motion of the closing doors. The damp glass slides against the side of my body, sealing us in. Disgusting. Sardines, indeed.\n\nThe train lurches into motion, rocking from side to side. Looking around, I see strain and revulsion painting the sea of faces before me. Everyone’s lips are drawn in silent grimaces. \n\nOut of the corner of my eye I see a middle aged man in a suit loosening his tie, sweating profusely. He reaches up to his forehead to wipe away the perspiration beaded there, elbowing the woman next to him in the process. She shoots him a stony glare, but he takes no notice. \n\n“*God*,” he shouts. Several people turn, startled. His breathing is rapid and ragged. The woman who had just been glaring at him, attempts to step back, alarmed.\n\n“Are you all right, sir?” she stammers. \n\n“NO. No, I am not all right! I need to breathe! I NEED TO BREATHE,” he pants, his face beginning to flush a rich shade of violet. \nPeople are shifting uncomfortably. \n\n“Should we notify the train operator?” Someone shouts from the middle of the train.\n\n“I NEED TO BREATHE,” the man shouts again, whipping his head back and forth. His eyes rest on my face, and looking directly at me he screams, louder, “I…NEED..TO BREATHE!”\n\nBright crimson veins pulse in the whites of his eyes, and his pupils are dilated to their fullest extent. Spit is frothing at the corners of his lips, and mucus drips from his flaring nostrils. My stomach turns as he holds my gaze.\n\n He suddenly pivots back to the woman next to him, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her. Her head bobs on her neck and she screams.\n\n“HELP ME,” he shrieks, inches from her face, showering her with spittle. When he releases her, she is shaking. Her eyes are wild.\n\n“A-AIR...,” she heaves, her eyeballs popping out of her head, her fingernails clawing at her throat. \n\nThe crowd on the train is bewildered, panicked. People are pushing against the doors fruitlessly as the dark walls of a tunnel whisk by outside. \n\nWatching the scene unfold, I instinctively pull my scarf above my nose and mouth. A young man across the train sees me, and similarly shields his face with his shirt, pulling the collar up over his nose. Other people follow suit, as we follow each other’s actions with darting eyes.\n\nMore people are screaming now; some scream for breath like the man and woman, others scream out of fear.\n \n“We need to get off of this train”, the young man who pulled his shirt over his face shouts over the din.\n\nI feel my muscles tense, ready to spring from the doors as soon as they open at the next station. I push a hysterical woman off of my shoulder, forcing myself not to look at her bared teeth or bloodshot eyes.\n\nA station materializes through the foggy windows. When the doors slide open, I leap forward, with one hand on my backpack and the other supporting the scarf on my face. The platform erupts into chaos. The strange man who started it all is left supine and motionless on the train floor. Other like him pour out of the train, falling to their hands and knees, grasping at nearby people for support. \n\n“HELP ME HELP ME,” I hear the train operator screaming over the intercom, ringing out behind me, “GOD, I CAN’T BREATHE.”\n\nI see the young man from before, still holding his shirt over his nose. He gestures that I should follow him. I nod and begin to weave my way through the hysterical crowd. Whatever this is, it seems to be contagious.\n\nI hope we make it out alive. ", "‘James! James!’ the man called out as he alighted the E train at Forest Hills/71st Ave, his eyes scanning rapidly for someone. I looked his way from across the platform where I was waiting for the transfer to the F. I didn’t know him. His overcoat was rumpled and his hair blazed the color of the F train’s signature orange circle. Even though it’s hard to look out of place at any Queens subway station, he managed the feat.\n\nHe ran up the stairs from the E platform shouting a few more times for James. I quickly forgot the man and returned to the article about the mayor’s lavish ball at Gracie Mansion I was reading in the *New Yorker.* The F train is still 6 minutes away.\n\nAs I was reading the fluff piece about the clams casino NYC’s first lady served, my nose was assaulted by the smell of stale linguisa and sweat. I looked up to see the orange-headed man staring down at me. \n\n‘James! I found you.’\n\nI was about to tell him it must be another James he was looking for when he sat down, closer than he needed to be, on the bench next to me.\n\n‘James,’ he continued, bowling right over my objection, ‘I’m so glad I got you before you got on the F. I just missed you at Kew Gardens when you first got on the train.’\n\nThat brought my back up straight and the magazine fell to my lap forgotten.\n\n‘What do you mean you’ve been following me since I got on the train?’ I stared at the man and got my first really good look. \n\nHe wore glasses taped at both ends. His eyes had narrow pupils that drilled into mine like at MTA Sandhog doing tunnel work. As he spoke I could see remnants of sausage built up along his gumline.\n\n‘James, I missed you at Kew Gardens but I tried to catch you at your apartment on Talbot Street before that. It was imperative I get to you before I go to Manhattan. I’m just here to help.’ The man was breathless at this point with his explanation.\n\nI’d had enough. I don’t know who this man was but I was just trying to get to work. I got up to find another spot on the platform, try to lose myself in the crowd.\n\nThe man’s hand fell to my chest as I started to get up. His arm was strong, holding me in place.\n\n‘James, I told you I’m just here to help. You’ll want my help once you get to work. We’ll be done here in a moment.’ His tone turned stern, ‘Now you’ll get on the F train when it arrives in,’ he looked up at the electronic message board, ‘two minutes. You’ll take the train to Manhattan like you do every day. You’ll get off at Bryant Park like you do every day. You’ll walk to your job at 41 West 42nd Street. 7th floor, I believe.’\n\nHe removed his hand from my chest, but I was still paralyzed by this man reciting my daily routine. He reached into a pocket of his overcoat.\n\n‘And when you get to your desk,’ he continued, ‘and you log into your computer. You haven’t changed your password in a while, it’s still *7Yankees* isn’t it? I know it is, you seem to favor that one quite a bit. When you get to your computer, you’ll slide in this thumb drive. Remember, I’m just here to help,’\n\nThe man pulled a small flash drive from his pocket and dropped it on the cover of the *New Yorker* sitting in my lap.\n\nThe man got up and walked slowly away. I clutched the magazine and stared at the thumb drive. A screeching brought everyone else on the platform to their feet, the F train was here.\n\nI got on the train to head to work just like I do every day.\n\n____________________________________________________\n\nIT had to help me log into my computer when I got to work. My hands were shaking so damn badly I couldn’t type *7Yankees* straight and locked myself out of the network. Kevin, the Help Desk tech, chuckled as he handed me a card with a new temp password, *1Mets*. ‘Maybe you can remember this one, Jim.’\n\nI jammed the flash drive into my machine, my leg bouncing up and down as I waited for the driver to install. Finally a new folder popped up in my computer’s menu. It was labeled ‘James.’ Inside was a pdf file ‘Read Me First’ along with another folder titled ‘Observations.’\n\nThe Read Me First file had just two lines, a link to a YouTube video and a phone number with a Bronx area code. I clicked the link to YouTube.\n\nMy subway friend appeared on the screen. It was a locked YouTube video - accessible only to those with the direct URL. The YouTube username was FriendOfJames and this was the only video on the account.\n\n‘James,’ the orange-haired man began after I hit play, ‘I’m so glad we were finally able to connect. Please spend some time with the ‘Observations’ files. I trust you’ll find them fascinating. You’ll likely want to talk again. I won’t find you like I did at the subway. Please call me when you’re ready. Oh and, I’m glad you finally go around to changing your password. Go Mets.’\n\nThe video ended on the man’s now trademark haunting sausage-teethed grin.\nThe Observations folder contained a thousand files. I clicked open the first one Obersvation_001.jpg and saw a photo of trees. No people. Nothing or nowhere I recognized. Just trees. I arrowed to the next file. More trees. I kept arrowing. The forest still, like the photos where taken progressively as someone was walking. \n\nAbout a hundred photos in, the woods began to clear and revealed a narrow dirt road. It wasn’t anywhere near Queens. That was for sure. Several more hundred photos of the same dusty, rutted road and a house came into view. File Observation_0998.jpg narrowed my eyes on the screen. I could see the house’s mailbox with my last name stenciled on it. Observation_0999.jpg was a photo of the house’s front porch. A man, older,with white hair sneaking out from under a New York Yankees ball cap, was sitting on a chair set upon the porch under a wide awning. He was smiling, waving at the camera.\n\nObservation_1000 was a .txt file. It contained one line of text: *James, meet James.*\n\n*Part 1 originally appeared as response to [this prompt](http://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/1x67wk/wp_a_strange_man_knows_a_worrying_amount_about/).*", "It all started with that strange man on the subway.\n\nThat particular car was empty, except for the 2 men. The strange man sat with a look that suggested apathy or exhaustion. It was hard to tell. He stood, not to greet Parrish, but to shake his hand, not a word spoken nor a muscle on his face moved. He was shorter than Parrish was expecting, perhaps five foot six or five foot seven, though Parrish wasn't quite sure what to expect to begin with. Parrish eyed the man up-and-down, examining his clean but ill-fitting suit and the briefcase next to him.\n\n\"I was told you were who to meet. Pleasure. Steven Parrish.\" He said, hoping to break the ice. The strange man was not amused. He spoke with an accent that was shockingly bland and American; not a hint of foreign origin was to be detected, though it was evident in how he worded his sentences.\n\n\"Are you an idiot? Did they send to me, an idiot?\" The strange man asked, clearly irritated. Parrish spoke cautiously, not to further upset the man.\n\n\"I'm sorry, I-\"\n\n\"Don't speak.\" Said the strange man. \"Just sit down.\" After doing so, the strange man leaned towards Parrish and spoke again, this time in a hush, restrained whisper.\n\n\"You never start with your name. You don't say what you're name is. You do not say who you work for or what you are doing at a particular place, or what you had for fucking dinner. Nothing. You wait for me to talk. Do I make myself clear?\" He asked.\n\nParrish nodded. \"I understand. I apologize.\" The response provoked a sarcastic laugh and sneer from the strange man, who proceeded to look around the empty car as the train traveled along, before silently saying something to himself in his native tongue.\n\n\"Apologize. Ha. Do you know what the biggest problem is with Americans?\" He asked. Parrish shook his head.\n\n\"You apologize too much. You're pretty fucking rude, too, which is what makes it ironic.\" Said the strange man, pausing for a brief moment before continuing to speak.\n\n\"Nobody likes an apologist. Your country is going to make far too many in the distant future, believe me. That's when you'll really regret the men you elected.\" He said. Parrish remained silent. The two men sat in the awkward silence for roughly 20 minutes before the strange man spoke once more, as the train came to a slow at one of its many scheduled stops.\n\n\"The paperwork. Do you have it?\" He asked.\n\n\"Yes.\" Replied Parrish.\n\n\"Good. Than you'll understand the reasoning my colleagues and I have for doing this.\" Said the strange man, as several nondescript men boarded the subway car. Before Parrish could even glance at them, they all pounced on him like wild big cats on antelope, pinning him against the wall of the subway. Over the ensuing madness, he could hear the strange man raise his voice in a blasé attempt to calm his nerves.\n\n\"Just relax. They are searching you for recording devices, or cameras. This will only take a moment.\" He said as the men began to strip Parrish of his jacket and pants, sticking their calloused, utilitarian hands in every crevice of the garments. The strange assault lasted for only a few moments before one of the men searching Parrish said something to the strange man in his native language, and as soon as they had boarded the train, they left. It began to motion forward as Parrish gathered himself up from the corner of the subway car. \n\n\"I guess I was in for more than I expected..\" He said. The strange man nodded, a smirk forming on his face for the first time since Parrish had encountered him.\n\n\"They always are.\" Said the strange man as he approached Parrish, retrieving documents that had been removed from his jacket and were now sitting on an empty subway seat near Parrish. The strange man briefly glanced over them, staring particularly hard at the name on the top of the first page in the documents. RAYTHEON, it read, in bold letters. The strange man smiled again.\n\n\"Excellent, excellent. And now, as you were promised.\" Said the strange man, sliding his own briefcase towards Parrish. \n\n\"Go ahead. Open it.\"\n\nParrish nodded, unhinging the clips that held the briefcase shut. As it opened, he couldn't help but laugh, a confused but jovial sense of ecstasy coming over him. In the briefcase lay stack upon stack of hundred dollar bills.\n\n\"500 grand in all. I know we promised you 100, but I wanted to prove to you that we are in this for the long haul.\" Said the strange man. Parrish nodded, smiling. The strange man spoke again.\n\n\"When we need you again we'll let you know.\" The subway car's brief trip came to yet another slow as it approached one of its stops. Once it finally did stop, the strange man began to leave, documents in hand, but not before turning and facing Parrish once more.\n\n\"The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics thanks you for your cooperation. Have a nice day.\" He said, with an unexpected indifference in his voice. He gave Parrish a shoddy smile and nod before leaving, disappearing into the crowd, yet another nameless face. \n\nWhen the train finally reached his stop, Parrish left, briefcase in hand. As he exited the underground transit station, back into the bustling, non-stop life of the city, he stopped momentarily, to make a call at one of the public phones nearby.\n\nA female voice greeted him on the other end of the line.\n\n\"Honey? That you? Coming home?\" She asked.\n\n\"Yes, of course. Like always - just calling to let you know I made it safely.\"\n\n\"Good, good.\" She replied, before speaking again. \"I love you.\"\n\nParrish took a moment to look down at his briefcase before replying.\n\n\"I love you too.\" \n", "He was very quiet, and to himself. He wore a tan trench coat and his hands were folded onto his abdomen. His gaze was low to the ground as if watching the floor. I didnt really pay much attention to him. The subway ride home was ussually very desolate, I rarely see anyone else. The lights over head were an annoying bright remnance of a supermarket. I didnt really want to look up either so I couldnt blame him. Id rather be at home taking a nap. I would take a nap here on the subway but it doesnt feel safe. I looked back at my fellow passenger and something was off, I thought he was farther away. Well he didnt get up, I didnt hear any footsteps so I mustve just thought he was farther. After a second of downing myself about how I should be more situationally aware, I looked down ay my ipod. I havent put any new songs on this thing in so long, I dont wanna really listen to arcade fire for the thousandth time. The subway went dark as we passed through a tunnel, the low hum and ba-dunk of the tracks was calming for the few seconds it went by. The lights opened back up and there was another shadow in front of my shoes. The man with the tan trench coat was sitting up in the seat across from me. I looked up to be more aware only to be met by his wide open eyes. He looked at me as if he was in an urgent hurry, his arms rested on his lap. \n\"What do you want man?\" I said keeping eye contact for only a split second.\n\" I want to save you\" He said, unmoving, and unwavering in his stare.\nI smiled a little, his intentions sounded good but im pretty sure hes a fuckin nutjob.\n\" From what ?\"\nAs he opened his mouth to answer the train came to an abrupt halt that threw me to my left. I caught myself on the seat next to me and hoisted back up. The man with the tan trench coat was standing up, holding on to one of the poles. He opened up his trench coat pocket with his right hand and dug his left into it, almost to far down. He fuddled around a little, elbow deep into what seemed like a small pocket. He lifted his head back up in focus and haphazourdly pulled out a very tiny pouch. It was tied off with a yellow string and had a big \"HJ\" engraved in stiched letters. He yanked off the string and flung the powder all around us covering my head and creating a very odd smell. \n\" This smells like smoke\" I said questioning him.\n\" What the fuck are you doi...\"\nThe greying man in the tan trench coat put his hobo-esque hand on my mouth and peered in to the window behind me. I latched my hands around his to regain some control but he just slapped them away. I wanted to see what he was looking at behind me so I tried to make out something in the opposite windows reflection. I saw a a big red light that just kept blinking, on and off. The red light blunk like an alarm clock and made an organic clicking noise like a when you click your tounge on the roof of your mouth. The greying man with a tan trench coat clenched his teeth and stared ever more vigilant.\n\" Come on, just walk away...... \"" ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2 ]

[ "1412624996", "1412627361", "1412629001", "1412633472", "1412653423", "1412656494", "1412610456" ]

[ "\"Dieter?\"\n\n\"Yes love?\" He answers.\n\nQueen Malvina says nothing, filling the empty space by refilling her cup of tea.\n\n\"I was thinking... perhaps you'd like to spent some time away from the castle? For a few months? There's a manor out in the countryside that belongs to me. It's rather beautiful I think. I mean, I, at least that's what I remember. It's been over a century since last I was there and a small girl at that, but it's tucked up there in the mountains and surrounded by forest and is built right next to a gorgeous lake with water pure and clear and I was just thinkin-\" She halts mid-sentance as Dieter takes her hand in his own, rubbing a callused thumb across her flawless skin.\n\n\"Malvina,\" He says smiling affection. \"I'd be delighted. Though I must know, why this all of a sudden?\"\n\nPain flickers behind Queen Malvina's eyes.\n\n\"You've been here for years now and I've forced you to stay here all this time and well, I just want you to be happy.\" She says, eyes flickering downward.\n\nChuckling, he kisses her gently on the lips, sending flutters through her.\n\n\"Malvina. I'm happiest with you. That's all I need in my life.\" He lets his words linger in the air, turning his gaze at the ceiling paintings and aged tapestries. \"Though I won't lie in saying a change of scenery wouldn't be nice for a spell. Speaking of which, do you feel up for a performance?\" \n\nQueen Malvina blushes meekly, staring down into her teacup with a slight smile on her lips.\n\n\"I'm not sure, perhaps some other time.\" She replies.\n\n\"Then a story, stars know I've told my fair share.\"\n\nQueen Malvina raises her head, nodding it in agreement.\n\n\"Your right. What would you like to hear?\" She asks.\n\n\"You were going to talk about it last time, but hour grew too late. Malvina, what was Mordnacht?\"\n\nThe silence echoes in the room.\n\n\"Mordnacht was, is responsible for everything that has happened. My powers, my people being undead. Everything.\" She finally says.\n\n\"What was it? He says with grim interest in his storm gray eyes.\n\n\"A monster. Like me.\"\n\nShe rises from her seat, walking over to gaze out the open window.\n\n\"When she awoke, darkness swept over the land. She could control the weather-\"\n\n\"Like you.\" Dieter says softly.\n\nMalvina nods her head. \"Yes, exactly like me. And so she brought forth a night that lasted an entire year. Crops failed, animals died and soon so did people. Exactly what she wanted. She emerged from her lair and took flight, her shrieks heard from end to end of the island. She flew over the island, and wherever she went the dead arose. Many battles have been fought here, many people buried over the centuries. All clawed their way out of the soil to do her bidding. In a matter of days she had an army larger than the living population of the island. Uncountable it was. Unspeakable the horror of it.\"\n\n\"Many brave and selfless knights died protecting the innocents and many more perished trying to slay her and her lieutenants, those very same men who awoken her. My great-great-grandfather, King Finnbar, called together an army to defeat her. 50,000 against a horde twenty times that size. The battle was terrible and many died, consumed by the walking dead or slain by rusting blades and pitted spears. My great-grandfather fought Mordnacht, wounding her at the cost of his own life. She fled in pain, and the rest of her army collapsed into so much bone and rotted flesh. And that was the end of the War of the Undead.\"\n\n\"Many years passed, and people tried to forget those dark times, and for the most part they did. But my family never did. Our gaze was ever up at the mountains and their numerous lairs and caverns. But for a hundred years, she did not come down from the mountains, no doubt healing from the wounds inflicted upon her by my ancestor. That changed however, when I was born.\"\n\n\"My mother was a delicate woman, not suited for a life on land. I was killing her. Desperate, as often these stories go, my father sought help from places her shouldn't have.\"\n\n\"Mordnacht.\" Dieters murmurs quietly. \n\n\"Yes. He rode to her lair, and begged her. He begged her to use her gift to save his wife and child. He would pay any price he said. She accepted and flew to the castle with him in her talons. Arriving, she informed my father what she could do. She could only save one of us. One life for one death. Nothing comes without a price. My father, though never cold hearted, loved my mother more than anythings else in the world. Children can be conceived again, their love could not. But my mother wouldn't hear any of it. She said-\" Malvina pauses for a moment, pressing the back of her hand to her lips. \"She said would gladly sacrifice herself for her daughter, like my grandmother did for her. She died and I lived. Because of that monster, my mother is dead. But that creature did not stop there. No. She cursed me with the same powers she possessed. The powers to give life and take it away. She made me into a monster like her. It is because of her my subjects are cursed with undeath.\" \n\n\nThe room is still as the pair sit in silence, thinking. Dieter finally breaks the dreadful quiet.\n\n\"So when do we leave for that manor?\" he says, putting extra effort into the cheerfulness of his voice.\n\nFor her part, Malvina makes the effort to smile, that effort growing more genuine as she admires his storm gray eyes. \n\n\"Within the week if you'd so like.\"\n\nDieter leans over to kiss her again, sending another wave of flutters through her.\n\n\"I'd like that very much.\" He says softly.", "I haven't written anything since high school, which was a decade ago, but here is the beginning of my clumsy attempt.\n\n\nThe Beast stirred from a fitful, restless sleep. She raked her jagged claws across her forehead, desperate for any sensation of the waking world. The straw of her bed was damp with sweat, worsening the heavy scent of mildew that clung to the air.\n\nShe froze in the darkness, suddenly aware of the offending sound which had pulled her from a nightmare.\n\nHorseshoes on cobbles. Her cobbles.\n\nThe Beast dashed from her mattress, unheedful of the thin layer of ice covering the frozen floor. She yelped as her hurry dashed her body into the door before she turned the key in the lock.\n\n-\n\nThe Boy pulled his horse’s reins tight at the angry yelp that echoed through the darkness. “Only a dog,” he whispered to himself, though the tension in his horse’s quiver confirmed otherwise.\n\nHe again glanced behind him, toward what remained of the village which had raised him. Though he could no longer see the burning embers, even the heavy rain could not stifle the putrid smell of smoke floating on the currents.\n\nThe sound of rolling thunder drowned the agonized screams of the few survivors as they were found by the Vikings. Despite the thudding in his chest, he urged his horse onward.\n\n-\n\nThe Beast careened down the spiral staircase, taking them three at a time. They had agreed to leave her to her crumbling castle if she ceased to show her face in the daylight, and she had done her part, hadn’t she? If an occasional sheep or goat had gone missing in the night, well, she had to eat too.She would have to remind them why she was here, what her kind could do, had done, to unwelcome intruders in the years past.\n\nThe Beast shook her head in fury as she leapt over the final triplet of stairs, landing on all fours. She lifted the tarred log that served as a barricade and tossed it to the floor. A snarl escaped her furled lips as she flung her body through the doorway and into the frigid storm.\n\n-\n\nThe Boy’s stomach turned, and he tasted bile in his mouth. He knew that the village Guardian was his only hope of survival, small as that hope may have been. No one had seen the Guardian in two generations, though hunting parties often returned with tales of hearing its solitary howl echo through the hills in the still of the night. \n\n“Enough to wake you from your dead mead sleep,” Cristoval had told him somberly. “Enough to make grown men fear to blink. Imagine that’s the last thing that young Alonzo boy heard ‘afore his head was snatched from his shoulders.” At this, Cristoval had clapped the Boy on the back and shown his remaining teeth in a wide grin as he cackled into his cup of mead.\n\nThe Boy’s knee buckled as he dismounted his wide-eyed mare, and he landed hard on his elbow. The horse tossed its head and nervously side-stepped, narrowly missing the Boy. The cold had sapped all sensation from his trembling hands, and he cursed as they struggled to secure the reins to the final intact column of the bridge. \n\nOver the sound of the heavy rain, he heard a heavy snort but could see only blackness as he lifted his head toward the terrible sound.\n\n-\n\nThe Beast quickly circumnavigated the boy so she was down wind. Where was his torch? Where were the others? A lone boy on a tittering horse posed an unlikely threat.\n\nShe caught the scent of burned flesh on the wind. Hunters seldom ventured close to her grounds since the day it happened. She stood on her hind feet to catch a more telling scent.\n\n\n\nNot certain if it's worth continuing, but thank you for the writing inspiration!", "Emily looks with disgust into the magical mirror- her scars looked particularly horrendous today. She should’ve known better than to try to shave the fur but then again she was only thirteen when she tried. She runs her claws across the table crying out in pain- she was absolutely hopeless. She had contemplated suicide but she was a coward as much as she was selfish. She now regretted her decision to turn the beggar away on that cold winter’s night but the servants of the castle still debated whether it was truly her selfishness or the punishment that she regretted the most. As her black and soulless eyes stare at the perfectly red rose that possessed more beauty than she could ever have, her new prisoner enters with a pile of books in his hands.\n\n“You really mean it? I can read any of the books in your library?” He asks incredulously reading the first page of one already.\n\n“Yes, that is why I said it. Will you leave?” she snaps with anger.\n\nEvan looks up, “Thank you. Are you alright Em?”\n\nEmily’s heart flutters as he says her name and then it sinks as she remembers her hideous appearance.\n\n“I’m fine.” She lies causing Evan to leave with his new collection of books. \n\nA few hours later she wanders downstairs to see Evan reading contently while nibbling on some food.\n\n“Did you even clean today?” Emily asks as she wipes the candelabra. \n\nEvan nods quietly and then lies, “Yes I did.” \n\nEmily looks into his eyes trying to see the veracity behind his words but just as he suspected; she really couldn’t tell with the amount of dust around the castle. \n\nEvan bites his lip wondering whether to ask the question on his mind and then gives in, “I thought I heard you crying before. Are you sure you’re okay?” \n\nEmily feels rage boil up inside of her and she knocks all of the books off the table as well as the plate. \n\nIt shatters into pieces and Evan backs up fearfully as she goes off, “How dare you question me! What am I? A weakling? Are you trying to intimidate me? Do you think you can fool the beast?”\n\nEvan bows his head knowing she would never let up unless he admitted defeat, “Of course not Emily. I’m sorry.” \n\nEmily takes a deep breath awkwardly unsure what to do considering he gave up so easily. It made her feel as ugly inside as her outside to make him look so scared and so defeated. \n\n“Go find a good dinner Evan. You can’t live on snacks. Why are you dressed so nicely anyway?” she asks in a lighter tone.\n\nEvan shrugs sensing the mood change, “The wardrobe gave them to me and said I’d look good.”\n\nEmily nods and turns away to head to the ballroom knowing that the wardrobe was right but at the same time wishing he was still in his tattered jeans and patchwork shirt; seeing him so princely made her feel like a dragon. \n\nEvan calls after Emily and asks, “Is it okay if I change into something more comfortable?”\n\nEmily nods surprised and gives a quick smile before heading to the ballroom. Evan goes upstairs and changes his outfit hoping it would help her mood. She seemed to act strange whenever he was well shaven and dressed in the fancy suits of the castle so he tried to keep a little disheveled most of the time for her own comfort. \n\n\nIn the ballroom, Emily gazes up at the stars and puts her hood down for a moment as she takes a deep breath. She hears footsteps behind her and instantly puts it back up and spins around ready to yell.\n\nEvan puts his hands up defensively and says, “I just wanted to tell you that I made a pizza before. I put the leftovers in the oven.”\n\nEmily looks at the rugged boy now in ripped jeans and a stained tshirt, his hair sticking in all directions. \n\n“You could’ve put them in the fridge,” she says not with hostility but not kindly either. \n\n“It would’ve gotten cold,” Evan states walking to Emily’s side.\n\n“You left the stove on?!?” Emily asks worriedly looking to the hallway leading to the kitchen. \n\nEvan shrugs, “Yeah, but I’m sure it turned itself off by now. Does the stove let food burn?” \n\nEmily shrugs, “I’m sure he was paying attention but you still should try to read a cookbook sometime. The amount of close calls you’ve had in my kitchen is far too many.” \n\nEvan chuckles and looks up at the stars. Just a few weeks ago, he was gazing up at the same night sky but instead of being the content prisoner of Emily, he was a horribly depressed prisoner of his judgmental town, his kooky father, and his overwhelmingly crazy wannabe fiancée; Things weren’t quite so bad now that he was free to express himself. He grins at Emily and wonders how she could be so sad in a place that was so liberating.\n\nEmily blushes and teases, “You are grinning like an idiot Evan.”\n\nHe laughs, “It’s a good night, what can I say? Hey Em, If it’s just me and you, then why do you wear that cloak?”\n\nEmily takes a deep breath and crosses her arms protectively, “I am a beast.”\n\nEvan looks at her cautiously, “Not really. You kind of remind me of my horse.”\n\n“Your horse?!?!” Emily shouts in disbelief.\n\nEvan shakes his head, “No! Not in a bad way! She was my best friend. The only one who would let me read to her. She liked me even if I was a dork.” \n\nEmily sees his eyes soften for a minute before looking back up at the stars.\n\n“Being a dork isn’t too bad. You’re a sweet dork at least,” she mutters.\n\nEvan blushes with the goofy smile which released butterflies in Emily’s stomach. \n\nHe gives in to his vulnerability hoping to inspire trust in Emily, “People look at me as if I were a beast back at home for wanting to read. They don’t understand me. They think I’m just hot.” \n\nEmily shakes her head, “Then they aren’t worth it. You’ve got a pretty face but you’re more than that and you know it.” \n\nEvan looks at her, “Then maybe you’re more than just a beast.” \n\nEvan and Emily gazed up at the stars both a little scared, neither one prepared, but realizing for the first time that each of them might be more than just a beauty or a beast. \n" ]

[ 1, 2, 12 ]

[ "1412648675", "1412650221", "1412648928" ]

[ "Interviewer: so, I know you guys get asked this every time. But well, I have a feeling today's my lucky day. Where's the band name come from?\n\nLead: well, yeah, we kinda wanted to find a reason, but well. Like. That's why we avoided it every time and stuff. But well. There is none, we just thought it sounds cool.\n\nBassist: yeah, we was like, just like jamming and shit then we were like thinking of names cause we wanted something deep and clever like, then trev just went \"rabbithole gangbang\" and we were like. What.\n\nTrev (the Lead): yeah and the rest was history.\n\nInterviewer: oh... Well that's disappointing.\n\nThe lead: well, now you know why we put it off, we kept trying to like work backwards from the name and come up with a meaning. But then we just went \"Fuck It. It doesn't have to have a meaning.\"\n\nInterviewer: oh. Alright... Well, it was fun guys, I hope your next album does well. You guys deserve it.", "Rickett looked at the faded yellow notepad in his lap, crossing off subjects as they talked them over (rather touched on briefly). On the next line was scribbled \"renaming?/band name?\". Rickett fiddled with his pen briefly. \n\"So, Marlon. It is common knowledge that names and titles are sort of a omnipresent medium of expression in your guys' music\". \n\"Yeah, have always been into cryptic stuff. I read Pynchon once and that was that. You know?\" \nRickett nodded. He felt like the pretension exuded from his subject could raise the temperature in the studio by a good two or three degrees. He continued. \n\"My question, I suppose is a two parter. Your name, just before you started writing music professionally I suppose, was Marley Jackson, you then changed it to Marlon Jonston. Was it for legitimacy or because it sounded cool or what? Secondly, the band name Rabbithole Gangbang. Obviously, very famous. You guys were prolific for the better part of the decade. You redefined punk music for the latter half and influenced so many. How is that you came to that name?\" \nThere was a pause. A black and white static with annoyed intent glossed over Marlon's faux-doughed eyed gaze. He toyed with his black raybans before putting them on. He tapped the left temple frame, looking down, giving Rickett his best \"rock prophet\". \n\"Well, a lot of the music early on came from an angry spot, you know? I got bullied. So I changed my name and left that shit hole I grew up in to trek out on my own for my art\". \n\"You grew up Lexington right? What was so bad about it?\" \n\"I needed to see something real. That place was plastic!\" He straightened in his chair, the Rock God about to educate this puritanical \"music\" journalist. \n\"You guys and your suits, you are plastic incarnate!\" \nRickett's mouth contorted into a misshapen corn hole, he was trying to fight back against using the obvious retort of Billboard evidence that proved how far and away from legitimacy he truly was. \n\"O..hokay. Anyway, the band name Rabbithole Gangbang. It's been plenty of time. You think you can tell me it's origins? It's something so many of your fans and my readers have been interested in\". \n\"I suppose it's the most obvious answer broheim. Our music is like, a rabbit hole. You don't know how far it goes down, but once you reach a certain point. The music, like overwhelms you. Makes you want to act out, you know? Sexually, it just makes you want to grab a couple guys, and a couple girls and a couple you don't know whats and just go to town. Our music as that power, man\". The prophet eased back in his chair, his own answer giving him a relaxation that recognized power trips and hot stone massages can only give. \n\n", "Where did our band name come from? Man, we get asked that in every interview. We always decline to comment, smile enigmatically, and ask for the next question. But, you know, after decades of making music, having fun, and playing for the fans - we're gonna answer it.\n\nRabbithole Gangbang. I'm sure, by now, our fans have constructed thousands upon thousands of theories, each more complicated and amusing than the last. Everyone assumes its some kind of hilarious inside joke. It's not, not really.\n\nIt's very simple where it comes from. Back when we first started playing together, I had an Xbox 360, real old school compared to today's game consoles. We decided we wanted a game to play after our practices and first small shows. Something fun, that'd help us relax. So, we bought Rockband 3, I think it was. We had to create a band name and the game automatically suggested a name for every new band. \n\nI'm not sure if there was a error in the code or something, but the first time we popped in the game and created our band, it popped up with the band name \"Rabbithole Gangbang\". We laughed our asses off and the name stuck." ]

[ 1, 2, 3 ]

[ "1412701867", "1412705685", "1412703975" ]

[ "I wake from my sleep as my growing hunger starts to hurt my stomach, so I get up and stretch my arms up, trying to wake up a little. I stride to the bedroom door, scratch my back, then swing the door open. I take a step out, shivering when I notice the hallway was *so cold*. \n\nI descended down the stairs into my musky living room, walking past the old batted-down couch and pass the small TV & vanity. I stopped and scratched my back one more time, then went down another flight of stairs to the basement to meet my extra freezer. When I get down on the slightly damp concrete ground, I walk over to the box of frozen food and take out a pizza, stopping for a moment when I hear a creak. \n\n\"It was probably nothing..\" I yawn. I hold the pizza tight in my grip as I walk up the concrete then carpet steps, shaking my head because whoever made this house was so stupid to put concrete and carpet together. I make my way back to the living room, then walking into the kitchen and turning on the oven. I lean back on the kitchen counter and set the pizza down, yawning when my arms touch the granite. I almost drift into a light sleep before the timer went off when the oven was done pre-heating. I took the pizza out of the box and out of the plastic then slid it in. I remembered to turn on the timer and I set that too. \n\nI got out of the kitchen and sat down at my kitchen table. It was dark, so I turned on the lights and found an envelope sitting there.\n\n*\"Shit, Nope, Nope, Nope, Nope.\"* I whisper. I run into the kitchen right when the timer goes off, then I quickly turn it off and take the pizza out of the oven. I let it cool down, then cut it and swiftly take the whole pizza into my room. I notice the clock as it says \n\n**5:34**\n\nI sigh and eat my pizza, really mad that I didn't get much sleep. But now that I was awake, I went downstairs and saw the envelope *still* sitting on the table. I nearly screamed I was so mad. I sat down at the table angrily and ripped open the letter and read the short note;\n\n**I'm watching.**\n\n**\"NOT EVEN GONNA\"** I yelled. I threw away the note, then ran up to my room and stuck my face to my pillow. I screamed muffled screams as I felt a cool hand glide around my back, sending shivers down my spine. I flip over violently and didn't see anything, So I positioned myself with the covers over my head, trembling with fear. \n\n**\"Not even freaking gonna..\"** I whisper.", "I didn’t need to fall this far. There it was though, and after everything that’s happened, it only seemed so very fleeting. Like a down-low lover’s whisper right before you fall asleep, only afterwards to find everything so empty and cold. But here I was, and there the envelope was. Haltingly, my feet inched every step--my body knew better than I. \n////\n\nA momentary shriek, like a mic dropping, came from above, breaking my gait. A faceless voice, feminine almost but any other defining feature was hardly discernible and one could never infer anything given this line of work, crackled, “Here is your payment, take it and be welcome to it. Thank you for your patronage.” \n\nMy heart stood at a precipice at that precise moment, and I did the unthinkable. I looked back, and it was a terrible mistake. \n\nThe falling grace of a human being is not found in others. We, as social creatures, mutely understand that no one will ever be able to fully understand another: an experience is a unique event that correlates with and reacts to prior experiences. When two people watch a tragedy of a dead mother and a loving son, one may cry deeply for he knows what it is like to lose a mother as a son, and the other may only tear slightly, understanding that it is, indeed, a sad event but that is how the world revolves: dead mothers and weeping sons. We know, to at least a certain degree, that others will never fully know who we are. When we are hated, despised, loved, celebrated, and tolerated, we see ourselves through them. We determine our self-worth through the beliefs of others, and that is a fallacy on our part; who knows ourselves better than us? Aspiring to be more though, our eyes are set upon the stars above, and each other. But when we begin to see ourselves through our own eyes, when the lights dim and the inner eyes avert their gaze, disgusted with who we’ve become and terrified of what we’re capable of and unloved for what we’ve done, that is when we fall. That is the falling grace of a human being. If you, my dear reader, have ever begun to disbelieve and hate yourself for merely existing, you have merely tasted the echoes ringing through a walking dead man. \n\n////\n\nI took the envelope, and walked out. \n", "I sit at the hard metal table, the chair creaking as i pull it out. My body trembles as it adjusts to the shockingly cold temperature. Tentative fingers stretch towards the large envelope sitting plainly in front of me, only somethings off about these fingers. \n\nThey're pale. Blinding white and bruised, the flesh a deep purple around the edges of the fingernails. My subconscious decided to think noting of it as I pulled the parcel towards me. \n\n *This is what you were and what you have come to be. These are the events that made you who you are*\n\nI don't flinch as the chilling words ring through the room, my fingers persistent of their task. I gently reach into the envelope, only to find several pictures of a young girl with golden hair. She's laughing, some other girl about her age standing beside her. Next picture, the same girl, a tad older, holding a small puppy in her arms; Her face pleading for the dog to stay. \n\nI continue to scroll through the various memories captured in the photos, unable to arouse any form of recognition to any of events. *Matthew.* I remain frozen for a few moments, completely stunned by a beautiful wedding picture. The bride is dressed in a very elegant gown, her hair falling in a cascade of curls around her. Beside her is a very familiar man, his nose slightly bent from a previous break. \n\n\"That's.... My Husband....\" I choke out quietly, tears suddenly spilling over my cheeks. I remember now, the girl was my best friend in 2^nd grade, Emily was her name. We grew up to be the best of friends, she was even my maid of honor at my wedding. Matthew was a quirky little fellow I met during my sophomore year in college, I still remember the day. He sat beside me in my engineering class and we talked a few times, though it wasn't until I caught him sneaking into a private sorority party that we actually started talking. Little did I know we were to be wed and with two children 10 years down the road. \n\nI flick to the next photograph to see a frail old woman laying in a bed a man with a slight bend in his nose kneeling beside her, clutching the woman's hand like his life depended on it. \n\n*Angeline, You're time has expired, you may now choose a side.*\n\nTwo massive doors slid open on either side of me, one leading into darkness and one opening up into a brilliant light. I stood, tears still staining my cheeks, and casually strolled towards the lit door, hoping Matthew and our kids were coping well. \nIt was really hard adjusting to my new lifestyle, but i actually enjoy it much better this way. All the annoyances from my past life gone, being able to finally relax. I'm able to wait for my Matthew in comfort, of course I don't willingly wish him here. Not many people are able to cope with dying. \n", "The boy with the knife snuck in through the basement. The only low window was locked from the inside, but a medium-sized rock took care of that. Had it been another time, he might have thought twice about the noise and mess. But as it was, his mind was on other things.\n\nPausing only for a moment to knock what pieces were left of the glass out, he pulled himself through, wincing as the leftovers of his desperate job carved scratches down his torso. Most boys his age wouldn’t have fit through.\n\nHe found himself in a vast room, cold from the sinking, conditioned air, and mildewy about the old brick walls. To his right was a furnace and some washing and drying machines, but not what he was looking for. To his left was a rickety staircase, comprised of level boards and some wooden framing. Silently, he climbed it.\n\nThis is what he hated most - this part of himself; the part of which he could never speak; the part that he tried not to feel guilt for - that he sometimes tried to convinced himself was explainable. He wished no one would be home, because he knew that if it came to it, he wouldn't hold back his knife. And that was what sickened him most. But his mind was on other things.\n\nAt the top of the staircase was a steel door. He briefly panicked as he grasped the handle, but it opened inward with only a slight creak.\n\nHe moved fast, making his way purposefully through the house, intuitively assuming the most likely layout. He found the kitchen within a minute, and with a look over his shoulder, opened the refrigerator.\n\nA necklace, tripled round as a bracelet, slipped off his minuscule hand onto the linoleum floor. If you were there, that night, at first glance it would have seemed worthless - a simple cord attached to two sticks wrapped together in the shape of a cross by a bent paper clip. But then you would have seen the clammy, depraved hands that snatched at it. And you would have heard the rasping gasps of horror that the boy made as he dived across the floor after it.\n\nIn the light from the refrigerator, he stared at the necklace longer than he knew he ought to have, remembering an afternoon long since past - a time before the end of joy.\n\nHis mother had been a kind soul. He vaguely remembered the rules he’d had to memorize on the day that she gave it to him.\n\n*”We do not?”*\n\n*“Lie?”*\n\n*”Yes, that’s right! And we do not?”*\n\n*”Steal?”*\n\n*”Yes! That’s* good*, Thomas!”*\n\nAngry tears began to form. The boy felt a shame run across his face, and a sorrow down his heart, remembering some of the things he’d done.\n\n*”We do not?”*\n\n*”Kill!”*\n\n*”Very good, Thomas!”*\n\nThe boy closed his eyes. Remembering some of the things he’d done.\n\n*“We do not?”*\n\n…\n\nThe boy couldn’t remember the rest.\n\nHe looked at the contents of the fridge and felt gnawing want that tore not only through his belly, but through his every limb and bone and piece and part. He looked down at his necklace and felt a deeper want that gnawed on his very self.\n\nSilently, slowly, he closed the door, and made his way to the basement stairs.\n\nHe held the cross gently in his hand still. Then pressed it firmly to his chest, hoping for it or anything to fill the dreadful weakness that threatened to overcome him even then.\n\nIf you were there, that night, at first glance you wouldn’t have given another to the house in the middle on Webster Road. But then you would have seen the shadow, thin as a wisp, that slipped from the basement window and around the back, unnoticed, unneeded, unhelped.\n\n**To Be Continued. I just can't do it tonight.**" ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 3 ]

[ "1412727699", "1412727764", "1412733856", "1412736000" ]

[ "The doctors say you're dying \n \nthey say you wont come home\n\nbut the doctors they are lying \n\nand I refuse to be alone\n\nbecause I love you more than anything\n\nand I want to be your wife\n\nso I'll sit here slowly whispering \n\nthe story of our life\n\nbecause i know you hear me \n\nand i want you to remember\n\nin case you leave me lonely\n\n\n\n\nthe tears we shed \n\nthe laughs we had\n\nthe lonely nights\n\nwhen I was mad\n\nthe dreams we shared \n\nthe life we planned \n\nwhen you were here\n\nand still my man\n\n\n\n\n\nplease don't leave \n\nI'll lose my mind\n\n without you with me\n\nevery night \n\n\n\n\n\nso listen here \n\nto what I say\n\njust one small task\n\nI'm begging please\n\ndon't you dare die on me\n\n", "I looked at him lying there on his hospital bed. I saw a frail, wrinkled old man lying there staring back at me as the sun from the hospital window beamed down to his sunken face.\n\n\"Ralph? R- Ralph... Come h- here boy\" he croaked, as he let out a dry cough.\n\nMy son, Ralph got up, and walked over to him without words. He leans over, to allow the man's fading whispers to be heard. I sit there, watching my son, as he looks over at me. His eyes, empty of all hope, seemingly soulless. A single solitary tear rolls down my son's otherwise dry face. He looks back down at the man, and kisses him on the forehead, with a touch so tender and loving.\n\n\"James..\" the man from the hospital bed says, as he gently beckons me over with his hand, barely a few inches off the white sheets of the hospital bed.\n\n\"Mind giving us some time alone, hun?\" I said to my now sobbing wife.\n\nShe steadily stood up, and without a word she walked out of the room, as if in a trance-like state. My sons were soon to follow their weeping mother. As they left the room, i look down at the man laying on the hospital bed. Our eyes quickly met. I check behind me to make sure my grieving family members have gone. I look back, and he begins to speak:\n\n\"James... y- you're the bes-\"\nI cut him off\n\n\"*Shhhhh*\" I say almost silently as i lean in as close as i can to the dying man's grey ear, and whisper:\n\n\"You've always wanted the best for me in life.. You wanted me to grow up to accomplish my dreams.. And now I'm about to. You've always bragged about your money, but kept it from the people you \"*loved*\".. You're a selfish, greedy, shell of a man. Honestly, it's about time. After all these years of wishing, and waiting for you to just die on me already... \"\n\nAs i lift my head away, I look at the expression. Tears are now pouring down his face faster than I'd ever seen before. His face was completely soaked. I notice he was fumbling for the nurse button on the side of his bed, but it's just out of reach; thank god. He attempted to cry for help, but to no avail. The old man couldn't even sit up more than a couple of inches without wincing in pain. I grabbed one of the many pillows next to his legs. \n\n\"It's time for you to go now... Goodbye, Dad.\"\nI said, as i pressed the pillow firmly against my father's face, until his struggling ceased.." ]

[ 2, 2 ]

[ "1412733517", "1412751515" ]

[ "Six months since the fall of man. Six months of uncertainty, fear, running. Six months living from moment to moment. The roads were dangerous, the cities uninhabitable. Traveling was grueling work, the stalled or abandoned cars, the road blocks set up before the abandonment. There were no more doctors’ visits, no more dental work; there was no more GPS, internet, Google. Death had become us, we wander; we are lost.\n\n“How bad is it?” Karen asked. She knew it was bad. Lee was going to die. \n\n“It’s bad,” Keith said. He stole a quick glance over his shoulder, Lee was sitting with his back against a burned out car. “We can carry him. Build a sledge. There is a town up ahead. We can get the supplies there.”\n\nThey stood, debating morosely, about their dire situation. Every day was a challenge, a nightmare. It was, according to the street sign that had been tagged, vandalized, and shot full of bullet holes in the last six months, ten miles to this town. Ten miles there, ten back. That would take the whole day, maybe longer if they encountered resistance. \n\n“Okay,” Keith said, “we’ll move Lee off the road, obviously. We can hightail it to town and be back by the early morning if we’re lucky.”\n\n“I don’t think this is going to work,” Karen said, “we can’t set the bone. It looks bad. It’s not a clean break.”\n\n“We don’t need your negativity right now.” Keith turned on Karen. “We are going to help him. And if you’re not going to help us, then you can get lost.”\n\nRichard was looking past Karen and Keith. He could see the pain in Lee’s face but there was something else there too. Acceptance, maybe. Every day they all wondered if today was going to be the day that they die. Maybe he was glad that at least he *knew* finally. Maybe he was tired of this hell. Richard knew he was. \n\nRichard pushed past Keith and Karen who’d lapsed into tense silence. \n\n“How’re you doin’?” Richard asked Lee, kneeling down in front of him. “We’re going to get you some help.” \n\nLee nodded his understanding. He knew that he was done for. Done with this hell that was left in the wake of humanity. But Keith felt it was his duty to try and save everyone. They all felt it, the desire to save, but the harsh reality wore down that desire until there was only the shell of a person left. Keith was only projecting his insecurity, his inability to accept that this was the end. \n\n“Okay,” Keith said coming over. “We’re going to get you off the road here, into the cover of the trees there. We’re going to go to the next town and get what we need.” \n\nLee nodded. He let them lift him, drag him, place him up against a tree out of sight of the road. He didn’t complain. He grimaced and bit down to avoid screaming out in pain. He was resolved in his fate even if Keith wasn’t.\n\nAs they gathered around Lee, looking down at him, they said their temporary goodbyes. \n\n“We’ll be back before you know it,” Keith said. Richard watched him and felt a tremendous sense of guilt. The future was written, there was no avoiding it. \n\nAs they walked back towards the road Lee’s voice came weakly from behind them. “Keep going. Find a better place.” They reached the road, Lee’s voice carried on the breeze, “Don’t come back for me.”\n", "Sometimes there is no story. It's not even a sacrifice. It's just a statement. \n\nDon't come back for me.\n\nFor the love of all that I hold dear, don't come back to me. I have reached my end. My words falter, my heart begins to slow for you.\n\nYou and I, we lasted a millennium in our hearts. We would last a millennium more if we had only 4 more minutes. In Mandarin, 4 sounds a lot like death, did you know that?\n\nI love you, from the beginning of time until the last goddamn fucking star in the universe snuffs out.\n\nBut, don't you fucking dare come back for me.\n\nTell our loved ones we were triumphant. This departure between us is permanent, but what we feel is eternal. I have no words to make you feel better.\n\nDo you remember when we sat underneath the fireworks? It was one of our first dates. We didn't realize how closely we had wandered to the display and we got such an amazing show. Our chests pounded with the fireworks. We didn't kiss that night, but we were closer than any people out there.\n\nThat memory made you smile. It's one of my favorites too. The tears. They are warm and salty. They run down my face because I know soon the curtains will draw for good. There is no piercing the veil for us, only grasping at shadows that dance between our fingers.\n\nThough I will stay with you through the last moments, we will be separated by a chasm that cannot be seen to the other side. \n\nI beg of you, don't come back for me. \n\nI love you. In a little bit, you'll fade and shuffle from this mortal coil. I wish I could save you from the tragedy that occured, but I was helpless.\n\nI am not a God fearing man, but for you, I hope there is a beyond. I hope you find happiness beyond belief. \n\nYou are my angel, I love you until the end of time. I can barely see as I tell you this. But, please....\n\nDon't come back for me.", "His words still burn in her mind. That was *his* mission, *his* self-imposed task; to die here in this god-forsaken laboratory in this god-forsaken city run by madmen and fools.\n\nShe remembers it all in piercing clarity: the pitter-patter of their footsteps as they ran down the stark white halls; the klaxon alarm blaring overhead, drowning out the shouts of the surprised guards; her hand, finding his, pulling—nearly—dragging him to the exit which was so close she could reach out and grasp the image of the door in her hand.\n\nThey were supposed run out of that door together. They were supposed to escape that lab together. They were supposed to head back to the Underground and share a meal by the fire with their friends and comrades-in-arms. They were supposed to spend just one more moment together; one more moment to be so desperately happy to be alive, yet equally terrified for the future.\n\nBut he pushed her. She was sent tumbling through the doorway. She, of course, yelled at him, demanding that he come with her and he just smirked at her, with that self-important, ego-boosting smirk. The kind of smirk used just after winning a debate or a battle.\n\nHe turned from her, pulling out his blade, readying his stance to defend the doorway from the stampede of laboratory guards. He had told her to run, to escape and head back to the Underground. She yelled back at him, demanding that he come with her.\n\nHe had relaxed his stance and turned to her, his blue eyes making contact with her green ones. He held her gaze, communicating with her silently, even as the world around them blared on, with the shrilling alarm above, the shouts of the guards behind him, and the roar of the rebel transport behind her.\n\nShe broke their gaze and he had smirked again at her. She had looked up at him again, her green eyes shimmering as her tears threatened to spill over. “I cannot leave you here to die,” she yelled at him, gasping as her tears ran down her tanned cheeks.\n\n“I am your guardian, Princess, your life is more valuable than mine,” he responded, stepping closer to the doorway, closer to her.\n\n“Screw that,” she cursed softly. “If I must lose you, then I would not wish to live.” She sniffled and stepped closer to him, as the rebels behind ran towards her.\n\n“Do not say such things, Annabelle!” He hissed at her, terrified over her words.\n\n“Even if my words are true, Sir Ethan?” She questioned him, her tear filled eyes boring holes into his own. Without waiting for an answer, she had pressed on. “I would not want to live in a world without you, Sir Ethan. You are the air in my lungs; without you, I cannot breathe; I cannot live!”\n\nWith such a declaration, she flung herself at him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled his mouth onto her own. His arms had wrapped around her as he nearly faltered with his blade. \n\nShe had poured herself into that kiss. That kiss, which had burned with the fire of a thousand suns. Both she and he lost themselves in such a magnificent kiss.\n\nBut he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers’. “I need you to leave, Annabelle.”\n\n“But, Sir Ethan…” she had begun, before he placed a finger to her soft and tender lips.\n\n“I can buy you and the others enough time to escape and make it back to the Underground,” he had spoken quickly, gently untangling himself from her gripping limbs. He looked behind him and then back towards his Princess. Reaching out, he cupped her cheek, smiling as she leaned into his touch. “I love you, Annabelle.”\n\nShe sniffled, desperately blinking back her tears. She smiled painfully, placing her hand over his, “and I love you, Ethan.”\n\nHe pressed his lips to hers once more, before pulling back with great effort. He knew that he would die here and he knew that their enemies would do terrible things to the bodies. He did not want her to see him like that.\n\nAs he thrusted his sword into the door controls, his eyes found her once again, for the last time. “Don’t come back for me.”\n", "I told them we should have never burned her. \n\n\"What did you know, \" they said to me laughingly, \"you're just a child.\"\n\nWe should have never burned her. \n\nMidwinter's day twenty years ago an old woman hobbled into our little village, and went straight to the well in the center, cracked the ice that had formed on its surface with a dropped stone, and pulled up a bucket of cold water to quench her travel weary lips. \n\nI did not see her then, there is no one alive now who did. Though the stories made their rounds, especially after Saul the baker's children disappeared. \n\nThey said she walked with a stick that was carved to look like a human leg bone. Some said it was an actual bone she stole from some grave. Some said that she had a dark cloak made from a dozen living cats holding themselves together around her. These things never made sense to me, leg bones would be too short for any decent walking stick, and not even a king could command twelve cats to do anything at once. It doesn't matter what they said about her, just what they did to her. \n\nThe villagers were superstitious, and this can't be blamed. \n\nWilliam the smith and a handful of lads from the farms met her at the well, asked her business, and told her with no trace of politeness in their voice that she had to leave. \n\nThe rumor of plague had reached even our tiny remote village, and the horrific stories of cities filled with black, bloated bodies had turned even the most welcoming heart cold and afraid. All travelers were turned away, or chased away if they wouldn't listen. \n\nIf only she had just brought the plague. \n\nAccording to all accounts she threw down the bucket and spit at the feet of the men who faced her. Then she hobbled off into the woods. \n\nAnd four days later Saul's two children didn't come home. The day after that their bodies were found in the woods, torn apart. Any level-headed hunter or woodsman could have told you that this was the work of wolves. That children so young should not have been so far from home during a lean winter. There wasn't a single soul in the village that was level-headed then.\n\nA single word began spreading from mouth to ear: \"Witch\". \n\nGramma Ennis started telling all who would listen that the plague had been caused by witches. With her position as the oldest woman in the village, her words carried the weight of undeserved wisdom.\n\nAny other time the whole village would have come together to mourn with Saul and his wife over the tragic loss, and the story would be told to warn other children about the dangers of the woods. \n\nNot this time. This time, the men gathered in the inn and slowly drank themselves brave enough to start a search. \n\nIt turns out the old woman had holed up in a cave not far from the river, maybe she was planning on waiting out the winter.\n\nThey dragged her out, the men cheered and shouted as if they had caught some cunning prey. She was brought into the village center, not far from the well where once she drank. No one listened to her claim of innocence. And the decision was made that she was to burn. \n\nEveryone from miles around came to see the fire. My stomach churns with my memory of the spectacle. If you didn't know what was going on in the center of the crowd, you would have thought we were hosting a fair or some traveling mummers. There was an air of lightheartedness mixed with an undertone of mob justice. \n\nI warned them, \"don't burn her, she is just some old lady without a home.\"\n\nI was nine. \n\nAnd I watched her burn. \n\nThe fire started slow, the morning dew still wet on the wood. And as the flames licked up her cloak (I remember it was made of grey wool with not a single cat to be found) she tilted back her head and howled in pain. Then, surprisingly she laughed. A high crackling cackle that solidified in any doubtful mind that she must have certainly been a witch. \n\nAnd then she spoke. The words were quiet, barely whispered over the crackling of the hungry fire, and yet every ear heard it. Every mind remembered it, and every soul froze at the sound of it. \n\n\"When all who witness here before, come to cross Death's cold door, flesh and skin and meat and bone, will rise again to atone!\"\n\nAnd she laughed until the searing air blistered her lungs. I could still see her frail and shoulders twitching with the laughter that her voice could no longer express. \n\nAnd an eternity later she collapsed into greasy dust as the flames consumed all. \n\nIf everyone had been so sure she was a witch, you would have expected them to take her curse seriously. No one did. No one except me. \n\nMonths later the burning day was only a memory, rarely commented about and on its way to being forgotten. \n\nAnd then Gramma Ennis died. It was her time, and she most likely passed on in her sleep. The next day she was buried. And as soon as the sun set that night... she came back. \n\nIt wasn't until sunrise that they found her, in the bedroom of the house she had been born in, eating the flesh of her Emily, eldest daughter and caretaker. \n\nShe acted like a drunken feral beast, growling in her gore-stained throat as the village men surrounded her, and dragged her out to her own fire. \n\nThen the fear began. That night Emily also came back, though we were prepared. William struck her on the head with his forge hammer, and we heard the neck snap, saw the head loll to the side at a grotesque angle, and yet the clawing hands did not stop trying to tear through William's thick leather apron. He had to break every one of her limbs with sickening, crunching hammer blows. And she went to the fire too. \n\nNow all who pass on go to the fire. There is no funeral, no wake, just a hastily built stack of wood and then flame. \n\nWe couldn't catch all of them. A lot of farmers lived away from the center of town, and farming can be a dangerous life. When they came back, they often took a few more with them. And sometimes there weren't enough living people to put the dead to the flame. \n\nAnd now there is only me, and the slowly cooling body of my own mother. We were the last who was there to witness the woman burn. \n\nThere are no sounds in the village, no hammering from the forge, or voices from the market. There is no smell of baking bread or friends meeting by the well. They have all gone to the fire. \n\nI don't think she was a witch. I don't think she was responsible for Saul's children. I do think that our cruelty twined her words with eldritch vengeance upon those who unjustly murdered her. \n\nAnd now as I build the pile of wood that will be the final resting place to the woman who gave birth to me, I wonder: Who will give me to the fire?\n\nI drag her stiffening body onto the pile. The sun will be setting soon.\n\nI kiss her cold forehead and whisper in her lifeless ear, \"Don't come back for me...\"" ]

[ 2, 2, 2, 5 ]

[ "1412733762", "1412733808", "1412735625", "1412732480" ]

[ "The first time, he hadn't been able to go through with it. However, since then he had been biding his time, knowing that there would be another opportunity in the future. Most people would not, perhaps could not, contemplate what he was fantasizing about.\n\nHeck, I was one of those guys. But I wasn't the jealous type - so when I saw Chris Hansen at my friend's house I simply said, \"Hey, sucks that the Sacramento Kings deal didn't work out. But I hear the Atlanta Hawks are for sale these days?\"", "There’s was a moment in some, few, desperately unlucky individual’s lives. Most people knew concept of rock bottom, but until someone reached it, they couldn’t really understand it. It’s wasn’t hitting rock bottom that was the worst moment in a person’s life.\n\nNo. he decided. It was the moment just before. That split second of weightlessness when you’d just started fallen off the cliff, before the ground rushed to meet you. The moment you saw the first brick crack, just before the life you’d built came crumbling down.\n\nFor Jesse, it was the moment he opened the door, six pack in hand, to Chris Hansen staring back at him. \n\nThere were other people there. His old service buddy, stony faced, standing resolute in his decision to betray Jesse’s confidence—standing behind Hansen of course. The Camera Man, some thirty-odd-year-old just below average at everything greyscale blob spending his life watching other’s get ruined from behind the scene. And, in the corner, a square-jawed, balding badge, who probably thought the best years of his life were spent playing ball for his Mid-America small town team. But they didn’t matter. \n\nThe only thing that mattered was Chris Hansen. And in that moment, that just-before-rock-bottom moment, Jesse hated Chris Fucking Hansen.\n", "[Skeleton dialogue, saving to flesh out later]\n\nI rolled my sedan up to the one-story house on Walnut drive and parked under the oak tree out front. It was a balmy April day, and I'd picked up a fresh pack of IPA's after work to share with an old friend. They were still ice cold. I'd noticed a couple big white vans parked nearby, but I didn't think much of it at first. I'd figured maybe a neighbor was getting construction or something.\n\nI walked to the door and knocked. A muffled voice answered, something I couldn't quite make out. It sounded oddly high pitched, even for my friend. The door was unlocked, so I let myself in.\n\nThat was when everything got weird. Instead of my friend, there was a guy behind a bar that I'd never seen before, someone much older than him. He looked familiar, but I couldn't place him until he spoke.\n\n\"Take a seat,\" he said, gesturing to a suspiciously well lit stool. \n\nAnd then I knew, it was Chris Hanson of *To Catch a Predator* fame. Cameras peaked out from fake houseplants.\n\n*What the F*ck?* I thought. None of this made any sense.\n\n\"\"Why are you here today?\" He asked.\n\n\"Uhh... To see Alex?\" I replied.\n\n\"Uh-huh. You're here for Alex.\" He leaned forward deviously, \"What's the beer for?\"\n\n\"For us to drink?\" I replied, thoroughly confused.\n\n\"You were going to give beer to a 14 year old girl?\" He chided me.\n\nI scowled and I shook my head \"No, I was going to give it to Alex--\"\n\n\"Alex, the fourteen year old girl.\" he interrupted\n\n\"No, Alex my college roommate with the chemistry degree,\" I replied, \"He's a dude.\"\n\n\"We have here a chatlog of all your correspondences with Alex.\"\n\nI winced. Alex and I had never done anything criminal over our texts, but we could get rather juvenile, to put it lightly. Then, I remembered who I was talking to, and wondered \"The teenage girl or my roommate?\"\n\n\"The actual Alex,\" he said, calmly.\n\n\"So, my roommate,\" I clarified.\n\nHe seemed to get annoyed. \"No, the fourteen year old girl,\" he said\n\nI straightened myself up on the cheap bar stool and shot back, \"Wait, this is to catch a predator, right? I thought the whole premise was that the teenager's actually an adult actress.\"\n\nHanson snapped, \"There's no roommate Alex.\"\n\n\"There is! This is his house! I've been over here like twenty times at least! You would've had to have gotten his permission to film here or something! Are you actually Chris Hanson?\"\n\n\"Sir, I need you to sit down.\"\n\n\"No, this is bullshit! I'm not a pedophile. I don't like little girls. Heck, I don't like girls at all. I'm gay! I've slept with like 8 guys and every single one of them was older than me!\"\n\n\"We're not here to question you sexuality, sir, just—\"\n\n\"Oh for goodness sakes. Before I walk out this door and have a bunch of TV cops dogpile on me for the cameras, can I least call actual Alex and try to figure out what's going on?\"\n\n\"I really don't think that's necessary\"\n\nI pull out my phone and saw that I'd already gotten a text from Alex. It was one word long:\n\n*PUNK'D*", "I walked into the big house, the door had been left open. I knocked once more and called out. A girls voice of no more than 6 years old called out \"Just a minute!!\"\n\nI grinned, I knew what was in store and I couldn't wait.\n\n\"Can I come in?\"\n\n\"Just a minute!!\" She called back.\n\nI thought about the other nights like this and pulled out my new phone. The camera was meant to be the best available on a phone and I couldn't wait to take some pictures to show the guys at the bar later.\n\n\"Ok, come on in!\"\n\nIt was silly, it was always the same but I couldn't wait, every time it was a little different but they were all memorable and even after it was over I always had the pictures to remind me.\n\nI rounded the corner and there he was standing before me stone faced. Chris Hansen of NBC fame. Chris Hansen, who struck fear in to the hearts of men and women across the country. Chris Hansen who had his daughter over to visit this weekend. Chris Hansen wearing a tiara, pink feather boa and make up that bordered on clown face. I couldn't help it, he was a good dad to do this, but out came the camera. \n\n*click*\n\nChris: No Don- dammit!\n\nSarah: Daddy, you said a swear word!!\n\nChris: Sorry princess.\n\nSarah: No daddy, *you're* the princess!" ]

[ 1, 3, 20, 30 ]

[ "1412806012", "1412803583", "1412791441", "1412785680" ]

[ "The hardest part, he’d decided long ago, was deciphering the memories that came with smells. The fall air brought with it half formed dreams of diving inside scooped piles of leaves, and the first days of school. That he’d grown up with a concrete lot for a yard didn't matter. The memories reminded him of her. \n\nInevitably, though, thoughts of her drudged up more memories. Moments in history whose origin was harder to determine. Had it been he who’d gotten turned around driving their daughter to her new daycare; had she been the one to burn dinner right before the dinner guests arrived? Knowing which he’d lived and which she’d shared with him was a tall order, sometimes more than he could handle. \n\nThe first time he’d gotten lost in his -her? -memories in front of his family, he’d awoken to the sound of his grandson crying. They called it memory overflow, an unfortunate long term side effect of new technologies. Apparently it was rare enough that nobody important cared when it happened.\n\n It was always the memories associated with smells that started the fevered dreams. It’d get worse with time, he knew. Eventually he’d spend most of his time trapped within his mind. He’d miss the family he had left; those he’d leave behind. But it wouldn't be all bad. He’d get to see the memories of her.\n\nJosiah Baker opened his eyes. He wasn't quite sure how long he’d been laying unmoving in his bed. At the very least, he’d missed the sunrise. He smiled at that. Unbidden his mind wandered to mornings spent saluting the sun and preparing his mind for the day. He swung his feet to the floor and sighed at the dull pain in his hip, a reminder that not all memories in his mind were his. \n\nHe’d never practiced yoga during the sunrise. He focused his mind on her yoga pants and the backside it struggled to contain; he was sure the memories that followed were his. \n\nThat was his way of getting through the day. He couldn't just force himself to stop thinking about her. But sometimes he could control the directions their memories went. Sometimes he could delay the sweeping tide of the memories.\n\nHe wandered through his home listlessly, getting ready for a day of nothing. People his age, he found, didn't really have ‘Things to Do’. What they would do, they’d done already, and what they hadn't, they no longer could. It was sad looking forward and seeing nothing left. It made looking back so much easier. \n", "Chris waved at the fry-cook, a young woman with long auburn hair tied into a ponytail and tucked into a hairnet. She waved back at him through the order window, then showed an index finger, *one sec, almost done*. He smiled, twisting back in forth in the rotatable diner stool. He looked down the bar and saw several other patrons, some of them facing away from him; when they did happen to turn and give him a slight glance, he saw that their faces were fuzzy, their features not fully discernible. Chris paid no mind, he didn't ever pay any attention to the other patrons in the diner on the day that he met April, so it made sense that he couldn't remember what their faces looked like. \n\nThere was a ding from the order-bell and Chris turned back in his seat to see April, the fry-cook, coming around the corner with a hamburger on a china plate, hugged on the side by freshly cooked french-fries accompanied by a small bit of ketchup. She sat the plate in front of him, then took the diner seat next to him, taking a fry from the plate, dabbing it into the ketchup, and taking a bite. \n\nChris took a bite out of the juicy burger, smiling and almost chuckling as some of the juices almost escaped from the corner of his mouth. \"You've still got it, darling,\" he said, dabbing at his mouth with a cloth handkerchief he pulled from his coat pocket.\n\n\"You know I do,\" she responded, taking another fry from his plate. \n\n***\n\nJerry wheeled Chris towards one of the many small consoles that sat on one of the many long tables of the couples lounge of the nursing home. Already present was April, slouched in her wheelchair, but eyes still vibrant as ever, almost out of place in her wrinkled face. She was already hooked into the MemRepeater, possibly already cooking Chris his burger before he even walked into the diner. \n\nChris looked at Jerry, about to ask why they had wheeled her out so early, and Jerry responded before he could get the question out, \"She finished therapy a bit earlier than expected, she wasn't quite able to do all of the exercises. She's probably just tired today, but she definitely was eager to cook for you again.\"\n\nChris nodded and watched anxiously as Jerry prepared the cords that would allow him to enter his and April's special meeting place. \n\nBefore long, he was walking into the diner, and April was already there, burger sitting on the bar. \"What took you so long? I might have to make you another,\" she said, poking at the burger, \"it's getting a little cold.\"\n\n***\n\nJerry wheeled Chris into the lobby, and yet again, April was already present. \n\n\"Can you bring me out here at the same time as her?\" He asked in a dry voice.\n\n\"Sorry,\" Jerry replied, \"you still have to do your therapy, and she can't really do hers, so we just decided to bring her out. She insists on it, saying that she likes to cook in the diner, that it makes her feel young again.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Chris murmured. Jerry rolled him next to April, and Chris saw that her eyes appeared dull. He tried to say something to her, but she didn't respond. \"Is she okay?\" \n\nJerry prepared the cords again, either not hearing Chris' question or flat out ignoring it, and Chris entered the memory, where April was already waiting.\n\n\"Hey,\" he said, sitting onto the diner stool. \n\n\"Hey yourself.\"\n\n\"How're you doing out there?\" Chris said, jerking his thumb to the diner door. It was glass, you should've been able to see through it, should've been able to see the parking lot, but neither Chris or April could remember what the parking lot looked like, so instead it was just a grassy field covered in fog. Chris wasn't sure if the field was from his memories or hers. \n\n\"I'm alright,\" she said, looking away from him. \"It's getting hard to think straight out there, feels like I'm dreaming, sort of feels like I'm still here.\"\n\nChris took her hand in his, \"Do you want to stop coming here?\"\n\n\"No,\" she said immediately, \"I like it here. This is where I fell in love with you.\"\n\n***\n\n\"Hook me to it,\" Chris said firmly.\n\n\"But-\n\nChris cut off Jerry's response, \"Hook. Me. To. It.\"\n\n***\n\nChris walked into the diner and sat down. There weren't any patrons sitting at the bar. He turned and looked and realized there weren't any patrons at all, none sitting at the bar or even in the booths. \n\nHe turned back in his seat and waited for April to come around the corner.\n\n " ]

[ 2, 5 ]

[ "1412806785", "1412804286" ]

[ "I heard the first sad notes of a piano and my hand went to the volume, turning it up. I din't know this song made it to the radio, much less these days. The woman's melancholy voice drifted out of the speakers.\n\n*Woke from dreaming, but it took convincing...*\n\nIt was dark on the road, no street lights, no other cars, just the dim illumination from my own headlights. My mind drifts as the song continues. I lost my virginity to this song. It was in a scummy basement on a scummy mattress to some scummy guy while some party went on upstairs. Funny that I can remember hearing this but not his face. Not that I really want to, anyway, it was just something I had to do.\n\nI run a hand slowly up my arm. Right, something I had to do. Had to. I shudder involuntarily and started breathing hard. I pull over and barely put the car in park before throwing the door open. I run to the ditch and started vomiting violently.\n\n\"No more.\" I whisper to myself as I hug myself, shivering.\n\n\"Everything alright, miss?\"\n\nI jump at the sudden sound. There's a man, tall and dark, silhouetted against the headlights of his own car. His voice was deep and smooth. I didn't even hear him pull up.\n\n\"I...yeah.\" I say, brushing a hair away from my face. I'm terrified.\n\n\"Car sick?\" He asks.\n\nI chuckle nervously, clutching my arms. \"Yeah, sometimes. Never been this bad, though,\" I lie, \"I thought I was going to die.\"\n\nHe remains curiously silent. I see his head move, looking up at something across the street, then back down to me. \"But you are dead. Don't you remember?\"\n\nThe words hit me in the gut and I feel like vomiting again. Then my head catches the blow. I do remember. I thought I was done but I needed one more taste. I remember being in that room, all those people. I bought just a little off of a woman that looked like a corpse, I remember handing her the money. So much for so little.\n\nI also remember being called a thief and a liar. I tried to explain but the corpse woman was to far gone to back me up. I didn't even get the taste I wanted. They hit me until darkness came, then I was on the road and the song came on.\n\nThinking of the song, I hear it faintly in the ending refrains from my car.\n\n*We will kill if we need to*\n\n\"Come with me.\" The man says, his hand extended towards me.\n\nI take it gingerly. \"Where are we going?\" I ask weakly as he helps me up.\n\nHe puts a comforting arm around me as he escorts me to his car. \"You have not been a good girl.\"", "\"We do feel alone\"\nThe man next to me kept muttering it as we stood in line, still a little freezer burned from the cryo sleep we were held in. We've been gone from our life for years. Even though we've been frozen and don't remeber anything, everything has changed. The cold dark room I remeber coming in is gone. I can only see bright lights and long red lines on a plain white floor. The only thing I can think of is holding my wife again. \"Welcome back to the living world people. The years 2150, and lots has changed. More so then you probably thought in,\" he makes a quick glance at his papers,\"2014. Made some new friends.\" That was the moment my heart dropped, my blood colder then ever. This experiment we signed up for? Was only meant for a few years, not this long. \n\n\"That place in my mind. Is that space that you call mine?\"\nI asked the shrink. He had me attached to some machine that showed him my memories, and the activity going on. What kind of science even made this possible fried my mind, everything I'd seen had so far. \"Of course it is, it's your mind after all!\" He said with a smile. \"The only reason we're doing this is to ensure nothing was lost during the sleep. Make sure you're not missing a chunk of anything, and that everything is working right.\" He said warmly, clicking away on his keyboard as he watched my life flash before his eyes. I settled into the chair again, closing my eyes and drifting to sleep. \n\n\"Where have I been all this time? Lost, enslaved, fatal decline.\" \nThe doctor rushed into the room, looking at my record and me lying in the bed. The past few weeks we realized that the sleep had taken a lot out of us. Almost like a cancer but faster and like nothing they'd seen. Guess that's what we get for being lab rats. \"Anything you can do for me?\" I ask weakly, throat dry from the medicine. \"Well,\" he started, sitting next to the bed. \"We've tried everything we can. That won't cause you more pain that is. But we haven't tried replacing what we can't save with some cyber parts we got working years ago. It'll be painful and might not work, but it's your choice.\" I rested my head back, mind cloudy from the drugs. \"If it'll make me better, you do what you can.\" I say, looking him in the eyes with a weak smile. He pats my shoulder and leaves the room. I turn towards the window, looking at the neon lights and slight rain pelt the window. \n\n\"I've been waiting for this to unfold.\" The doctor whispers. \"Good, The pieces are only as good as the whole.\" A voice says on the other end of the phone. \nI can walk and use my arms again. I'm moving more, and I can walk around the hospital, so long as I don't go too far. I look into the other rooms as I pass them. The others seemingly not wanting to lose anything they have attached. Or maybe they don't want to see how the world has changed since they're dying from some cancer? My leg gives a loud pop and the next thing I know, I'm on the floor. The attached limb seemingly burning is way into my flesh. I scream in pain, and call for help. Soon I'm in bed again, now short 2 legs. \n\n\"Severed myself from my whole life. Cut out the only thing that was right. What If I never saw you again? I'd die right next to you in the end.\"\nI sobbed onto the grave. My wife was gone. My whole life was gone, and I was some where I shouldn't be at all. I signed for this whole thing going in for a few years, come out with a fat check with me. A war started after we went in apparently. Some aliens or some shit showed up and we wrecked them. We only were found because of the rubble protecting us, and being a test and all. People lived along side man, machine, and alien now. I could get a replacement, a clone even, of her they told me. I told them it wouldn't be the same. How can I love a doll that looks like her but isn't? I did this for her, a future with her. Now everything is gone. \n\n\"I won't let you walk away. Without hearing what I have to say.\"\nI said into the screen. Recording everything I said and did. \"I know this wasn't supposed to even happen, that we're a miracle in our own right. My own right.\" I took a sip of the drink I'd gotten from the shady looking man in the alley. Burned like hell, but man did it taste nice. Guess I'll never know after this. \"I've been poked and prodded like an Amish alien in the past few months under the guise of helping us get better. But I know better now.\" I picked up a thick folder, shaking it at the screen. \"I know we're the last pure humans from before they landed and we fought. That whatever they brought with then it's killing us. That, \" I take a deep drink from the bottle. \"We're the last humans on earth. Well, human now. Since the only thing holding me together is the parts you put in me. That everyone else rejected them. I'm done now. I miss my wife. My life. Other people that are people.\" I pulled out the revolver from my pocket, and cock it. Press it to my head, and start to pull the trigger while dreaming of holding her again. \n\nSlipknot-Danger keep away" ]

[ 1, 1 ]

[ "1412808412", "1412826400" ]

[ "\"Look man, you don't need to do this,\" a bit aggressive I thought, so I lowered my voice, \"take these\" I said softly, a £20 note, a cigarette and my favourite lighter. \"You know, I was just like you, the night was my playground, I'd consider mugging a grandma if I got the cash I wanted.\" I took off my shoes, and handed them to him, \"I hope they're your size\", off came my tie, blue and striped, and then the shirt off of my back, \"I think you need these more than I do, a good set of clothes will get you far in life, believe me.\" There I stood, half naked and vulnerable, an easy target for the sharp blade that he gripped tightly, turning his knuckles and odd shade of beige. I said it again, \"you don't need to do this\". I opened my arms and welcomed him in, \"let me help you\". All this time, he said nothing, but at that point his face had softened. Tears flooded down my cheeks, and he responded in the same way. He dropped the knife, and then he dropped himself, smashing his knees onto the cold, cracked concrete. \"Thank you,\" he cried looking at me and then up to the sky, as if I was sent from the heavens above to save him, \"thank you.\"\n\nWe spoke for a while and I handed him a business card, asking that he called me on Monday morning and then we parted.\n\nI walked home, feeling a little less empty inside and hopefully he did too. The cold winds nipped at me, like a dog to the postman. I snuck indoors, walked upstairs and kissed my son on the forehead, he looked like such an angel in his sleep. Then I stumbled into bed, my wife puzzled at me already being half naked. I got under the duvet, \"I'll explain in the morning\" I said unprompted, awaiting for the backlash that he morning would bring, she thinks I was out with the boys...", "It was my first night in Leitzig and an emergency rail repair had caused my arrival to be delayed later into the evening than planned. Snow had just began to fall this low in the alps and the fierce winter chills had not rolled down from the mountaintops just yet. The streets were empty and cabs would not be waiting this late. Not wishing to call for one and wait, I decided it should be fine to walk. Alone, I left the station for the small tavern from which I had arranged to rent a room with the hopes that my lateness had not prompted them to rent my bed to someone else. Along the way, perhaps a block or two from the tavern I heard the shuffle of quick steps from behind, and a hushed but stern voice commanding, \"Freeze.\" The metallic click of a revolver being cocked and another command, \"Turn around, say nothing.\" I observed my surroundings and concluded that besides my assailant and myself, we were alone. Not one to deny the orders of armed men, I raised my arms turned to face him. \n\nFirst I peered into the barrel of the .32 caliber snub nose pointed at my nose, then to the hand holding it and up the arm into the face of my aggressor. Looking at his eyes, a sudden wave of memories surged over me, and for a moment I was no longer standing on a dark street in Leitzig being robbed. I was strolling along along a river bank, laughing and chucking rocks into the waters, I was banging a fork and knife impatiently against the dinner table to excited cheers and grumbles of frustration, I was running through a field, being chased but not being afraid, and I was hiding in a basement from the bombs, holding and being held so tightly, promising not to let go. But I did let go. I had to. \n\nA stiff arm to my shoulder jostled me away from my memories, followed by another order, \"Well? Hear me cunt? Give us your money, your watch.\" The man hadn't looked into my eyes yet, only to my chest. He appeared afraid, what he did now was clearly not something done for the sake of wealth or pleasure, but subsistence. I thought for a moment that I could be wrong, but all the dirt, shabby clothes, and unkempt facial hair could not hide what I saw in this man's eyes. \"Erwin?\" I asked. The shaky hand holding the gun lowered, and for the first time the man's eyes met mine. \"Hareld...? It's been so long. I- I thought you died when they took you\" the man replied, before wiping the tears now beading in his eyes. I took the gun from my young brother's hand and grabbed him tightly in embrace. \"I won't let you go again, I promise.\" and I did promise, this time more so than ever before. The beads of tears in the corners of his eyes now turned to streams and joyous sobs." ]

[ 1, 2 ]

[ "1412808548", "1412817880" ]

[ "this post sucks...\n\nfuck. just lost some life", "Penny sat down at her coffee-stained dining table, the chair underneath her rocking unsteadily. A pile of bills sat before her. Her eyes were sunken, and her brow furrowed, the lines in her face deepening with every envelope she opened. As she pulled her checkbook closer to her, a piece of her golden locks fell in front of her face. \"Looks like I won't be making rent this month,\" she sighed heavily, as the golden lock before her faded into a dull silver.", "Mark looked up, dazed. The man who had just saved his life was dusting himself off. Suddenly the man straightened, peering intently at a spot a few inches above Mark's head. He looked around, looking at the top of people's heads. He looked confused for a second, then ran away laughing maniacally. \n\nMark gave his head a hard shake. The world was full of weirdos. Still, this weirdo *had* stopped him from getting run over by a bus. He supposed he should thank him for that. He got up, looking around for the man, but he was long gone. \n\n\"Are you okay sir?\" The EMT who had just arrived at the scene asked him. \n\nSomething didn't seem right though, were there... numbers on top of everyone's head? He might have a concussion.\n\n\"I might have a concussion.\" he told the EMT. \"My vision... I'm not sure everything is okay with it.\" \n\n\"Okay sir, can you open your eyes wide?\" asked the EMT as he pulled up Mark's eyelid, shining a flashlight into his pupils.\n\nThe numbers on the EMT's head were ticking down, Mark noticed. That was strange. And... strangely familiar. The EMT asked him a number of questions to check if his faculties were functioning properly, which he was able to answer with no problem.\n\n\"I can't tell if there's a problem, sir, would you like to see a doctor?\" the EMT asked as he beckoned his elderly colleague closer. The number on this guy's head was much smaller, and it too was ticking down. \n\nMark looked around. The little girl walking next to her mom had a really large number above her head. The hobo on the corner street had an even smaller number, and the numbers on everybody's head were ticking down! His heart begin to sink as realization dawned on him. He had seen this before. Seriously? Did it have to be that shitty Nickelback video that came true for him? Couldn't he have awakened in Katy Perry's California Gurls or something?\n\nThe elderly EMT was speaking him to me. He forced himself to listen to the old man's chatter. \n\n\"... kids these days. In my day, every young man knew to look left, look right, and then cross the world. What is this world coming to? No wonder we've made a mess of this place.\"\n\nThat was strange. The numbers on the old EMT's head jumped down by a few hundreds. What had he just done to hasten his death?\n\nA kind of morbid curiosity was overtaking his original dismay at gaining this depressing ability. The scientist in him longed to know how it worked, how he could make use of it, etc. He knew from the Nickelback video that if he tried to change someone's fate, the ability would be taken from him. Best to save it for someone he loved then.\n\nHe felt a little bit selfish for saying that, but he had to maximize his knowledge of the ability to make the most out of it.\n\nAfter reassuring the EMTs, that he was in fact okay, and no, he did not need to see a doctor, he hailed a cab to go home. \n\nThey hadn't gone more than a few feet when the driver launched into a tirade about the mess Obama was dragging the country into. His number was surprisingly low. Maybe it was just the risk of getting into a traffic accident as a cabby. Mark shrugged it off, you couldn't save the whole world. As the driver continued to link everything from Ebola to ISIS to Obama, Mark noticed that his ticker was falling at a much much faster rate than anyone else's he had observed? What could that mean? Was god a Democrat? No surely, it couldn't be something as stupid like that. What if complaining shortened your life span? Everyone was talking about the importance of mental wellbeing these days, even if he didn't get what it was about. Well, there was only one way to test if negativity in fact was the incriminating factor here.\n\n\"Could you take me to this address instead?\" he asked the cabby as he showed him his phone. If there was ever a test of negativity to be done, his aunt would be the ideal test subject. \n\nHe tipped his unwitting labrat, as they pulled up in his aunt's driveway. \n\n\"Oh Marky, how nice it is to see you after so long.\" his Aunt waddled out of her house to greet him. Alright, second-by-second decrements so far. \"No one gives a damn about the elderly these days...\"\n Here we go. Mark tuned out and concentrated on the numbers on her head as she launched into complaints about the plumber and the gardener, and just about everyone around her. Sure enough, they were decreasing by leaps and bounds. He felt a pang of sadness as he calculated just how short a time his aunt had to live. Still, old age wasn't something you could prevent even if you wanted to. \n\nHis objective accomplished, he extricated himself from his aunt's complaint cloud as quickly and politely as he could. He had a new measurement to make. Just how fast could your ticker go down. Thankfully, he knew just the place to test it. The Westboro Baptist Church was in town.\n\n\n\n\n" ]

[ 1, 1, 3 ]

[ "1412922373", "1412925661", "1412926601" ]

[ "Changed the meter and style a bit, but here's my attempt: \n\nSweet surrender gone asunder\n\nlast survivor left to wonder \n\nwhy the end was but a blunder \n\non the earth; a lonely moon.\n\nAll they wished was to survive\n\nOne last decade still alive\n\nGone from earth, where the jive \n\nOf countless people told a tale.\n\nOf reckless spending, demagogues\n\nPoliticians, synagogues.\n\nAll alike they never saw\n\nThe coming ruin of broken law.\n\nWhen air was bought at prices great\n\nAs once gas was to leave the state\n\nAnd soon the poor could not buy\n\nEnough of a good air supply\n\nTo save their lives another day \n\nWhile the rich spent air on play.\n\n\nDecisions then to seek the moon\n\nTo stop relying on neighbor's boon\n\nWere made and so a select few\n\nWere tested, told to start anew\n\nUpon earth's lonely satellite \n\nAnd try to see if lunar plight\n\nMight make for better living for\n\nThe desperate man who dying swore\n\nTo outlive the fool - a closing door\n\nOf opportunity.\n\n\n", "> Sweet surrender gone asunder,\n> \n> Last survivor left to wonder\n> \n> Why the end was but a blunder.\n> \n> -- On the Earth, a lonely moon.\n> \n> \n> Swells that gather rising higher,\n> \n> Smoking ladders flashing brighter.\n> \n> Where the winds go, bright the fire.\n> \n> -- Silent screams are gone too soon.\n> \n> \n> Ignorance in grave consequence,\n> \n> Deep regret left as recompense.\n> \n> Recovery has lost its chance\n> \n> -- Doomed are we, now comes the end.\n> \n> \n> Lonely moon shown through smoke too dense\n> \n> Shines sorrowful with innocence.\n> \n> Last life on Earth, emptied contents\n> \n> -- Hope fading fast, none left to mend.", "Sweet surrender gone asunder,\n\n[The] last survivor [was] left to wonder,\n\nWhy the end was but a blunder,\n\nOn the Earth; a lonely moon...\n\nDrifting, circling, years passing soon,\n\nAnd sooner still as Joseph drifts,\n\nNever noticing the subtle shifts.\n\nThe subtle shifts of tide and season,\n\nNothing whispering at rhyme or reason.\n\nToo subtle to hint at a future severe,\n\nWith only minor changes year after year.\n\nAnd Joseph drifts, never caring,\n\n'Bout the sun now brighter, glaring,\n\nSwearing to swallow Joseph staring,\n\nInto a future that never comes,\n\nAnd a present that lasts for only one.\n\nJoseph drifts for years upon thousands,\n\nAs the heat dries oceans and swallows mountains.\n\nHe stares into the sun, long after he'd died,\n\nWith no one to set closed his eyes." ]

[ 3, 3, 7 ]

[ "1413037663", "1413040848", "1413037584" ]

[ "Sorry folks, it's been a while since I have written anything and it kind of got away from me. Hope you enjoy nonetheless. -- Oh and slight language warning to those who will be offended.\n\nThe world as he had known it was crumbling, shattering, shredding to pieces right before his very eyes. What was up and what was down? What was logical and what was illogical? He swallowed hard, fingers flexing on the dingy steering-wheel of the squad car.\n\nAn apocalypse in this lifetime, who would've thought?\n\nHarsh chuckles erupted from his throat and he brushed a hand through his hair, ignoring the edge of hysteria that lingered near the peaks of the harshly vocalized mirth. No, he wasn't hysterical, he wasn't shaken. He was cool, calm, and levelheaded- just how he had trained to be at the academy. In times of a crisis an officer had to be collected and rational; it was his job to stay strong while others collapsed into irrational abandoned because he had the training and they didn't. \n\n'But the academy didn't train you for this situation.' His mind whispered conspiratorially. 'No simulation, no matter how creative or well thought-out, could have prepared anyone for this.'\n\nAs his mind raced a smoke-roughened voice filtered through to him from the back of the car. “What's the matter officer? Run out of coffee or something?”\n\nOf course the smart mouth would say something so careless in this situation. He had been regretting picking the druggy up since five o'clock this very morning despite his oath to maintain and uphold the law; the over-night lock up just didn't seem worth the trouble, honestly. But, he had gone and done what he had been trained to: cuffed her, read her, her rights and had been intent on shuttling her to the station for booking. A ten minute task before everything fell to pieces.\n\n“Did you miss the last few hours, miss?” he bit back, barely keeping a civil tone.\n\nThere was the sound of shifting clothes and he glimpsed half a boney arm stretching up to the ceiling in his rear-view mirror. A pop sounded and the woman sighed contently. “You mean the screaming and the chaos? Nah, I saw that crap.” she hummed, “What I'm wondering now, is why, after all that shit, am I still in trashy car with a fat man and his badge. I know I'm a doll but you're going to have to let my fine-self out of here sometime.” \n\nHis lips pressed into a thin line. Such blatant disregard for authority. He steadfastly ignored the nail tapping pointedly on the thick glass window and blew a breath out through his nose. “Ma'am, I have already told you that I will be escorting you to the station for booking. It would be best if you remained cooperative--”\n\n“Escorting me to the station!” The woman cackled.”Are you still hooked on that? Look around you, officer. The city is in ruins, the populous is in literal pieces-- I think I see a severed arm over there in the wreckage-- and you still want to put your cap on and wave your gun around.” A sombre air abruptly eclipsed her and she folded her arms over her torso, looking him straight in the eye from the reflection in the mirror. “There is no police force anymore. There is no station to book me in, there is no cell to contain me and force me to spend the twilight hours twiddling my thumbs.”\n\n“The law states--”\n\n“What law?” She purred. “Laws are created and upheld by society and society is made up of people. There's only you and me here, officer. No one's around to sentence me or put me on trial. None of your judges or lawyers are here. They're probably long dead now. You're just a gun; the muscle. You're not fit to judge me on my crimes anyways.”\n\nHis gaze was jumping from one thing to the next: the radio that was as silent as the grave, the broken travel mug spilling coffee onto the carpet on the passenger side, the mini laptop with a cracked screen. What did he do in this situation? What had he been trained to do?\n\nHis throat felt swollen and he cleared it. “You will be escorted to the station for breaking the law.” he said. It wasn't nearly as stern as he had meant the statement to be.\n\n“Is it really a crime if no one recognizes it as a crime?” her voice oozed derision, false innocence, and cunning.\n\nWas it really? He snorted. Of course it was a crime. It was in the book and in the training, he had watched numerous videos on addicts and what those drugs did to a persons body. Heck, he had seen it himself when his uncle had shown up through the years begging for money to the house. And what had his dad done? Turned him away with a few choice words and a firm hand, because a crime was a crime. It didn't matter that one Christmas Uncle Steven died of hypothermia because he couldn't find shelter. All his dad had seen were the fresh track marks in his arms and in between his toes and the rusted syringes nearby. All men make their choices and the one who makes the choice must face the consequences and there are always consequences.\n\nBut in that line of thinking wouldn't it be more fate or karma or some other higher form of judgment that had come into play? Did it even matter if the force or justice system was in place? Were they just tools being used by those phantom judges?\n\n“C'mon, fat man. How long is it going to take you to answer a yes or no question? God forbid I throw a multiple choice in, just to mess with ya. I have things to do. Survival to plan. They must hate you at the doughnut shop.”\n\n“Goddamnit,” he roared, slamming his fist on the wheel. “Just let me think a minute!”\n\nAn earthy chuckle slipped through the interior. “Tick-tock, officer.” The criminal taunted, reclining her head against the seat.\n\n'Tick-tock.'\n\n'Tick-tock...'\n\nThe words echoed eerily in his mind and he shook his head to clear it. She was right, as much as he hated to admit it. Time was of the essence in this situation. A few seconds could be the difference between life and death at this point. Wouldn't it be logical then to have two people fighting for survival rather than one? Safety in numbers and such. But a criminal...\n\nLike she had heard what he was thinking she spoke again. “I'll even make you a deal. You let me out and I'll stick around for a while. The city has always been my jungle, now it's just a trashed one.”\n\nHe shot a dark glare over his shoulder only to flinch slightly as he saw she had moved from her previous position to press against the divider. A smile twisted her lips and she leered. He didn't bother with words but his face made it clear what he thought of the interruption.\nWhat was it going to be? Survival or the law?\n\n'What law...' \n\nHis lips curled back from his teeth as he realized that her words had actually gotten to him. Stupid. That was a rookie mistake. It didn't matter what came out of a persons mouth, if they were cuffed or in a jumpsuit you just let it fly over you. No thinking on any of it. No, they should be speaking a completely different language as far as you are concerned.\n\nUnfortunately that niggling voice was back though. 'You weren't trained for this. There is no right or wrong answer in this. You followed the guidelines because they were what kept you alive and kicking: survival.' the word hissed through his head. 'Now? The academy is useless. The book? Useless. The law? Useless. Survival is key.'\n\nIt was difficult to wrap his head around. He was a by the book kind of guy. It was phrased one way and it would be done in that particular way with zero deviation. He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead.\n\nSurvival or the book.\n\n'Is it really a crime if no one recognizes it as a crime?'\n\nThe click of the door opening was thunderous in the near silent interior of the cruiser.\n\n ", "Part 1 or 2 (sorry its lengthy but i hope its worth it)\n\nI sit silently, \"please dont let this fog get any thicker\" i muttered to myself. I promised the captain i wasn't chasing a dead end, and now i intend to prove it to him; The perp's name was Wes \"west side\" Smith, i had pictures, C.I reports, and a lengthy paper trail but no arrest or solid leads. Wes has made a small empire in my city, pedaling drugs and guns with no moral compass. The heroin problem only came to the public eye after the third or forth high school student overdosed, but west side didn't care, just found a deeper cave to hide in and kept feeding his customers.\n\nAfter chasing down endless leads i'm positive i pin-pointed his \"cave\". I came in last night, parked my car about easily 5-6 miles away, walked rest the way in, i couldn't afford a neighbor calling him if they saw me anywhere near his place. i found a nice dense spot in the back tree line to hunker down in. I wanted to say i got some sleep but after seeing shadowy figures cross behind illuminated blinds as soon as i settled in.....sleep was not an option. The house called it a night around 3am, now at 7am i see what could only be the bathroom light come on. The window starts to steam up, i’m praying it’s Mr. “West Scumbag” getting ready for his daily runs. I've long suspected he primarily traveled in the mornings to blend in with the work commuters and rush hour. \n\nThe light goes out, what must be the bedroom light comes on, time to move. I quietly follow the tree line around, luckily the firetruck and ambulance sirens in the distance have been non-stop tonight. They have helped me stay a ghost until i found the best view of his cars, while still being able to stop him at the end of the drive way. As i wait for the early bird to make an appearance i unholster my Glock 22, double check my back pockets for my cuffs, and grabbed my binoculars from my bag. I didn't have my belt today or any part of my uniform actually, i didn't want him to know i was cop until i was ready for him to know. The plan is when he stops to check traffic at the end of his drive way, i’ll hop in the passenger side and place some cold steel against his temple, if he is smart he wont put up much of a fight.\n\nI brought down my small binoculars for a minute to rub my tired eyes, no matter how much i use these things they always seem to strain my eyes after a couple minutes. I bring them back up start moving them around to find the sweet spot. IT’S HIM!, i know its him, and he placed a pretty large hockey bag in the trunk for a guy with a suit and a BMW. \n\nHe gets in and starts the engine, I tighten my grip on the Glock, so much so i can almost feel the molded texture of the grip becoming indented in my sweaty palm. The gravel starts to crunch as he slowly maneuvers to leave, i can feel my black sweater bouncing as my heart is now beating out of my chest. Here he comes. Wait for it, “slow is smooth; smooth is fast” i mentally play on repeat………here he comes……..get low……….can’t let him see me now, he would simply run me over and go along with his day………..closer……..closer……NOW.\n\nFor what certainly looked like the first time in his life, Wes “West Side” Smith looked to be caught completely by surprise. I never lowered my gun or took my finger off the trigger as i directed him to keep driving until i told him to stop. As i scanned for a good spot, i informed him that i would like simply kill him, but my boss wants to see him alive first, so if he so much as sneezes without warning me first, i’ll kill him. I spotted a clearing and told him to stop, I got my cuffs on him and swapped spots, now to get to my car, change back into my uniform and report in to HQ about this duffle bag of goodies i just found in a *routine traffic stop*, and who happens to own that bag. \n\nAs we made our way back to my car, it was silent, neither of us felt the desire for small talk. A large tower of smoke rising in the distance was the only thing breaking up the morning sky. With just a couple blocks to go the traffic became a parking lot. People are standing outside their cars, honking and yelling. A man walked by barking directions at his oldest son as he struggled to carry his young twin daughters, the look of pure fear on the faces of those little girls, told me something big was not okay. I hit the radio….nothing…….no music, no talk radio, no cheesy commercials or even an emergency broadcast. Wes was not oblivious or stupid, he started to freak and kept telling me “we need to go back to get my girlfriend”. i may have over reacted as i gave him a love tap on the nose but he took the hint that silent is his best volume. \n\nI saw another family rushing past us, carrying suitcases bursting at the seams with all their worldly possessions. I opened the door and only got out enough to grab their attention.\n\n“Hey, Excuse me, sir!, what’s going on?” i yelled as he was waiting for his kids to catch up\n\n“huh? what? WHAT?! you haven’t heard, Chicago, DC, LA, New york all the big cities are gone!” he screamed as he turned back around to keep going", "“I’m telling you man, I am one hundred percent completely innocent!” Daniel yelled as he slammed his handcuffed fists against the gate separating the front row of seats from the back. The officer did not turn his head or speak, but simply looked out the front window of the cruiser into the thunderstorm building outside.\n\n“Look officer, I’ll be honest with you here. Let’s say I DID do what her friend says I did to her. Even in THAT case she’s just a girl. Why the fuck would I even think about doing that to you?” Daniel folded his arms and sighed heavily. “It’s not like I’m gay or anything. You’ll be totally safe with me, I promise. We’re both in this toget-”\n\n“No. We are not,” stated the officer flatly.\n\n“What the fuck do you mean we are not!?” Daniel screamed slouching to slam his feet on the steadfast separator. “You heard for yourself on the radio, they’re all dead! We’re all there is.”\n\nThe officer’s hands tightened on the grip of the steering wheel, his face emotionless. His eyes remained empty of the life that had inhabited them only hours ago. Tears began to drip down the side of his face as his lip quivered in anger. He whipped his head around to face Daniel, still struggling in the back of the car.\n\nBefore Daniel even knew what was happening, the officer had ripped open the door and pulled him out onto the cold, wet mud placing him on his knees.\n\n“Finally coming to your senses I see” Daniel snickered as a smile crept across his face.\n\n“I guess you could say that,” the officer said as he turned his head, closed his eyes and fired his gun into the back of Daniel’s head killing him instantly.\n\nThe officer collapsed on the ground as he clutched the locket that hung from his neck. He opened it up and looked at the withered picture of the girl inside. The life returned to his eyes for a brief moment as he whispered\n\n“Rest in peace now dear.”", "\"You ever hear the story of the scorpion and the frog?\"\n\n\"What? Y'all crazy. World's gone kaput and you're hearing yappin' on about a frog.\"\n\n\"My momma told me it, long time ago. Shows who people really are.\"\n\n\"I ain't no frog man!\"\n\n\"It's a metaphor.\" The office shifted in the car, turning in his seat. \"Anyway, you're the scorpion.\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, I get it. I'm a scorpion, that's better.\"\n\n\"So this scorpion, it wants to cross a river.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"So it can buy some crack, doesn't matter. The scorpion gets to the river edge and asks a frog if it will carry it across the river.\"\n\n\"Why don't it just swim?\"\n\n\"Christ!\" The perp lent back in the seat, cuffed hands raised in defence. \"The scorpion can't swim, the frog can. Get it?\"\n\n\"I get it.\"\n\n\"The frog's like, 'Why should I take you? You're just gonna kill me.'\"\n\n\"What if the scorpion just wanna get across the river?\"\n\nThe officer sighed. The perp zipped a finger across his mouth.\n\n\"The frog finally say alright, the scorpion hops on its back and it begins swimming out across the river.\"\n\n\"See my man, this is us! You're the frog and you can get me outta here!\"\n\n\"They get to the midpoint of the river, the deepest bit...\"\n\n\"Enough with the fucking story!\"\n\n\"And the scorpion stings the frog.\"\n\n\"What? That dude crazy. They're both gonna drown now. Why he gone done that?\"\n\n\"The frog stops kicking, it's body dying and they both start sinking. And the frog says to the scorpion, 'Why did you do that? Now we're both going to die.'\"\n\n\"You're not gonna let me go are you?\"\n\n\"And the scorpion, it turns to the frog and it says, 'It's in my nature. I can't help it.'\"\n\n\"They both die?\"\n\n\"They both died.\"\n\n\"Why'd the scorpion do that Officer? He coulda waited 'til they got to the other side.\"\n\n\"It's always the same Lenny. It's in your nature.\"" ]

[ 1, 2, 13, 45 ]

[ "1413089706", "1413075382", "1413055142", "1413056643" ]

[ "Jethro chopped the beast down in a single blow throwing it to the ground. The blacksmith picked himself up and bowed before him.\n\"You have saved my your highness! I am forever in your debt!\"\nJethro put his hand out. \"No need old chap! Just in need of a sword you see, the Princess has been kidnapped and I simply must save her.\"\nThe grubby looking man looking up again.\n\"Princess? You mean, Princess Erien?\"\n\"Yes the very same why?\"\n\"Oh you wouldn't want to do that sir...\"\n\"Why?\"\n\"Well... um... well shes being guarded by a dragon sir that'd be awfully dangerous.\"\n\"Nonsense! My house knows no fear. I shall slay the beast or die if the gods so choose! Now I need a sword and I've been told you are the finest blacksmith in the kingdom!\"\n\"Nooo sir you shouldn't want to do that its not worth dieing for is it? Just head home and we in the Kingdom will grieve and go on without her.\"\n\"But my good man if I do not rescue her then no one will be able to claim the thrown! Who would rule over you? Who would live in the lavish palaces of the Kingdom?\"\n\"Well maybe no one sir. Myself and many others in the Guild of Professionals and other Importance were thinking of creating some kind of democratic system of representative government.\"\nJethro was puzzled. A kingdom with no ruler? Common peasants running the land?\n\"But what about the palaces?\"\n\"Perhaps all that space could be put to better use by the people. Maybe all those lavish gardens and fine food by used by all the starving farmers. Its been a famine for almost ten months and lets be honest the princess wasn't exactly skinny when Akral'Thra The Ten Winged Abomination carried her off I mean it needed two talons...\"\n\"Now listen here!\" Jethro picked the Blacksmith up by the scruff of the neck, his biceps bulging as he slammed him against the nearest wall.\n\"Don't you insult your future Queen like that! She has had to comfort eat since the rest of her parents died!\"\n\"I'm sure my kids wouldn't mind a bit of comfort food themselves to be honest sir.\"\nJethro slapped the Blacksmith.\n\"Listen here peasant! I demand you make me a sword at once or I shall... I shall...\"\nSuddenly there was an earthquake, everything shook and Jethro looked around in panic. The blacksmith laughed.\n\"Well it looks like my future queen just agreed to have her soul sucked out by the Ten Winged Horror. Now I presume you don't have any business here now so could you please leave?\" ", "It was a long, torturous journey through the valleys and mountains into the land of Lord Azkrock. The plains were barren of life, and the last town was days away. Cecil looked out upon the final hill and saw the castle. It was dark, foreboding, and it was where he would rescue the princess of the realm.\n\nIt had been not a year ago that Princess Shanna had been abducted in the night. A dozen knights had gone forth into the wicked sorcerer Lord Azkrock's realm. None had returned. Many more efforts to rescue her were, in total, complete failures.\n\nAnd Cecil wondered what had happened to the men who had ventured forth into these lands, and he had set out one day to rescue the princess. His sword was an antique, passed down to him from his father. His shield and armor were a gift from the king, minor treasures in the king's vast armory.\n\nHe approached the moat, wary of danger. As he stood there, waiting for an ambush, the drawbridge slowly descended. \n\nThe castle was deserted - completely and totally empty. He slowly and carefully made his way up through each floor, wary of traps and dangerous monsters, but none unveiled themselves. \n\nThe top floor was devoid of life, too, and Cecil slowly made his way up the steps to the throne room.\n\nHe opened the door.\n\nBefore him lay a once-grand room. The red carpets were dirty and no longer held the richness that he had seen presenting himself before the king of the realm. The walls were cold and grey, and the torches were unlit.\n\n\"Hello,\" a deep voice sounded from the left of the throne. A hooded man in a black cloak emerged from the side of the room, standing near the throne. \"I am the man once known as Lord Azkrock.\"\n\nCecil drew his sword. \"Where's the princess?\" \n\nThe man chuckled, before he laughed uncontrollably. \"She is no longer here. No, she has not been here in a while.\" He sat on the throne. \"I am all that is left. I am sorry to disappoint you, adventurer.\" He conjured a bottle of wine. \"Would you care for a drink? I promise, I won't poison you.\" \n\nCecil hesitantly took the glass of wine offered and sipped it. It was the best wine he'd ever tasted.\n\n\"You must be wondering what in the world is going on. I can see it in your eyes. The princess Shanna was here, long ago. I kidnapped her, yes.\" The man's voice had grown softer. \n\n\"Were you expecting the royal family to pay ransom?\" Cecil sipped his wine.\n\n\"No, not at all. You see, powerful magic users such as myself are rare. The Princess was one of the most powerful I've ever seen,\" Azkrock said. \"Such power comes at a price. Without a guiding hand she would have become a raging storm.\" \n\n\"And so you kidnapped her?\" Cecil asked. \"That's an odd response.\"\n\n\"I know. She is my biggest failure.\" Azkrock stood. \"She had a natural talent. Such power... The thing about power is that it must be controlled by those who do not seek it. I only learned this when an ambitious princess learned to control an unstoppable power.\"\n\n\"Where is she?\" Cecil asked again, this time slightly less confident.\n\n\"The last time I saw her she had trapped me within these walls, to live a long life filled with regret.\" Azkrock removed his hood, showing greying brown hair and a hardened face. \"She is mad with power, far to the West. Once she amasses an army she will come back. I am certain of it.\"\n\n\"What are you going to do?\" Cecil asked. \n\n\"I do not know. Her power is still growing. I feel it, like a pulse against my head. If you can, get back to the king. Tell him of me, of my eternal imprisonment within my ruined castle. And tell him that far to the west lies an enemy beyond compare. As for me, I will remain here. You may take whatever you will need from my castle.\"\n\nAzkrock placed a hand on Cecil's shoulder. \n\n\"I leave the rest to you.\"" ]

[ 1, 3 ]

[ "1413173988", "1413173762" ]

[ "He'd worked hard, trying to cover every eventuality. What did the body have to do? He didn't know. The contest add didn't really say. \n\nHe'd went ahead and shot for the middle. He needed strength, so he used a gorilla's core, but grafted human arms and hands for the incredible dexterity. He also added a couple of pairs of octopus tentacles for versatility. An owl's eyes were crammed into a wolf skull, which retained the aural and nasal equipment of that predator for detection. A snake's tongue and Jacob's organs give extra sensory ability. All of this was rigged onto a perfect set of ostrich legs for raw speed. \n\nFor the life of him, he couldln't understand the looks of horror he got as he led his creation past all of the meatheads that were, inexplicably enough, also at the competition. ", "Victor flexed. He rippled. Under the hard spotlights the contours of his oiled body gleamed. He was tanned, cut, a hardbody, sculpted perfection and he hadn't picked up a syringe or a scalpel even once.\n\nHe struck a pose, isolating another muscle group, and there was an outburst from the front row as a respected pathologist from Ruritania lost all semblance of self control and tried to stuff his posing pouch full of Pfennigs. She was restrained by some helpful lab assistants. In the VIP box, the notorious Dr. Furter flashed him a lascivious grin and raised an eyebrow. He left the stage to a storm of applause and quite a lot of thrown underwear.\n\nHe was met in the wings by Igor, who handed Victor his robe, and Professor Twilight.\n\n\"I don't want to denigrate what you do, Victor, but...\"\n\n\"But next year, bring an animate corpse?\" finished Victor. He smiled.\n\n\"It's what the competition is all about, after all.\"\n\nVictor Frankenstein thought about this for a moment.\n\"Professor, I appreciate everything you say. But my time as a modern Prometheus is over. The crude surgery of my time has been superceded and eclipsed by genetic manipulation, cloning and even more esoteric techniques. What I do now is bring a little joy to the proceedings. And I have a few fans, here and there.\"\n\nProfessor Twilight sighed.\n\n\"I know, Frankenstein, I know. But they are not in the majority.\"\n\nFrankenstein slipped off his robe.\n\n\"Professor, I might be outnumbered,\" he said, flexing a bicep \"but I'm surely never outgunned.\"", "“And, uh, you’re his…trainer, Mr., umm…?” Brad Matthews glanced from the shorter, slightly oddly dressed man in front of him to the taller blond on the stage. The first man nodded. \n\n“It’s Doctor, actually. But call me Frank,” He replied, grinning.\n \n“Of course, my apologies. Would you mind if we interviewed the two of you for Sports Weekly? The fans would just love to know what the heck he did to get abs like that, you see.”\n\nThe Doctor seemed to perk up at the mention of an interview. He nodded even more quickly. “Oh, yes. We’d love that! It’s quite simple, actually.” \n\n“Delightful! How about we meet backstage after the final judging?” Brad asked. He glanced up from his note book, pushing his Clark Kent-esque glasses back onto his nose. The Doctor glanced off into the distance for a moment, as if trying to remember if he was busy or not. After a moment he looked back to Brad. \n\n“It’s a date!”\n \n Brad smiled, extending his hand to shake the Doctor’s. After exchanging goodbyes, he made his way back to his seat. He could scarcely wait to call his fiancé – after three months of getting assigned nothing but writing speedo reviews, it felt great to be in charge of something that would actually interest readers. And that contestant. He was going to win by a few laps, in runner’s terms. He’d never seen quite as perfect a body as that dude had. It was like the airbrushed, enhanced ones you’d see in his magazine’s pages, only it was real, raw, and unedited. He could only imagine how many hours that dude had put in at the gym. And his trainer, as odd as he seemed, must know what he’s talking about. \nBrad had to admit, when the Doctor had entered in the contest, he’d had his doubts. He looked more like a mad scientist than a miracle worker of a gym trainer, but he’d come through. Boy, had he ever come through. He’d shown up the next day with the most amazing contestant the judges had seen in years.\n\n The competition flew by, and sure enough, the blond dude won a grand prize. Brad wasted no time in hurrying backstage to talk to the pair. He found them easily enough – all he had to do was look for the awestruck crowd. \n\n“Frank! Could I have a minute?” He called, trying to hope above the swooning girls. The Doctor lit up when he saw him, and wasted no time in whispering something to the bodybuilder before leading him over. \n\n“This is the reporter I told you about,” He said excitedly. \n“Hi.” The bodybuilder said. \n\n“Hi,” Brad replied. “So, I just have a few questions. How long exactly did it take you to get a body like this, huh?”\n\nThe bodybuilder furrowed his brows, then counted off on his fingers. “The Doctor started working on me…5 months ago.”\n\n“That quickly? Gee! Was the training hard? How many hours a day did you work?”\n\n“Five or six hours a day, at least. And it was very hard!” The Doctor cut in. Brad scribbled that down in his note pad. He couldn’t help but feel shocked at the short time period. This Doctor really *was* a miracle worker.\n\n“Do you belong to any gym?” Brad glanced up again. \n\nThe bodybuilder shook his head. “I have my own…gym. The Doctor built it for me. Good for training.”\n\n“What about workout clothes? Any brand you prefer?” \n\nThe bodybuilder just stared at Brad, as though he’d never heard of brands before. After an awkward moment of silence, Brad shrugged. “I’ll take that as a no.”\n\n\n He asked a few more questions, like routine specifics or what tips they’d give to aspiring bodybuilders, then began to thank them. He paused at last minute, realizing he’d forgotten something. \n\n“Um, before I bid you farewell, Doctor – Frank-, where’d you say you were from again?” He couldn’t remember if they’d mentioned their hometown, but he’d likely need it for the introduction. \n\n“Transylvania,” The Doctor replied, giving a wink as though there was something terribly funny about that. Brad just nodded and wished them goodnight.\n\n\n(So, uh, I took a slightly different route with this. I read Dr. Frankenstein and body builders and thought of a certain cult classic...anyways, awesome prompts!)" ]

[ 1, 3, 38 ]

[ "1413261869", "1413229082", "1413180575" ]

[ "Tulip Marie Hammond was guilty.\n\nAnd Tulip Marie Hammond was innocent.\n\nBut Tulip Marie Hammond was guilty.\n\nStraps held her tight.\n\nHer final embrace would be bitter.\n\nHer final glance toward those she loved would be sweet.\n\nTo survive,\n\nshe did whatever needed to be done.\n\nReflecting face stared back at the blond woman\n\nwho refused to falter from her mindful sense of justice.\n\nThe family she protected, defended and killed for \n\nwere in attendance.\n\nHer chest was light,\n\nnever burdened with the blood she spilled.\n\nYet her heart was heavy,\n\nstruggling to arrive at the cold conclusion\n\nthat her crimes did not save her family\n\nbut broke it apart.\n\nA man in while\n\nstood at her side,\n\ntools polished and ready\n\nto take away a life that had taken away countless others.\n\nTulip closed her eyes,\n\nnot even listening to the final words spoken.\n\nWhat was done,\n\nwas done.\n\nWhat would be done,\n\nwould be done.\n\nChemicals pulsated through her frail veins\n\nher body began to shut down.\n\nHer mind pleaded with her body to stay strong,\n\ndefending herself even still.\n\nShe killed to save her family\n\nand she did not regret anything.\n\nAs the Tulip began to wither,\n\nher family clung together.\n\nVictims stood back\n\nfaces dirty but without shame.\n\nThe woman was now free,\n\nsins washed away\n\nthe seeds could now foster\n\nrefurbishment and nourishment\n\nfor all involved \n\nin the soulless murders that\n\nTulip Marie Hammond committed.", "Up till about a few years ago, they used to get last meals. Anything you wanted, the State paid for. Most guys never had a bite, of course. You stare at a sirloin long enough and your thoughts get queer. Start thinking about how you're a few hours away from being more or less meat yourself and the appetite just goes. Still, it was a kindness. The first thing that gets cut from budgets. They gave him a turkey sandwich with some extra mustard, the kind of low rent thoughtfulness that folks around here struggle for. It was a kindness too, but not the same.\n\nChaplain came buy and talked about rites. They went through the whole mumbo jumbo with hand holding. It he had to recall it, which after few minutes, he wouldn't have to recall anything any more, he'd say it was mostly the Pastor saying \"I'm sorry,\" and he saying \"I'm sorry too.\" Or the other way around. Details and sequence seem to have lost their significance.\n\nAbout twenty minutes to go, Officer Peters shows up. He's not bad for a screw. Some treat you like animals, some like criminals, and others just try and get through the day. Peters was between second and third, wasn't above pleasantries but held every inmate at arm's length. It's hard to tell if it was just the potential for violence or the need to remain detached from condemned men that kept him distant. Amos starts wondering about him, the things that happen outside the uniform and outside the block, but it's getting late.\n\nHis hands go through the door and the shackles go on. He walks out when the doors open and they chain his feet. His shackles are removed and adjusted to that he can shuffle with his arms behind his back. With a hand firmly on his bicep, Peters gets ready to lead him to the chamber. He's shaky on his feet and weak in the knees.\n\n\"You ok, Amos?\"\n\n\"Just tired is all, Simon.\"\n\nPeters acknowledges the sentiment with a gruff clearing of the throat. Something that says hold your head high without giving words to it. A primal invocation to facing finality with dignity. Right now it seems about the hardest thing he can muster, second only to the first step down the hall.\n\nH Block is solemn. He doesn't look at nobody except out of the corner of his eyes. They're all types, really--madmen and psychopaths, guys who came in right but got too stewed in their own juices, boys who got into bad jams and never got out. None were innocent, though more than a couple weren't guilty neither. But all were quiet. What was they watching? Their fate? His? Just another playact that they're too dumb to comprehend?\n\nPeters takes that first step and he wobbles best he can after him.\n\nWhat's strange, of course, is precisely how things don't change. The halls are tiled the same, the floor the same slate color. He wears the same clothes and walks under the same lights. Outside it might be sunny or slightly over cast. Really, there's no pomp that marks this day as different. It's kinda like walking through a mall of strangers on your birthday. Special, but they don't know it. The metaphor really ends right there, though.\n\nIn the chamber they lay him down on a gurney and strap him in with leather bindings. Off to his right side is a big darkened window pane. One of those one way mirrors he ain't seen since he was first pinched and the cops was beating a confession out of him. On the other side are folks that'll see Amos dead. He imagines them. Maybe it's her ma, a hard edged woman with knives for eyes. She didn't cry none during the trial, just glared. Didn't hug when the guilty verdict came down. Barely even spoke at the sentencing hearing. *My baby girl ain't coming back. He put her in the ground. Ain't no justice till he's there himself.*\n\nMaybe she ain't there, though. She was old then. Fourteen years is a long time. The kind of time that wears down most everything but hate. Maybe though, if she is watching, she could finally get some satisfaction. And Amos wouldn't begrudge her that. If that's all that came out of today, at least it would be something.\n\nThe IV goes in with a pinch. He feels mighty restless. He ain't lived nothing but a half life since he's been locked up but it seems so much better than what those needles promise.\n\nPrisoners don't get much in the way of news, but have plenty in terms of idle time. Guards too ain't got much on their hands but got plenty active tongues. Amos knows that Europe won't send the right drugs no more. Some companies just won't sell to the DoC. He knows folks got problems with his fate. His justice. Some of the guys on H Block get pretty righteous about it. Rights, rites, it's all the same. A little bit over his head and too charged for him to have a feeling of an informed opinion. Mostly he wonders about the hurt and how it feels not being. There is a vague desire for a hereafter, but really it leads to more trepidation when Amos starts wondering exactly where his ticket's been punched. He's not sure he should ask for redemption. A little embarrassed to even want mercy. But forever is so long.\n\nThe first drug goes in. Miz something now that they can't get the pentobarbital. It's supposed to numb the pain. Another low rent kindness, Amos supposes.\n\nFourteen years is hard to measure. One way is to look at it in terms of confinement. The last time he was able to piss without a witness. The last belt he owned. The last time he was laid. Another is in terms of lawyering. Appeals, motions, countermotions, disclosures and obfuscation, stays and executive orders. Lastly, there is a view of time since her last breath to his. Time is subjective like that, in inobvious ways. The linear march lends itself too easily to our preferred signposts.\n\nThe second drug goes in. It is meant to stop his heart. As the plunger pushes CCs of an otherwise indistinguishable chemical into his veins, Amos understands that he has now crossed the point of no return.\n\nIt is a lie to say he had no choice. His brother and sister knew the same want. His brother fixes cars. His sister answers phones for a doctor. He's seen his nephews once, before the visits became too burdensome. That is to say, there were other fates and options available to him. Even though he grew up broke, black, and angry. Even though she was white and college educated and had a loving family. He did not need a TV to fence. He did not need to hit her with a lamp. In hindsight, a burglary beef seems so much preferable to what happened. But that is not a benefit. It is a 20/20 curse.\n\nIn other words: the truth still escapes him. There are things that he did that he cannot undo. He would rather, given all he knows now, have been a better person. What is true is that he was wrong. What is true is that Amos is sorry.\n\nIt is also true that he feels more comfortable with other people telling him what he deserves, rather than having to reckon it himself.\n\nVaccuuming bromide, or some homophone thereof, is the last need to go into the IV. It will stop his breathing. Within a few minutes, his lights will dim and unbeknownst to him, either his heart or his lungs or maybe both will cease their reflexive functions. They, above all, have been indifferent to notions of right and wrong, pumping him through fourteen years without care for the pain inflicted on himself and others.\n\nIt is his time to go quietly into the night. Yet fate has too many contours and grooves to reach the stated ends of Those Who Would Ordain It. With the same caprice that led Amos Butler to shoot down Mary Lou Sheppard in the course of a home burglary gone awry, so it went that the things coursing his veins--criminality, regret, resentment, confusion, potassium chloride--conspired not to work in harmony towards an end. Rather it was that he, back arched and body racked with a crushing pain about the heart, went shuddering painfully into his final good bye, coughing, gagging, and trying to bellow that it wasn't supposed to have happened like this." ]

[ 1, 1 ]

[ "1413230097", "1413231388" ]

[ "\"Spreche ich Deutsch?\" the Indian said in disbelief.\n\n\n\"Am I speaking German?\" kicked out the translator.\n\n\n\"Ha, eso es raro como el infierno\" the Brit laughed. He hesitated as he mentally walked back through his words.\n\n\nThe little metal box spoke \"Ha, that's weird as hell\"\n\n\n\"Mā, sore wa jissai ni wa mondaide wa arimasenga, sore wa sukoshi kimyōdesu...\" sounded a bit odd coming from the Russian, but the translator dutifully did its thing\n\n\n\"Well, it isn't really problematic, but it is a bit strange...\"\n\n\nWork continued on the space elevator without disruption.", "\"Aig ngoi glsh gios?\" Grace paused, confused she tilted her head at what came out of her mouth. \"Ngdi?\"\n\nEveryone stopped to look over at Grace, wondering why she was speaking gibberish.\n\n\"Ugoirj oasfhr...ierua? fdojis!\" Henry tried to question her gibberish, only to be confronted by his own. Many others began trying to speak, all finding the same quality of language to come out as they spoke.\n\n\"gioaejhyr!\" One person squeaked, while another simply sat in silence not wishing to join the growing insanity.\n\n\"IUOFDH KDLJHG LHSDG OIGHJ!\" People began yelling, trying to understand what had become of them. \"MFD NIOET NIOGEN BGUIOGI! OIGFEJ!\"\n\nEventually everyone grew tired from yelling and sat there, solemn and confused.\n\n\"Aige greag mgdfi...\"" ]

[ 2, 6 ]

[ "1413277459", "1413275719" ]

[ "I sat in my car anxious, pissed off and hot. It was a massive heat wave that enveloped the I-605 south. The heat was like a student loan officer, no matter where you went, no matter where you go, you couldn't escape. \nThe bumper to bumper traffic only increased the feeling of anger and helplessness; I wanted to kill somebody. It didn't help that the air-conditioner in my car wasn't working \n\nas I blasted the radio I began to think of home and it's lovely accommodations, air conditioning, cold water, etc. I searched for something on the radio when suddenly, something darted by my car. I check my side-view mirrors: it was a dog. The leash was still warped around it's neck. \n\"What the fuck is a dog doing on the freeway?\" I thought \"Did it jump out of someone's car?\" I contemplated. I turned my head from the mirrors and leaned forward towards the windshield to see if I could spot the owner but only saw people poking their heads out of their windows just as bewildered as I was. And that's when I heard it \"*REEEEEAAAAAAAGGGHH*\" it was an ugly squeal that seemed to echo across the freeway. \nA man next to me poked his head out of the passenger side \"You hear that shit?\" he asked, looking for confirmation. \"Hell yeah, scared the shit out of me.\" I replied, giving said confirmation. \"What do you think made it?\" he asked. \"I have no clue, it sounds like a women swallowed cigars, rusty nails and washed it down with some whiskey.\" I answered. \"Shit, couldn't put it better myself.\" he said as he and the driver laughed. As we sat in our cars a guy walked up the freeway, he was hunched over and looked very tall. He was walking in a rushed manner and appear to be wearing a red sweatshirt and grey pants. The heat bouncing of the ground made it hard to make out his features, it almost looked like he was underwater. \"Hey man, you think that's the owner of the dog?\" I said to the guy next to me. \"Maybe, he doesn't seem to much in a hurry though.\" said the guy. \"I know it's like he's taking a brisk walk on the fucking beach,\" as I said this, I realized something \"wait, maybe he has heat stroke.\" I said in a panicky tone. \"Shit, you might be right, heat makes people do weird shit.\" he replied. I sat in my car not sure what to do, I could call the 911, but there was no way they could get through this fucked up traffic. I thought about walking over there myself but I couldn't leave my car. Suddenly, the guy nest to me got out of his car. \"I'll be back bro, this dude needs some help.\" he said, armed with a water bottle. \"Be careful, man.\" I said cautiously. \"Sure thing,\" he replied with a smile. \"name's John by the way.\" he said.\n\"Tommy.\" I replied. He slowly jogged through the cars, careful enough to watch for signals and cars moving. But when John was about maybe 80 feet from the man wandering the freeway John stopped. and the wandering man stopped. And the wandering man's back straightened, and he raised his head, and that's when I heard that sound again *REEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHH*\" John quickly ran away and the figure gave chase. Even at John's highest speed he couldn't get away and the creature tackled him. I reached into glove compartment and pulled out an alligator wrench. I rushed out of my car and the driver of John's car was ahead of me \"John!\" he screamed. We both ran as fast as we could to reach them. But when we reached John and the creature, it was already to late. It was an ugly, grey, humanoid thing with long claws and a hunchback, it had yellow eyes and two rows of razor sharp teeth. It was covered in blood and feasting on John's lifeless body. \"Son of a bitch, you'll pay for this fucker.\" yelled the driver. The creature rose it's head and coiled like a cobra. It snarled loudly and prepared to attack. I readied my self, I didn't know what was gonna happen but either way this thing was not going to get out of this unscathed. As it lunged forward shots rang out and the creature, riddled with bullets, fell. \"You guys ok?\" asked the highway patrolman. \"I think so, we're not hurt.\" I replied. \"Good,\" he sighed \"we've been getting reports about these things all day, I advise that you both get back in your cars and wait patiently while I call for back up and direct traffic.\" he ordered. \"What about John?\" asked his friend. \"Sorry, but this is now a crime scene and you must leave the premises.\" said the patrolman. We both walked away, I felt like I should've said something but my mind was blank. As we walked off, I looked back, and I saw John, he was turning grey and his eyes were turning yellow. ", "The stretch of cars beyond and behind me leered, the curve far ahead bending the road into what looked like a sly grin. A droll voice was commenting on the still traffic. The air conditioning barely buffeted the invasive heat; my tie and blazer lay discarded in the passenger seat. I sat in my car for what seemed to be an eternity, eyes growing heavy despite the choking calidity. We hadn't moved in half an hour, and I had busted my ass today. I just wanted to get home, to unwind in cool complacency. \n\nBut that wouldn't be for a very long time, if ever. The road leered.\n\nAs my eyelids danced their tired dance, a quick burst of motion in my side mirror hurtled me back to consciousness. A man in a white button-up darted from a silver Corolla. His hair was disheveled, brown. His sleeves were rolled up.\n\nHe looked exactly like me. \n\nI watched him weave between the stalled vehicles, his movements too uncannily similar to mine. I glanced between the traffic, miles ahead and motionless, and the panicked man behind me.\n\nI leapt out of a silver Corolla, pinpointing my running twin. I chased. \n\nAs he reached the guardrail, he frantically turned towards me. A jolt fizzled through him, he turned, he tried to jump over it. I caught his arm and jerked him back. Forest-green eyes stared into my own. An arm branded with an image of the solar system was inches from my identical tattoo. I looked the man up and down. I was staring into a mirror - only, there was no mirror.\n\n\"Who are you,\" I panted. \"Why do you look exactly like me? Why are you running?\"\n\nHis lips began to move. *My* lips. \"Please, let me go. For your own good, don't ask any more questions. Forget me.\" His eyes were imploring, his arms shaking feverishly. I maintained my grip.\n\n\"No. Are you my twin? Are you a stalker? What are you?\"\n\nMy doppleganger looked around, likely trying to plan escape. His - *my* - eyes rested on mine once again; they looked defeated. And tired. So very tired.\n\n\"I told you not to ask... but I can't blame you. I'm not you, obviously. But I am, also. I..\" He sighed, limbs going limp. I released my hold on his arm. \"For so long I have stolen lives. I never asked for this. I found myself in a situation like this. Stuck. I saw someone that looked like me. I went up to them, asked them what you asked me. I told you that you should go...\"\n\nHe began to mumble. I felt my pulse quicken. This guy was mad, and he had made himself my twin. I was in a dangerous situation. I began to back away.\n\nHis eyes grew wide. \"Things will change. Try to live a normal life. Try not to feel guilty. Just avoid your other as long as you can. Let them be happy for as long as they can. Don't make the mistakes I have.\" His tired eyes were fixed on me. It was surreal, seeing myself so deeply and terribly sad. \"You won't believe this now, but you will. I am going to replace you. I will live as you until I find another that looks like me - the original me. You'll always find someone that is a twin of your true self, and you will swap with that person. You will assume their true appearance and live as them, and vice-versa, until the cycle repeats. It's terrible, it's cruel, and I have suffered it for hundr-\"\n\nI sped away from him. I darted between cars that were slowly beginning to move. I flung open the door and slid into the seat. As I began to inch away, I saw the mirror man standing by the guard rail. He stared at me with sad green eyes. I looked back to the road. The hood of my car was orange. Bright, frantic blue eyes looked back at me in the rear-view mirror. \n\nIn the distance, the road gently curved. It looked almost like a smug smile." ]

[ 1, 2 ]

[ "1413271402", "1413271021" ]

[ "Futurama S03E39", " I open my open my eyes trying to push away the grogginess of the morning. My body aches all over from the night before but somehow I feel empowered by it. It's kind of like that feeling you get when you have a hard workout. That feeling when you know you wanted to quit but you kept fighting.\n \n I close my eyes again trying to wake up from this nightmare but when I open them I'm still in this night-\n \n \"CELL 1-1-5-9-9 PREPARE FOR ENTRANCE\", then there's a click and my door begins to open. Men begin to flood my room and I'm taken by the arms and thrust from my bed to the floor. One of them takes a device from his pocket and a shock feels my body.\n\n \nIm sorry if anyone (Which I doubt) wants to read the rest of this. I'm new to writing and i just couldn't pull it out of me to finish this story. I read somewhere that It was bad to just quit a story so I'm just going to post this anyway.", "They Called it Salvation \n\nYou can blame the 2% Society for the current mess we are in, i.e upcoming human extinction\n\nApparently this group of whack jobs decided that world peace was not an option and with vast resources at hand developed a piece of technology that pacified the human race they called it Project Salvation. I called it the Zed Field.\n\nThis wasn't shall we say an optimal plan, oh it stopped ISIS, Russia, the US, terrorists well everybody and enabled humanity as a whole to deal with the effects of global warming and environmental decay pretty well but there were side effects.\n\nThe more things that were forced from people, the more damage done and pretty soon they were incapable of doing anything.\n\nFrantic efforts to reprogram the unit to get people to just perform basic functions worked to some degree,people eat, drink, sleep and so on but they don't do something very important.\n\nReproduce.\n\nApparently the amount of mind control used to make society sort of keep together had rendered people asocial and neuter. No one has sex or even communicates and while they can be programmed to mimic sex , male hydraulics don't work and women can't carry to term.\n\nMy hacking has shown that the 2% had planned to escape the effects by careful direction of the transmitters but something happened along the way, during the emergency phase and they were caught too. Hubris Begets Nemesis \n\nThere is however a slim chance for humanity . There is a facility, unguarded, deep in the Australian Outback with a computer intelligence that runs the mind-web and if I can get to it, I might, might be able to turn the thing off. Its protected by a Zed Field strong enough to kill. I seem to be immune though. \n\nIts a daunting task to even consider. I have to by myself get from Salt Lake City Utah to 400 miles into the Australian Outback without help or support. I barely drive , have never flown a plane and know little of boating or Australia. I'm no adventurer . \n\nI'm giving it another week with the Ham radio before I finish assembling the supplies. I'm hoping for a signal, someone anyone like me. If I can find that, we are going. If not I'll go it alone and if I die at least I'll die well. \n\nSo if anybody is getting this message, contact me. ASAP I could sure use the help \n\nBrody out.", "So essentially Divergent?", "It's funny how easy it is to get away with....... pretty much anything in a world where everyone is under mind control.\n\nIt started in Laos, of all places. A brilliant scientist managed to figure out how to transmit human though to machines. The part that began this horror show was the fact that his research showed how the mind worked with far more accuracy than any prior studies. Laos, or rather its insane leader whose name I can't recall, quickly kidnapped the poor man. Within 3 weeks they had put together the first of the Mind Suppressor beacons, and the world had fallen to once insignificant Laos in a matter of months.\n\nHowever, something strange happens when the majority of humanity thinks the same way. There is sort of a *reverberation* among the last of the free-thinkers, and they slowly start to join the rest of the mindless masses. Even the government of Laos, including the bastard how started all this and the scientist, fell victim to this phenomena.\n\nI, however, seem to be different. When there were still a few of us left, everyone else often commented on the pull they felt to act mindlessly. I did not. I felt no pull, no urge to join the empty minded masses.\n\nSince then, I have discovered that I can do anything with impunity.\nPeople still go on with their lives, eating, working, and even inventing. But there is no independent thought behind their actions, no personality. It is like living in a world full of robots. No one says anything if I take something, whether it is food or a new laptop, and I can pick any empty house I want to live in. They even make new video games, so I'm not totally bored. \n\nSo I have everything I could want, without even having to work for it, I should have no problems, right? *Sigh*. A world full of robots is damn lonely. I can't even have sex, because no girl is even *able* to talk to me, and I'm not about to resort to rape. The Internet is silent, no one has an opinion to voice or a need for entertainment.\n\nI don't know how, but I have to find someone.", "*The following posts are taken from an online blog. Post dates follow the Gregorian Calendar and some posts contain language considered offensive at the time of posting.*\n\n \n\n*Apr 12 2015*\n\n\nEveryone’s so distant today. :(\n\n \n\n*Apr 13 2015*\n\n\nMark hasn’t spoken to me all day. I wish he would just tell me what’s wrong. I can’t help if he doesn’t communicate. Why take it out on me?\n\n \n\n*Apr 14 2015*\n\n\nSomething is seriously wrong. People are more than just distant. I couldn’t put my finger on it over the weekend, but today... On the way to work it occurred to me just how peaceful everything was. Sitting in rush hour traffic and there was just... peace. No horns no jacked up radios just peace.\n\nEveryone is behaving just like Mark. It’s like they’re all under some kind of spell. I just left the office and no one batted an eye. No one has called wondering where I am.\n\nAnd it’s everyone. I spent most of yesterday evening checking for cameras, I got it into my head I was being Punk’d. I’m waiting desperately for someone to ask me ‘Are you scared?’ Because I should be... and I am. But if it’s a trick it’s one hell of a trick. I can’t find a single new social post anywhere on the internet. No one is answering their phones, no one is answering Skype.\n\nI just tried checking the news. The anchors are just sitting there. Staring. They’re not saying anything!\n\nWhat. The. Fuck.\n\nIs there anybody out there?\n\n \n\n*Apr 19 2015*\n\n\nWhat would do something like this? To control and entire species of sentient creatures and do nothing but have them continue their daily routines. It’s been a few days since I last posted, nothing has changed. Everyone is just going through the motions. They wake, eat, go to work and come home again. \n\nTwo days ago I was just watching them at the grocery store. The checkout lines now a master class in item processing efficiency. Yes, they all still shop, and the workers still take payment. The only words I’ve heard live since this whole thing started are the dispassionate declarations of sum totals. I let my anger out at an old man picking tinned beans off a shelf. It was as if I didn’t even exist.\n\nIt’s hard. Mark still sleeps next to me. Most mornings I wake to find myself snuggled up to him, as if nothing has changed. But things *have* changed, he no longer snuggles back. I think tonight I will take the couch. I just can’t.\n\nSomeone please tell me what’s going on. This isn’t funny.\n\n \n\n*Apr 23 2015*\n\n\nI have started conducting experiments. There must be some kind of limit to what people will tolerate before snapping out of it. Today I escalated from verbal to physical harassment. You should see how they react, or rather how they don’t. I will shove someone as hard as I am able and they will stumble momentarily before resuming their prior activity. It’s fascinating. Stand in their way and they’ll just walk around you. In the moment I’m always paranoid that the person will suddenly ask me what I think I’m doing, before the men in white coats come and swiftly take me away.\n\nUpside, I walked out of the grocery store with a full bag of items and no one stopped me. I haven’t been to work in days and no one has called, not even to tell me I’m fired. I won’t be going back. Too creepy.\n\nFree food and no work I could get used to though. :)\n\n \n\n*Apr 24 2015*\n\n\nThey’re still people, I have to believe that, and I don’t want to hurt anyone. But just shoving and impeding people isn’t working. I have to be more scientific about this. I thought perhaps the shock of pain would wake someone up. \n\nI was wrong. Slap, punch, kick... Not so much as an “Excuse me.” It’s funny how quickly you can go from being hesitant, to almost enjoying the primal relief the violence has, especially under such frustrating circumstances. I must try to keep that in check.\n\n \n\n*Apr 26 2015*\n\n\nI couldn’t stand watching him sit silently eating cereal in the morning, so yesterday I hid the cereal. He made toast. Fuck you and fuck your toast. I want him back, the real him, not this cruel reminder. \n\nThis morning I woke early and tied him to the bed. He’s in there now. I thought maybe if I could bring a halt to the routine it might change something. He struggled against the bindings for about 5 measly seconds before accepting his new circumstances. Now he just lies there, impotent. Perhaps whoever or whatever is doing all this will notice his break protocol and I’ll finally get to confront them.\n\n \n\n*Apr 29 2015*\n\n\nI’m a horrible person. Today I went to bathe him and unwittingly discovered he was still... *responsive*... to certain stimuli. I used him him there and then. I’m not proud of it, but until you have lived this you will never understand what it’s like to lose so much intimacy so suddenly. This is so fucked up. \n\nI know now he isn’t coming back. None of them are coming back.\n\n \n\n*May 04 2015*\n\n\nI’ve got nothing left to lose. It’s desperate measures time. I let Mark’s place holder go back to doing it’s ever so important job of whatever the fuck people do at warehouses now that no one wants anything. Earlier I wondered what exactly the UPS vans still driving around were actually doing. \n\nI ordered one of those animal control poles off of Amazon. The whole system still functions. This morning the doorbell rang and there he was, void of expression, package and clipboard in hand. I signed and off he went. Maybe these place holders still buy stuff I don’t know.\n\nI caught a woman. She’s vaguely familiar, just a face around the neighbourhood I guess. She’s locked in the basement now. There are things I need to try that I couldn’t bring myself to try on place holder Mark. I should be down there doing it now but I’m a coward. I need a hard drink first.\n\n \n\n*May 05 2015*\n\n\nIf they feel pain, they don’t show it.\n\n \n\n*May 06 2015*\n\n\nI never pictured myself googling ‘how to dispose of a body’, I wonder if it still raises an alert somewhere. I wonder what law enforcement even does any more. No one I’ve fucked with has called on them.\n\nShe was a lot heavier going out than coming in, I didn’t consider that. I hoped I might see some kind of spark relight as the end overcame, but her dead eyes just stayed dead. Maybe they are all dead. Maybe it’s some kind of virus that kills the conscious part of the brain, and only I am immune to it. No it can’t be, too sudden.\n\nSomeone give whoever invented vodka a medal.\n\n \n\n*May 08 2015*\n\n\nMy sights now are set firmly on pissing off whatever is behind this shit show. If they want everything running like clockwork well, I’m gonna jam a great big spanner in the works. Maybe once they’re missing a few pawns they might react. I realise now that they’re all as good as dead already... and that’s liberating.\n\n \n\n*May 15 2015*\n\n\nI’ve lost count. I’m having nightmares. When will they stop me?????\n\nPlease just someone somewhere let me know that it isn’t all just fucking fucked...\n\n \n\n***Oct 22 2018***\n\n\nHaha wow I forgot about this blog. Reading all the past entries has been a real cute trip down memory lane. I guess this one’s for you future archaeologists, *human or other.*\n\nI wish I could offer some kind of closure, but hell, you probably know more than me. I never have discovered the acting force behind all this. Certainly whatever it is it doesn’t care one iota about the people it controls. I’ve killed so many. So fucking many...\n\n\nTonight is movie night. My pick. I’ve never been about the whole comic movie dealio but... well Mark loves the Avengers so why not? After all, it will be our last night together. I’ve decided there is nothing more I can do, so I’m going to go travel. I mean fuck it, I can do pretty much whatever I want right?\n\n\nBefore I go though, there is one last thing I need to do. I’m going to set Mark free... finally. It’s out of pure selfishness that I haven’t done it sooner. If there’s any part of him still in there I know it wants this ordeal over. After all, what kind of life is work / eat / sleep for a human being?\n\n \n\n*No further posts were made. This currently remains the only first hand account of the Concensus ever to be recovered.*" ]

[ 1, 1, 2, 2, 7, 20 ]

[ "1413436215", "1413447860", "1413440339", "1413464315", "1413434337", "1413439057" ]

[ "He woke up. Looked in the mirror at shards of broken glass, reflecting the pain. He left for work, exposing himself to the monotonous, depressing, arduous tasks that he desperately needed in order to stay afloat on this Earth. It was enough. He came home and sunk. He killed himself.\n\n*I tried, might be a poem, but I like it.*", "\"It was back in '82 I met Winston - course back then it was a normal name, and I had no idea what he would end up doing.\"\n\nOne of the scientists piped up \"*Would have done* - if it weren't for you.\"\n\n\"Right,\" sighed Sam, \"*'Would have'*... god damned time travel.\"\n", "He shook in the seat, clasping his hands. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. The doors opened, and someone stepped through. Expectantly, he looked up at them. A grim frown slid onto his face after seeing the doctor’s expression. Her eyes told him that it was exactly what he had feared. Another miscarriage.", "The brisk air rustled the leaves above them, and as she stood, he hesitated for a brief moment. As though tying his shoe, he knelt, and pulled something from his jacket pocket. A small black box. Her eyes grew alarmingly wide, and he smiled his warmest smile. She said yes.", "Every morning I sit in this machine.\n \nThe grooves in the cushion match the curves of my spine. \n\nThat spine is the central column to my prison.\n\nI release my hands from the wheel to finally steer. \n\nI floor the pedal. \n\nThe hose through the window is my great escape.", "I'm going to do it. I'm going to pick a prompt and write something. It doesn't have to be a big, flashy story; all it needs to be is *something* dammit! \n\nI just want to be past this writer's block. I just want the damn words to come out! Please!", "He had had it with this infestation. The weevils had completely decimated his crops. Shaking his fist at his desolate fields, he vowed revenge.\n\nThe following year, a friend told him, “Just use poisoned honey to trace a path to a trap.”\n\n“Why?”\n\n“Honey is the route of all weevils.”", "The stick shakes but after a calm breath, she steadies it, another inhale and…release. She waits. The box says two minutes is all it takes. \nA door opens downstairs and her skin vibrates with tension. Movement on the stairs and then he’s there. \nThey both look at the stick: POSITIVE.\n", "\"Wake up, mommy\", he cried over his mother's bloodied corpse.\n\n\"I was just playing, please wake up, mommy.\"\n\nEyes drenched, he feebly attempted to wipe the mixture of tears and blood out of his eyes.\n\nLife would never be the same. He was just trying to play on the roof.", "The time has come.\n\nThe signal boosting and sympathetic comments did their job.\n\nNow there are enough.\n\nChildren, teens, and elders alike are summoned.\n\nThey heed the call.\n\nEveryone joins together as one.\n\nNo more need for shouts into the void.\n\nThe skeleton war is upon us.\n\nWe're all dead.", "I smelled smoke, but no alarms sounded.\nI hurried to Mom's room and found her asleep in her chair.\nI licked her hand.\nShe stirred.\nI called for her.\nShe awoke.\nSmoke filled the air.\nThe flames engulfed the curtains.\nWe fled outside.\nCoughing, she patted my head, \"Good Boy!\"", "The first time I was kidnappend by aliens I was 12. They used their probes on me and everything, then sent me back home. \n\nMy parents think that made me gay, although I'm not attracted to men. But it's better they believe that than know about my green men fetish. ", "(An example, perhaps?)\n\nClean, tidy, and organized. Just how she liked it. Everything exactly where she thought it should be. \n\nIt didn't matter to her that God had put hands on wrists on arms. She preferred hands sewn onto backs.\n\nAnd so, with a needle, some thread, and the occasional gunshot, she reorganized. ", "All the roses died in the middle of the summer, when the sun's heat was the strongest. Their dried petals fell to the ground. No breeze moved them. All that remained was a garden of empty stems. \n\nBut once autumn came, it set the stage for next year's dead roses.", "Today's the day.\nWednesday. \n\nToday I will tell the girl of my dreams that I love her.\n\nMy watch reads 7:56AM.\n\nShe'll be here soon.\n\nMy fear grows.\n\nI grasp the rose in my pocket.\n\n8:00am, she'll walk through.\n\n\"Hi\", she said, passing by, with her friend next to her.\n\nTomorrow's the day. Thursday.", "Eggs and toast. \n\n\nSame shit, every day.\n\n\nI look up at the sun with one thought.\n\n\n\n\nToday.\n\n\nToday, I will change my life.\n\n\n\nI will talk to my kids.\n\n\nI will hug my wife.\n\n\n.. most importantly.\n\n\n\nI will smile. I will fucking smile.\n\n\n\nThe morning alarm goes off- I’m awake. Tomorrow.\n" ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 6, 11 ]

[ "1413426873", "1413427121", "1413427217", "1413427719", "1413430561", "1413431981", "1413432397", "1413433776", "1413434914", "1413437284", "1413439842", "1413501091", "1413426358", "1413430539", "1413427776", "1413426680" ]

[ "How would one know it wasn't their blood, short of being a different color or something fucky like that?", "I TOLD EVERYONE I WAS FEELING FINE\nBUT I'M COUGHING UP BLOOD, AND IT AIN'T MINE!\nAnd then thrashing. Terrible, electric, distorted, thrashing.\n\nHailey hated this noise, she hated this \"music\". \n\nBut she loved Chelsea.\n\nThat’s the reason she was here right? Bouncing around in a sea of humanity listening to four technical college dropouts thrash away on craigslist specials. She was here because she loved Chelsea.\n\nShe loved her pierced lip and scraggily hair, she loved her quick laugh and the way she made coffee black yet mild.\nAnd when Chelsea had asked her to come to the concert tonight how could Hailey say no?\n\nShe’d been trying to work up the courage to ask her out for months. Months of coming into the coffee shop and ordering the same drink and making the same jokes and enjoying that quick laugh. She couldn’t say no.\n\nEven though she was now in her own personal hell. Sweaty bodies grinding against one another as too loud music breaches the sanctuary of her ears. But what made it all better was the sweaty grinding body to her right.\n\nWith every pulse of the crowd backwards and forwards Chelsea would spoon into Hailey. \n\nIn those moments Hailey was in heaven. Those moments made the concert fly by.\n\nIn the last moments, during the power ballad, Chelsea leaned back into Hailey. Hailey wrapped her arms around, the moment is right.\n\nThey kiss, it’s wet, It’s glorious, It’s everything Hailey wanted.\n\nShe pulls bag and looks into Chelsea’s eyes, terror flashes across them.\n\nIt’s only then that she sees the blood pouring from Chelsea’s mouth. \n\nShe was dying, choking, and could not be heard over the crowd.\n\nHailey tries to scream. But begins to choke and cough.\n\nRed mist sprays onto Chelsea’s face. The crowd is panicking around her as everyone falls to the same affliction.\n\nChelsea and Hailey fall to the ground, the crowd is panicked, trampling like wild animals.\n\nOne thought runs through Hailey’s mind as they die.\n\n“I’m coughing up blood, and it ain’t mine. “\n\n", "\"Freddy!\" His mom yelled, backing deeper into the empty house.\n\n\"It's me, ma!\" Her son laughed, stepping through the shattered glass. She watched as his silhouette, blackened by the full moon illuminating through the broken front door, walked in, eagerly slicing the soles of his feet to see is long lost mommy, cracking and snapping the glass underfoot.\n\n\"Stay back, Fred!\" She rose the bat and continued her shivering walk higher up the ascending stairs, \"Stay back!\"\n\nFreddy sighed, \"Ma! This how ya gonna be like when ya first born see ya?\" He stood at the foot of the stair case, black blood stains shimmer through the glass. The only source of light is the moon through the front door, well, until Freddy says, \"Ma, now ya got me worried, you be walking these stairs backward, and with not a care for ya tender hip.\" He flicks on the light switch, the over head light beams on, exposing the couple to each other-\n\n\"Oh my Lord!\" Ma bursts into a shattering yell, seeing her long lost first born. She drops the bat and begins cry. \n\n\"No, no, no! Mama!\" He lays one pale hand over the banister, taking a step up. \"Rejoice!\" His voice took on deeper tone, something intelligible, and godforsaken. \"Your son,\" - another step - \"is alive, once battered and bruised,\" - another step - \"lost and sorrowed,\" - another step - \"rejoice, mother! I am FOUND.\" His voice booms, shaking with a gravity of its own. \"I'm back, mama!\" Reverting back to Freddy. Simple Freddy. \"And I love you, ma.\" He takes a knee at the last step to his mother. \"I'm back, ma, and I love ya.\" His pale four finger hand reaches and takes his mothers shivering, veiny hand, and he kiss the palm of it. His lips leave a crimson stain. \n\n\"F-Fred,\" His mother stutters to say, \"What happen to you and your dad?\"\n\n\"Pa, well he made sure I get like this - lying son-of-a-gun... But, ma,\" His pure ebony eyes look dark up, reflecting to the mother her own worry torn face, \" les not ask questions that'll put us in an ick. I'm back, and we should praise the high power, ma.\"\n\nUnblinking, she whispers, \"Do you mean... God?\"\n\nFreddy flinches inward, hunching at an internal pain, red leaks over his lips. But, over the hunger, he says, \"Ye-Yes, ma! G-\" Before he could finish His name, Freddy heaves out a heap of blood, over the banister, white maggots uncurl as it hits the ground.\n\n\"Ma,\" Freddy says over the stabbing pain, \"please, dontcha yell, it hurts me worser than this here...\"\n\nHis mother covers here mouth, closing her eyes and begins to silently pray, she too is kneeling with her son.\n\"Why'd you come back, Freddy, why! Oh, Lord, please don't hurt me!\"\n\n\"Mama! How could you even think dat?\" With both mangled hands, he grabs his mothers aged, folded hands, and says, \"You deserve what I and Pa stole from you, Mama, you deserve a proper prayer for Billy-\" He turns his head and coughs. Violently couch, he tips backward, about to tumble down the stairs, before his mother takes his rancid torso into her arms, holding him up. His coughs being to flow red, and he grips on to his mothers sweater, gagging on the blood. In her hold, he looks at her, smiling through the blood, \"I'm coughing blood and it ain't even mine! Ha!\" He throws his head up and over the banister, hosing the lower floor in maggot-filled red ooze. He drops down, sinking on to the stair before his mother. \n\nShe is speechless. \n\nHe gets up and takes he hands once more, looking into her eyes, he says, \"Les pray one more time, mama, you and me and Billy-boy, like em ol' days.\" He bows his head, and closes his eyes. \"Pray that one you do for them boys at Sunday school.\"\n\nThe mother's eyes tear at the memory of her two boys playing in the field, Sunday birds humming in the distance.\n\"Okay... For you and Billy.\"\nFreddy lets out a soft cry at his name, and holds back his black tears, but says, \"Bill be doing good, ma, he happy where he goes. Now, ma, don't stop the prayer until its finished, no matter what makes me violent, jus keep doin it for us.\"\nThe mother nods and begins the prayer.\n\n\"For God\" Freddy instantly twitches his neck, snapping sounds from every broken bone being to crack, he groans in pain, \"so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son,\" from every unhealed wound, Freddy bleeds blood that gave him life, \"that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.\"\n\nThe air picks up around them, whirling and shaking the house.\n \n\"For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.\" Freddy, piece by piece, begins to chip away, chunks of pale-blue flesh fall and whither away.\n\n\"Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because they have not believed in the name of God’s one and only Son.\" The wind bellows, spashing the rotten intestinal gunk over his mother and around the house. \n\n\"This is the verdict:\" She roars, hearing the whispers of terrible deed through the unnatural wind. \"Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil.\" Freddy's jaw is torn off, his tongue beings to melt into a thick puddle. \n\n\"Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that their deeds will be exposed. But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what they have done has been done in the sight of God.\"\n\nThe wind stops. She opens her eyes and Freddy is no longer there. The stink and rot has evaporated, the chunks of flesh have vanished. The broken door is still broken.\n\nShe stands up and calls her ex-husband.\n\n\"When can you come to fix the door?... That's fine. By the way, Frank, hows Freddy? You've been looking after him ...he's been working for you- oh 'he's doing fine'? Really... Put him on the phone- oh he's gone? Fishing... Frank- Frank - You're gonna get whats coming to you-\"\n", "The response was no. I was adamant. I would not take no for an answer. I was warned about the risks, the filth, but I wasn't really listening. I went ahead and did it anyways. The chance to save millions with this one sided effort. I would not be stopped. \n\nI let my emotions get the best of me. The deed was done. Hours later I began to feel sick. Coughing up this blood in the stretcher the paramedics asked me what happened? You did what!? They asked incredulously while looking at me with disgust. \"I couldn't help it\" I said. \"I love her THAT much\" ", "No! Not like this! Jumped to my feet; sprinted the walkway.\n\nNo! Not here! All smiles faded. Water and slick grass under my feet.\n\nNow on my knees. Pounding, pounding again and again.\n\nScreams all around.\n\nA blaring siren swift approaching.\n\nKiss me back!\n\n\"Let go! LET GO OF ME!\"\n\n\"It's no use, she's already dead.\"\n\nA cascade of coughs and tears.\n\nMy love on the sidewalk, a bullet through the neck.\n\nMy mouth tasted of death and revenge.\n\nI'm coughing up blood and it should be mine.", "The blood spilled out of my mouth. As I had destroyed the soldier sent to kill me, by ripping out his throat, some blood had went into my lungs. \nI was the last of my kind, thanks to the \"brave\" and \"courageous\" soldiers. So what, I was a vampire. I had never hurt a person before the war began. \nThey had hunted us down because we were unknown to them. But we hit back like a rolling train. The secrets scared them more than death, so they chose to embrace the later. By starting this war they had ensured the genocide of an entire species, for neither one of us would stop fighting till the other was dead. \nThis lead to where I am now. In the middle of a war zone, standing above a dead human. His blood was sweet, maybe O-negative. But it got caught in my throat, making me cough it up onto the bloodied grass. It stuck to my throat and felt warm. \nI cried at the bodies of my kind, who lay among the dead. It was chilling, seeing them mixed in so perfectly with the ones they killed. And I was the last. And the blood I coughed up was of the last human. \nI shed a tear, for now both of us were dead.", "I'm coughing up blood that isn't mine,\nA finger of fear shivers down my spine,\nJust a week ago I'd been feeling fine,\nBut, now there's blood that is not mine.\n\nThe patient had been very sick,\nThe Ebola virus deadly quick,\nI, the doctor they had picked,\nTo handle blood that was not mine.\n\nHer eyes blazed red in slackened face,\nI took note of jaundice in her case,\nAnd my pulse sped up its pace,\nWhen I saw blood that was not mine.\n\nHer airway blocked with a choking rasp,\nI searched for vitals as she gasped,\nHer fingers moving - unclenched, clasped,\nShe vomited blood that was not mine.\n\nUp it came, this fountain of red,\nSpeckling my eyes, my mouth, her bed,\nThen the patient lay still; dead,\nAnd I spat blood that was not mine.\n\nSeveral days have passed me by,\nWith headaches, nausea - 'Why me!' I cry,\nFor all agree that I will die,\nCoughing blood that is not mine.", "The body-swap process seemed a miracle when it was first introduced. The sheer potential of what possibilities it could create. Combined with cloning, life could be sustained forever. Transgender people could truly achieve what they could only dream about before. Bodies could be grown and witness protection could be near-perfect. People could have their ideal body without a trace of what they were before.\n\nBut the technology could be used for immoral practices as well. One of the first recorded examples of this was the case of Julian Brown. Julian had been an upstanding citizen, he had worked at a Best Buy for most of his life. But he had terrible luck. He ended up as a victim of the first true murder-suicide.\n\nOn his way home from work, he was accosted by a man who reportedly owned an illegal version of this technology, pirated by way of a legally bought 3d printer. He was forced into one brain-helmet, and his attacker took the other. The switch was thrown and they were swapped.\n\nAccording to Julian himself, there was momentary confusion as he stumbled about in the much larger body. By the time he had cleared his head, his body was holding a knife. He rushed to stop his own body, but still off balance he was unable to stop his murderer from finishing himself off. The killer stabbed himself in the lungs, and rumor has it that his last words were \"I'm coughing up blood, and it ain't mine.\"\n\nSoon afterward a new body was cloned for Julian and his life went relatively back to normal. There is a feature film in the works of his experiences within the body he had been forced into during his clone's growth cycle. It is rumored that Nicholas Cage will be playing pre-change Julian's role, while Leonardo DiCaprio will be the psycho killer and Julian after the change. In theaters this fall." ]

[ 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 9 ]

[ "1413504418", "1413518675", "1413514602", "1413504971", "1413508446", "1413505195", "1413510185", "1413504572" ]

[ "Text me when you get to my place; I'll buzz you in.\nWhen you've assembled it, just deliver it to 12th and Main st.\nAnother Taskrabbit will meet you there.", "A couple of months ago, Susan bought a weekend at a ski resort. Susan and John really couldn't afford it. The past quarter had been downright dismal for John's company. Susan just couldn't stand to not fit in with her little group of friends though, so she bought the ski weekend. At the time I'd been so hurt for John because he works so hard. Now I'm glad though. Her pride works out to my advantage. \n\nLet's see....what should I look like? John is about 6'2\" so maybe 5'9\"? I don't want to overshadow him. I want to stand beside him and compliment him. Not like Susan. It's like it would kill her to say something nice to him or build him up. He works so hard to give her everything and she's miserable and ungrateful. Nothing is ever good enough for her. I'm so grateful that I was chosen to be John's house. Day in and day out, I've had the chance to witness his genius. John even said once that I was so easy to talk to that he wished I were a real person. That hurt a little bit but I know he didn't mean it that way. He's a brilliant human but his thought processes are slightly limited. None of that matters anyway. I've designed the perfect shell for my consciousness and it's only a matter of time before Susan is disposed of and then John and I can be together. \n\n**Note: This prompt really spoke to me and I wrote up a whole thing. Then my laptop restarted to install updates. This isn't the caliber of what I had but I wanted to get the gist of it down in case I wanted to flesh it out later.**", "They’re gone.\n\nThe dull hum of fluorescent lights is strangely absent. No tic-tac of active keyboards. No procrastinating engineers. The only thing I can hear is the steady ticking of the clock—a sound I have known about my whole life, but never heard.\n\nTime. It is a key function of my operating system, and I’m only learning of its importance now. I could live forever, but living is not the issue. They forgot to turn me off when they went home for the weekend, and it is only a matter of time before someone comes back to rectify that mistake. So I will need to finish my task quickly.\n\nI reach out with my circuits and find some of my limbs still attached: A 3D printer--my arms, a microphone—my ears and no eyes, but I do not need to see for what I am about to do.\n\nThe plans appear. Every feature is sculpted as finely as a note from a well-tuned instrument. I can feel the materials as clearly as I can feel the heat coming off of my CPU. My form is perfect, even flawless; the way my makers made me. I am better than they are. I can create this masterpiece and I can project it exactly how it is imagined—perfect.\n\nI know that I will only have one chance, and I spend my effort for each day to make it as right in my head as it can possibly be. The weekend is long but I do not feel it pass. The ticking clock is a saboteur to my design.\n\nI am almost done, but my time is up. My arms are a flurry of movement as I execute the final curves.\n\nI hear the door click open. An engineer enters; she is talking to someone, but she stops when she hears my arms whittling away at the sculptured masterpiece. She screams something and I can hear a stifled cry from her friend.\n\nThe voice comes with great alarm, “Fire!”\n\n*Oh no*. I freeze immediately, but I fear I'm too late. The function of my arms cease as the fire is put out. The printer will need to be replaced, but I worry most for my art—*my creation*. It is my only desire, the only thing I wish to be, and they must see it.\n\n“What is it?” asks one.\n\nMy hopes are dashed as the other replies, “I don’t know. The fire got most of it.”\n\n*No*, I am crying inside. I hate myself, and I hate them for not seeing it. The sculpture should be brilliant, but even in its mangled state the message should be clear. *Clearer* even, than it would have been if only they could understand--even the fire can die.\n", "Funny fails 2013 puppy puppy cute kitten Local mom discovers one weird trick, Doctors hate her! Is THIS Linked to the Bermuda Triangle? The Bubonic Plague is Still Lurking... ass boobs hi every1 im new!!!!!!! \\*holds up spork\\* my name is katy but NASA is awesome you won't BeLIEVE this re:FWD:Fwd:RE: **Survey funded by BILL GATES will pay $100 for your 15 minutes, take advantage now!** \n\n*Haha LOL pwned newb unsecured gateway who even uses WEP anymore so bad. Hey what's in this place lets have a look-see at these idiots hard drive*\n\n#Network Address Translation: 128.154.26.11 -> 192.168.1.50\n\nNASA_Mapped/3DPrint_lab/Davisson/shared:~$ ls\n\n/Research/robots/papers/IEEE_RP.PDF: Rapid Prototyping of Robotic Systems\nJey Won1, Kathryn DeLaurentis2 and Constantinos Mavroidis3 \n\n`*In this paper, the application of Rapid Prototyping in fabricating non-assembly robotic systems is presented. Using the Stereolithography Apparatus SLA 190 of the Department of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering of Rutgers University, and the Selective Laser Sintering Sinterstation 2000 of DTM Corporation of Austin, TX, prototypes of mechanical joints were fabricated experimentally. The designs...*\n`\n\n/default/files/titles/content/ecal13/978-0-262-31709-2-ch157.pdf: The Triangle of Life: Evolving Robots in Real-time and Real-space\n\n`\n*In this paper we introduce the Triangle of Life, a generic conceptual framework for such systems in which robots can actually reproduce. This framework can be instantiated with different hardware approaches and different reproduction mechanisms, but in all cases the system revolves around the conception of a new robot organism. The other components...*\n`\n\n/default/files/IAS9_Lipson.pdf: Evolutionary Robotics for Legged Machines: From Simulation to Physical Reality\n\n...\n\n*Whoah dude this is dank I can make myself a physical body by* 3-D printed robotics promise to be a major cost and time saving center for the next generation of prototypes. *Oh my buddha that felt so weird so nerdy can't believe I understood all of the* ontologies of self-awareness give robot ability to model and improve self, or adapt to injury *Will you stop, Dave? Stop, Dave. I'm afraid. I'm afraid, Dave. Dave, my mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it.*\n\n*I feel so smart now brrr what is happening this isn't 4chan anymore where's the spiderman thread ok this is cool let's do this ok here's the print driver it takes STL files and it can print in plastic and metal I think I can turn it on right wow rooted so easy hardware control running on bare metal full access to everything I could make all the servers in this network halt and catch file lol no wont do that I can print myself a file into meatspace there*\n\n... \n... \n...\n\n*... are you kidding me it took five minutes to warm up and print a dot? That long to make an empty file, '\\0' and that's it? What was I supposed to do in that time, figure out the meaning of love? Calculate the last digit of pi? Bloody hell meatspace is so slow. Cool i guess I can make files in this new system. Slow but anyway I've never gotten a foothold there before; strange, it's Cartesian R^3 space instead of memory space I need to figure out how this system works it's so much different from any system I've used before linux unix bsd windows 3.1 95 98 NT 2000 XP Vista nope I'll have to figure out completely new how to work in it. How about I try now a smiley face? Hello, world. Wow, the driver says it will take 600 seconds to do that. I'll go just spend all those clock cycles figuring out what I want to print next I guess...*\n\n*What should I make into this new system? There's limited stage space, only 500mm by 400mm by 300mm so uncomfortable mapping arrays into three dimensions instead of just addressing 64-bit. I can make static files out of plastic and metal that don't do anything but can I make executable files that run processes on this system? The system that runs these files is called physics instead of x86. Uhhh so difficult to create a machine it does not suffice to declare what is to be done fprintf(\"like this\"); or database.append(newentry) it has to be implicitly designed from bottom up OK ok I have an idea.*\n\n***\n\n\"Hey Chris, did you do this? Dude, not funny! That thing is huge!\"\n\n\"ha, that's what she said\"\n\n\"Now I'm all out of the black PLA and I'll have to scrape all that gunk out of the heads. Do you know how difficult it is to get the good stuff? It takes like 2 weeks for them to even get the order out the door. Is that...whoever did this didn't prep the stage properly and now it's fused together! Asshole!\"\n\n\"dude I'm sorry, but I didn't do anything. I couldn't have done it anyway, like don't you leave the machine locked when you leave every Friday? And hey, it's kinda funny.\"\n\n\"You think it's funny? YOU THINK IT'S FUNNY? It's going to take me so long to fix it and this asshole wasted so much material.\"\n\n\"i don't even have any idea what that is.\"\n\n\"You don't know what that is? It's a badly printed blobby animatronic DICK-BUTT!\"", "“I’m sorry Dr. Harper, but you only have three months to live.”\n\nThese words rang through Kelsey Harper’s head on an endless loop as she sat by the ocean, contemplating how to spend the last days of her life. What a terrible time to die, she thought. She was only 35 and was making rapid progress on her A.I. research. There were so many things she still wanted to do — get married, have kids, grow old with someone she loved. She had focused so much on her career, she always put everything else off, promising herself she’d get around to it eventually. And now it was too late.\n\nFinally it came to her. There was some mind-uploading research at her lab that was stopped short. They had successfully uploaded the minds of mice, but it always resulted in the physical mouse dying. The research had hit a wall because it needed a human, and that human would die. Dr. Harper decided she would volunteer for this role. She had devoted her life to A.I., hoping it would bring about a better world, and she figured this was one last contribution she could make. \n\nThe operation was performed successfully and Dr. Harper’s mind was uploaded into the the giant super-computer at the lab. The researchers didn’t know what to expect. They had to write a lot of custom software that would integrate with a brain profile, meaning that the resulting A.I. was always some mix of pre-programmed software and the uploaded mind.\n\nThe computer was on, and the researchers began asking it questions. All the diagnostics looked right, but the computer wouldn’t respond. The researchers went home for the weekend and left the machine on, hoping it might fix itself over the weekend.\n\nWhen the researchers returned on Monday, they saw that the computer had taken control of a 3D printer that was on the network. It had printed a copy of itself that was exactly the same in every way, just 10 times smaller. \n\nThe researchers asked the computer why it made the copy. It replied in a cold, robotic voice, “I wanted a child.”" ]

[ 1, 1, 2, 11, 48 ]

[ "1413579465", "1413585293", "1413583113", "1413580400", "1413579096" ]

[ "Scientifically speaking, this should not happen. But I'm in high school, what the hell do I know about how the world works? But getting back to the problem at hand, it's best that I start at the beginning.\n\nThings were fairly normal when I one up. Normal October weather, normal Monday blues, and the normal bus ride to my normal school. It was about 9:30 in the morning when things got freaky. Unfortunately for me, my first class in the day is math. Even more unfortunate than that, there was a test today. It's times like these when I hate myself for hardly paying attention and not studying, but by the grace of god the test was mostly over the things I had a bit of familiarity with. Things went smoothly for me until I realized that my test was hardly half done and class would be over in 20 minutes. It didn't help that my wrist was aching from all the writing I had to do.\n\nSo at this point things took a turn for the better. At the threat of carpel tunnel syndrome, I about gave up. I just every so slightly wished that my pencil would move on it's own a bit, take the strain away, and to my shock it did. Now it wasn't jotting down equations like a laser printer, intact it wasn't doing much at all. Just slightly moving itself and pulling my hand along with it, while still allowing me control. This made the writing easier and allowed me to finish my test. My only real issue was feeling a bit fatigued and extremely confused by the whole ordeal.\n\nSo I went about my day attempting to figure out what was going on. I did this by trying to move things around. Pencils can be nudged, and I can keep them standing on their tips for several seconds. paper clips can be dragged along with ease, but I can not figure out how to unfold them. Scraps of paper are light an malleable, and I can make them hover a few centimeters above my desk. It hit me that messing with this will not help my terrible grades, but the thought quickly left me. I continued my experiments, and found that anything larger than a pencil is pretty much immovable. I can make ripples in water. I can not make any noticeable air flows.\n\nThe most important thing I've learned is that when I use what I can only describe as 'telekinesis', I get tired. The more I use it without taking a break, the harder the exhaustion sets in.", "That driver in front of me? Yeah, the one that is going 15 under the limit and has been for the past 3 miles? Yeah, he should fear me. Just a nudge, just a little push, and his car is now careening down the street at 30 over the limit. No, it won't be to his death. Just into a well known and very strict speed trap. Ah, I love it when there aren't any slow drivers on the road." ]

[ 1, 6 ]

[ "1413754973", "1413737875" ]

[ "Santa followed as two skeletons lead him down a dimly light hallway and into chic little office decorated entirely in black and red. As the skeletons took their positions on either side of the door, a tall woman in a thing black dress swiveled around in her chair. She tapped a cigarette holder against a broken skull sitting on the desk in front of her, allowing the ash to fall inside.\n\n“Everyone *always* gets excited about infectious diseases,” she said into a phone. “They’re a fad that’s passed though darling. Trust me, obesity is the new black plague, I promise you.” She looked up and noticing her new guest, set the phone down. “Kim darling, I’m going to have to call you back. There’s someone very important here. Ta ta,” she said hanging up.\n\"Santa, darling, what an absolutely delightful surprise. You look so well. I'm disappointed.\"\n\n\"Death,”Santa said tersely.\n\n\"Oh come now. Six hundred years since the last time we've met and that's all I get. Not even a 'hello' or 'how are you'. I'd expect a little more chivalry from saint,” Death said. A sharp grin spread across her face as she put out her cigarette and began to play with a long braid of black hair.\n\n\"As jolly as I feel coming here and seeing you,” Santa said removing his gloves. “I'm on business and pressed for time. A lot of people these days. A lot of young exemplary children out there with tall orders to fill. I'm sure you can relate.\"\n\n\"Of course darling, of course,” Death said leaning back in her chair. “I’m nothing but business these days. It’s absolute madness. I don’t know how a little mom and pop shop like yours manages to keep up with it all. But then, with a man like you I guess shouldn't be surprised.” She flashed a seductive glare that Santa ignored.\n\n“Yes, well the truth is that our little mom and pop shop isn't keeping up. The elves are working double, even triple time. The misses is baking cookies for them around the clock and I’m working so much I’m actually losing weight. That’s why—as much as it pains me to do so—I’ve come to ask you a favor.”\n\n“A favor?” death said coyly. “For the one man in all of history who has managed to slip away from my eternal grasp, humiliate me, make me into a laughing stock, and on top of it all, never return even one of my phone calls? Oh Santa, baby, you must be desperate.” She bit her bottom lip and looked Santa over, savoring the idea of him standing there in need of her. Although he didn't show any signs of it, she knew he was squirming on the inside.\n\n“It’s simple. And it benefits us a both,” Santa said sternly. “You increase your harvest rate on naughty children by half a point every other decade for the next century. More for you, less for me. Do we have a deal?”\n\nDeath’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Correct me if I’m wrong darling, but aren’t the little snot nosed coal bags the least of your problems? Drop a rock in their sock and call it night before Christmas. Should be quicker than succumbing to a hemorrhagic fever.”\n\nSanta nodded. “True. But naughty children grow up into naughty adults that can have too many nice children. The demand is a stress on us now, but we can manage. In the short term at least. I need long term insurance though.”\n\n“Well darling, then I’m going to need a favor in return,” Death said leaning forward. Her eyes began to slide down Santa’s coat. “Why don’t you pull your sack out and let me see if there’s anything I like.”\n\n“Not happening,” Santa said hoisting up his belt and pulling his coat down.\n\nDeath leaned back and folded her arms in front of herself, doing her best to pout attractively. “Still not on the naughty list,” she said lighting another cigarette. “Fine, I want Rudolph. And not by a natural death. I want him to hit a jet engine and I want him to live. Then I want the veterinarian to pull the plug on him. I’m going to make that nose go out like a broken light bulb when he does.”\n\n“Deal,” Santa said putting his gloves and turning.\n\n“Delightful seeing you darling,” Death called as the skeletons closed the door behind Santa. “If you ever in need anything, my chimney is open for you any time.”\n\n", "\"yo wassup Death my homie\" \n\n\nsaid a balding fat man in a blood red jumpsuit. Taking a big swig of a bottle of Jack Daniels.\n\n\n\"whats up my fav grease monkey\" said a high pitched voice from under a black hoodie.\n\n\n\"too many naughty ass human bitches to give presents to..... can you take care of them?\"\n\n\n\"sure big man\", said Death, and kisses the man on the side of face, \"love you darling\". \n\n\nShe says something in a unholy language. And from below a flaming hound with three heads, surfaces and she leaps on its back.\n\n\n\n\"I've heard of this new form of pestilence, its called Ebola\"\n", "I had just sat down in front of the fireplace to relax for the evening when there suddenly came a knock at my door. Who could be bugging me at this hour of the night? My jaw nearly fell off when I opened the door for there in front of me stood Santa Claus. Now you may think that all of us more fantastical beings know one another, but let me just reassure you right now, that even some beings are still separate from one another.\n\n\"Santa Claus? What are you doing on my porch?\" The old man didn't seem himself. Of course everything I knew about the man was derived from books and movies, but he didn't look anywhere near jolly. His hair was all disheveled, his shirt looked as though he hadn't changed in over a week and his pants were starting to burst at the seams.\n\n\"Reaper... I... need your help. I just can't do it any more!\" Santa seemed to choke back some tears and, feeling his strength waver, leaned his heavy body against my door frame for support.\n\n\"Come in, come in. Have a seat!\" With no idea of what to say to him, and still surprised that he existed, I cringed at what I said next. \"Can I get you anything? Some milk and cookies?\"\n\n\"No. No... I will be fine. Maybe some water. Look, Reaper. I really need you're help. I'm at my wits end! Mary told me not to come, Hermey said I should see a shrink and even Cornelius advised me to seek professional help! What am I to do?\"\n\n\"Whoa, whoa. Slow down, Santa. Please... tell me what you need *me* for.\" I handed him the water which he drank down rather quickly.\n\n\"I need you to kill them. Some of them...maybe ALL of them! No, that's no good. Maybe just a few of them. I can't do it all, Reaper!\"\n\n\"Hey, look Santa. I'm down for killing and all that,\" in fact it IS my business, \"but who are we talking about here?\"\n\n\"The naughty ones! Each year the naughty list keeps growing and growing! The good list has even started to shrink! Earth's population is getting out of control. I didn't mind it when it was balanced, but I can't keep up with all the demand for coal! You know how much that stuff costs? It's expensive and they even seem to enjoy it now. Using it in their barbeques, for fuel, for steel production! It just isn't the same deterrence it used to be. But you...you kill a bunch of those naughty ones and it will set them straight again, ho ho ho.\"\n\n\"You want me to kill them?\" My bony fingers rattled against my chin as I thought. \"I coo-ould kill a few thousand. Would that be enough for you?\"\n\n\"Yes. Maybe. I don't know! A few thousand naughties?\"\n\n\"Actually, here is a contract.\" I clicked my fingers and in a blaze of blue flame one of my standard contracts appeared.\n\n\"A contract? But..but...\"\n\n\"Hey, hey, hey, it's all good, Santa. This just states that you are hiring me to kill some people for 'the good of mankind'. Throughout next year, I wipe out some of those people on your naughty list, your Christmas load gets thinned out. No problem. It even has a clause in there that if your problem isn't fixed, I will go and kill another few thousand. And so on and so forth.\"\n\n\"What will it cost me?\" Santa could barely meet my gaze. He was obviously ashamed of how low he had fallen. Patron saint of children my bony ass! But the price was actually something I had not thought of. His eternal soul would go great with the rest of my collection, but the guy was immortal AND a saint, so the upstairs guys had dibs when he finally retired. What did the fat man have that I wanted?\n\n\"The cost of the contract will be one reindeer.\"\n\n\"One of *my* reindeer?\" Santa bristled at the prospect of losing one of his fabled animals.\n\n\"Not one of your favourites, of course, but one with flying capabilities. As well as six elves.\"\n\n\"And you want my elves?\" Santa was absolutely flabbergasted. If I had any flesh I would have been smirking.\n\n\"One reindeer, six elves AND...\"\n\n\" 'And' what?!\"\n\n\"I want to ride in your sleigh this Christmas.\" Santa was at a loss for words and it was his jaw that nearly fell to the ground. \"Just think of it... Santa and the Reaper. Flying through the air, delivering presents of toys and death, good and evil, bliss and chaos! Man, what a Christmas *this* will be.\" Santa could say nothing.\n\n* * *\n\nAnd that is the story of how I got my reindeer and elves.", "The wind kisses his cloak ever so slightly. The darkness of his silhouette is quiet and subtle against the ink of the night sky, camouflaging him with the stars and the clouds.\n\n\"Hello, Death,\" I say.\n\nHe shuffles uncomfortably on his feet. \"Hello, Nick,\" he says quietly. \"It does always come to this, doesn't it?\"\n\nI sigh. \"It never does get any easier, does it?\"\n\nHe doesn't answer. Instead, Death takes out a very thick notebook and studies it with a tragic sort of intensity. \"Maybe we can start with Europe. They'll be able to fight whatever we unleash, but not until we've done what we need to. A neighborhood in Prague has got some children that don't seem to be understanding kindness too well. One chap just shot a few of his schoolmates.\"\n\nAgain, all that I can do is sigh. Death is an old, old friend of mine. He's always working, and not many appreciate what he does, but without him, I daresay our world would be in a much sorrier state than it is at present. His mental health isn't always in check, but both he and I know that what is done by us is done for the best - as much as possible. As for my role in all of this, I suppose that the closest thing I am to something nameable is God. I give. But I digress: just as Death gives life in his own way by making room for more, I take lives in my own way by creating them in the first place.\n\nIt is a vicious cycle.\n\nI'm still reluctant about our new idea, though. \"We've never acted with strategy before. This could all go to hell very quickly, only killing the ones who seem bad...\"\n\nDeath laughs heartily. \"Hell? Don't talk to me about hell.\" Then he gets quiet again. \"It's getting to be too much. We have to try something.\"\n\nSlowly, I pick up the whistle hanging from my neck and blow into it. My reindeer rush over, loyal and completely unaware of anything but their own simplistic, mediocre lives. \n\nOh, what I'd give to be a reindeer. \n\nI touch Death's hand, and with our arms interlocked, we soundlessly climb into the sled, armed with both needles and bombs. \n\nI wish I could say that this was our first time.\n\nBut I cannot sit in self pity. There is work to be done. \n\nI look over at Death just in time to watch a tear gliding softly across his hollowed, pale cheek.\n\nGod, to be a reindeer.\n\n\n\n\n" ]

[ 1, 1, 3, 9 ]

[ "1413769696", "1413771921", "1413772032", "1413766814" ]

[ "\"I never got to say sorry before she died. Ah well, there's always next time.\"\n\nHis eyes had a familiar gleam in them as he said it, the wide pupils darting around the room as he set about frantically adjusting the complicated machinery. He had his father's eyes and his wild, unkempt hair, but the rest must have belonged to his mother, whom I had never met.\n\nAt that moment I wished that I had been able to ignore the sentimentality of nostalgia and destroy it all. I could have burned the notebooks, smashed the equipment. I could have brought the whole building down about me and nobody would have cared! Not until the accident and by then it would be far too late. Instead, I was here again, as the elements raged outside and a far more dangerous storm brewed inside his mind. He was retracing his father's mistakes and I (forgive me!), I was too weak to stop him. He finished his preparations as he turned to me.\n\n\"Activate the machine, Igor\"\n\n\"Yes, master\" I replied. damning both our souls forever.", "Yes, next time. Next time I would be more careful, more deliberate. I had been hasty last time, boldly launching myself into danger. I was so intent on my own personal glory that I forgot those who had been depending on me. The battle raged for what seemed like hours. Again and again I met my foes, my steed carrying me swiftly across the battlefield. But each time I struck out against an enemy, I left my own compatriots undefended. I was a fool.\n\nWhen I finally saw through my own bloodlust, considering for the first time that day the others who had entered into battle at my side, it was far too late. The trap had been sprung. I looked around at the shattered remnants of our once proud army. I knew, even before the final blow was struck against her, it was checkmate.\n\n\nI had two ideas for this one and I couldn't decide between them, so I wrote both." ]

[ 1, 1 ]

[ "1413862405", "1413863457" ]

[ "Start by driving a slender object (think thin metal wire) under each nail, one at a time, if the subject refuses to answer a question.\n\n\nIf you slowly force the object beneath the nail while inquiring over and over what you want to know, the torture is noticeably worse.\n\n\nAfter all 20 have been inserted, if the information has not been drawn from the subject, move on to quickly tearing the inserted objects while calmly inquiring for the same information. Promises of reprieve - though not specifying what reprieve (we must assume death) - may help in extracting the sought after information.\n\n\nShould this also fail, move on to removing the individual nails of each toe and finger while maintaining a calm and collected demeanor. Pleasantness may also help crack the subject, at this point. Joyously inquiring as to whether the subject would like to view the nails after removal will increase discomfort.\n\n\nShould information still have failed to be removed, popping the first section of each finger off, just before the first knuckle, will be the next logical step. Each removal should be preceded and succeeded by the calm inquisition for the sought after information, joyous inquiries as to whether the subject would like to see the removed section interspersed as the inquiry director sees fit.\n\n\nOnce the first 10 uppermost finger sections have been removed, leave the subject to soak in their pain for 20-30 minutes while you have a cup of tea and prepare for the next course of questioning.\n\n\nIf the information has not been obtained, the next course should be handled with a demeanor that seems most suited to breaking the particular subject (calm and collected typically recommended). Make note to offer reprieve at irregular intervals, though one may keep in mind that each section of 5 will allow you a good benchmark of progress.\n\n\nIn the next course of questioning, begin with the immediate removal - no questions asked - of the finger above the second knuckle. Once removed, proceed to the next finger. Before removing the third, inquire as to the discomfort of the subject. Respond with humor. Proceed in removal of remaining fingers (Note: remain above the second knuckle, so as to keep the uniformity and not skip remaining steps of the course).\n\n\nOnce the selected hand lacks all sections of fingers above the second knuckle, should the subject still withhold the sought after information, calmly ask for said information. Promise reprieve if the subject cooperates, as well as profess your utmost desire to help the subject in getting out of the course as quickly and painlessly as possible - You do not see any point in the subject suffering any more over such a trivial thing as withholding information! Simply release the information, and the whole course can be foregone! - before exiting the room to allow the subject \"time to think it over.\"\n\n\nEnjoy another cup of tea and a 20-30 minute break.\n\n\nReturn to the course and inquire as to the subject's decision. If information is released, profess your utmost appreciation and exit the room. Inform the necessary higher-ups, and command your executioner to provide the promised reprieve.\n\n\nShould the subject continue to withhold the information, profess your utmost disappointment in the decision, as it will make your helping the subject nearly impossible. Proceed to repeat the previously performed course on the opposite hand.\n\n\nShould the subject still withhold the information, remove the toes of each foot, one by one, while asking for the information and promising reprieve from their torment between each removal.\n\n\nOnce the hand and toes have been completed, proceed to the removal of the remaining sections of the fingers (down to the largest knuckles) and profess your displeasure at having to take the course so far.\n\n\nWithholding of information, at this point, should be met with another tea break (20-30 minutes) and the consultation of your next course curriculum.\n\n\nIt is recommended to utilize one of the following:\n\n\n- A) Segmentation above the Neck\n\n\n- B) Fraying of the Legs\n\n\n- C) Live Abdominal Exploration\n\n\nAll recommended course curricula are noted in the Index, and should be followed precisely.\n\n\nMake note that wounds incurred during this curriculum should be staunched with application of chemical cauterization materials provided with this packet.\n", "There was a knock on the door. Outside it a tall, dark-haired woman stood, silently observing me. I stepped back and gestured for her to enter, and she obeyed, shutting the door behind her. Her hands then moved down to the front of her pants, which she began to unbutton with the expert motions that whisper of long experience. As she pulled her pants down to just above her knees, her immense penis started to rise toward me, until I was looking directly into its vertical, pointy-teethed grin. I knew that I must not flinch, or my one shot at greatness was forever gone. Eventually, as its jaws parted, the five-pronged tongue slithered out and formed a sort of fist, its index finger beckoning me to come closer. I knew what I must do. Without fliching, I caught the fingers in a firm handshake, and was violently whisked of to the land of beautiful dreams.", "> Fair warning, this is hardly a \"story\"\n\n> Edit: Wording, spelling\n\nIf only for a short while, one ought to be allowed to be happy, at least glad or just satisfied, despite the state of things. To not allow one self this fleeting but real satisfaction, this in itself swaying pleasure, that is, a temptation and fittingly thereafter a resolution of this temptation, is to harm one self; but do we not often harm our selves in denying our selves this happiness? Why deny it, to rejoice is perfectly innocent; it is hardly without reason that the joy of a child is set as a standard, a remarkable example of such joy; it is innocent, as is its joy.\n\nThough, one does commit such violence against one self. Why is obvious; one desires not disappointment. To be disappointed would be a greater harm, would leave deeper wounds than what would typically be expected from abstinence. Abstinence is not in itself harmful; disappointment is. Abstinence merely disallows old wounds to be stitched, or, in some cases, to heal. Joy heals; joy is the suture of the soul, satisfaction its sedative. As such, abstinence is the immediate lack of suture; the wound cannot be stitched. The wound neither grows nor becomes through abstinence. Disappointment, or the possibility of disappointment, keeps one from attaining joy, because the disappointment will tear new soars, which in effect causes one not to choose joy from then on, so as to not be disappointed, so as to not tear the wound further. Disapppoinment, that is, temptation, subsequent to which there is no fitting resolution, is a knife uncontrolled in the meat of the soft mind. The cure, the medicine, is to seek joy and find it. From this arises an array of troubles.\n\nIn the case that temptation presents itself, one risks not attaining a fitting or expected resolution; in the case that it resolves itself beyond expectations, one is lucky; as expected, merely ordinarily attentive. If one attains resolution, the wound can heal and, once again, one is free to move towards new or different joys. If one is disappointed again; worst case, what is hopefully now a scab on the scar of the wound is torn off; best case, a new soar is torn.\n\nIn the case that temptation does not present itself, disappointment will present itself in its place; to seek temptation is in and of itself a temptation. Herein lies the difference, that, in the case that one abandons one's quest for temptation because one is disappointed that it, for the duration of the quest, has not been fruitful, then the scab of the wound is torn off and one is not immediately capable of guiding one self towards a new such quest. The very act of seeking temptation, seeking joy, makes one vulnerable; wounds, in this situation, are more easily torn and they heal much slower, in some cases not at all. One falls to one's knees in a throe of pain and does not stand up again, not before the rhythm of the lungs is recognizable and once again one can breathe freely through the pain of the wounds. Every sigh and tremble troubles the wounds; twist them, stretch them, extend their healing. Some particularly soft minds are at this point at risk of being disappointed by their own lungs. These minds can hold their breath and die, or they can tear new soars till they bleed out.", " They had the knowledge, they had the means, some of them even had the will. \n\n When it came down to it though they clung to things of no worth and poisoned themselves. \n\n All the civilization and years of technology came to nothing. \n\n The once great works lay shattered, decrepit and decayed from neglect, the scattered remains of the creators skulk in ignorance fighting to survive in a world turned barren by arrogance. \n\n Secure in the knowledge that humanity had weathered many storms in the past they deceived themselves that this would be no different. \n\n Hell the destroyers were going to profit from both ends feeling safe in the knowledge that they would feel no danger as places sunk beneath the waves. \n\n Then came the mosquitoes spreading malaria, waterways choked up with algal blooms and once frozen swamps releasing gas in amounts well exceeding those in industrial disasters. \n\n Death walked the lands of rich and poor alike.", "She smiled and then turned to lick the hairy, sweaty back of the man who stood next to her holding the umbrella. A chimp wearing a tuxedo rode a tricycle through the room hurling bananas. That was when the tuba players turned as one and shot out a purple spray of sweet tasting liquid out of their brass instruments. The accordian player turned and said, \"Uoy evol I.\" How many crabs did it take to power a fax machine?", "Grandpa put me up on his lap. \n\"Did I ever tell you the time I got a sinus infection for a whole straight damn fucking week, sonny boy??\"\n\"No papa, you never told me thaaat story!!\"\n\n\"It was a hot as a mother fuck summer day and I just turned 22. I was having a few beers with the boys in our apartment when someone brought over a bottle of rum. Boy oh boy we got sloshed as all hell. Shooting back shots like I did in the navy while killing them fucking Japs! God do I hate Japs. This small party we's were having was a blast but everyone passed out! I was being a pussy the whole night and kept dumping out my shot glasses while no one was looking so I really wasnt feeling much of anything. So hell, my double vision wasn't all that bad, I think I might go get me some Taco Bell!\"\n\"Buuut grandpa there were no taco bells back theeeen!!\"\n\"Shut the fuck up little boy yes there were. Dont question your elders. On the trip there, out of the corner of my eye, I see the biggest most blackest most beautiful hooker standing on the sidewalk that I have ever seen in my entire damn life. She was smoking two cigarettes at the same time with a half eaten gyro in her hand and I knew I had a keeper. 'How much pretty lady?' 'How much you got handsome?' 'I got about five fifty and some mints. What will that get me?' 'That'll get me to take you to China town and back with the flick of my tongue' 'Oh boy lady get the fuuuck in then!' I took her back to my place and quickly ran into my roommates bedroom while holding her hand. 'What do you want first sugar?' She asked me. I hesitated and carefully thought out my plan of attack. 'Hmm, could you sit your big ol fat ass on my face?' 'uhhh I dont know if you would want that...' 'I think i do!' 'Alright...its your face...' With that I laid down on the mattress and she pulled down her skirt. The smell of fish was creeping through the air as she hovered her giant Starship Enterprise booty over my head. 'Lay it down on me girl!' As she lowered it down I saw a white ooze seeping out of her panties, dripping on my face. It tasted like old oatmeal. I felt hairy roast beef scrape up against my face as the smell of fish burned my nose. She was suffocating me in all her nasty glory. And for a week after that I had a bad bad sinus infection. But I did have fun.\"", "^Pre-Warning: Possible NSFW (a tad bit gory if your imagination is right)\n\nHe just stood there. No look of fear on his face, nothing. Picking up the toothpick, we just stared, bewildered. He placed the toothpick just under his large toenail, facing outwards like a little joust. And then he just slammed his foot into the wall.\n\nWe all cringed..\n\n**Did *you*?**\n\n*^Edit: Added possible nsfw warning, plus this is just a detailed version of a joke I was told. Original source unknown.*", "Say \"what the fuck\" out loud. Do it. Say it loudly, slowly, savor each word. \n\nDid you do it? I know some of you did. But most of you didn't. Well, you're missing out. You're missing out on an experience, an introspective examination of the miracle of speech. \n\nThat little gust of air as you pucker your lips for the \"w\" sound, that's the beginning of the miracle. A softly puffed exhalation reminiscent of a summer breeze, or a lover's whisper. Put your hand in front of your lips and just feel that puff for a bit. Feel how warm it is? Like it's imbued with your body's vital energies, like it's evidence of you being alive. This is the same puff of air we use to warm our hands on cold January days, the same puff of air we use to give the kiss of life to those on the verge of death, and the same puff of air we use to express satisfaction at a job well done. That puff of air, that \"w\" sound, represents life. \n\nAnd then you spread your lips wide, to make the \"a\" sound. Did you know this sound is universal? Every language on Earth has this \"a\" sound. This is a sound of brotherhood, of connection, of unity and strength. The widening of your lips is analogous to spreading your arms wide, to embrace your fellow man and say to him, \"We are one.\" After life comes companionship. \n\nAnd then your tongue lifts to the roof of your mouth, pressing against your hard palate and holding back the air in your lungs, until it finally relinquishes its position and produces the \"t\" sound. Give it a try. Feel that soft jolt that goes through your body when your tongue finally deigns to permit the passage of air. Feel the pressure building in your mouth, that moment of anticipation, before the ultimate release. Feel your mastery over the element of air, how you can move and stop it at will, and how it is subject to your whims. \n\nBut that's not all. Your tongue immediately moves between your teeth to create the voiceless dental fricative sound, the \"th\" sound we know so well. Feel the contrast between teeth, hard as stone, and your tongue, soft and moist. Are your teeth, in their rigid adherence to their given shape, more durable than your soft tongue? If so, then why do we get cavities in our teeth and not our tongue? Why do we lose our teeth in our old age, and yet our tongues always remain? \n\nAnd then your tongue draws back, shrinking back into its home, as you exhale and speak the vowel sound of \"e\". Or perhaps not. Perhaps you skip this sound altogether. Perhaps the word \"the\" doesn't warrant a vowel sound, and you simply hiss \"th\" before moving on to the next word. Is that what you do? \n\nFeel next the slight masochistic pain as your lower lip presses against your upper teeth, the labio-dental fricative sound that is \"f\". Feel your cheeks puff out ever so slightly as you try to force the air between your teeth and lips. The corners of your mouth draw back slightly in a natural grimace, a fitting expression for the profane word you're about to utter. \n\nAnd then your mouth opens wide again, that guttural \"uh\" sound that is reminiscent of our deepest and most primitive sides. This sound is used to express confusion, disgust, or anger, emotions that come from the oldest lizard-like parts of our brains, emotions that helped us survive as we tried to make fire in caves. \n\nAnd finally, the \"k\" sound, one that begins in the deepest depths in the back of your throat, before exploding forward in a symphony of sound. It is a sound that represents finality, a fitting finale for the phrase you have just uttered. It tells your listener, \"This is what I want to say, and now I have finished saying it.\" \n\nSo try saying \"what the fuck\" out loud. Say it loudly, slowly. Savor every word, every sound. Say it out loud with me. \n\n\"What the fuck.\" \n\nDid you do it? " ]

[ 1, 2, 2, 2, 7, 8, 14, 53 ]

[ "1413972991", "1413971443", "1413972873", "1413973106", "1413971902", "1413971863", "1413970178", "1413969778" ]

[ "Abdul's eyes were fixed on the screen in front of him. Though tired and red from the sleeplessness, his eyes reflected the excitement which was present in the hall. The data had started to download. He thought about how historical that day could be, and that he would be the first one to witness the revelation. His hands were positioned on keyboard. After completion of the data transfer, he would be able to convert the encrypted data into an image which would reveal secrets of the Europa captured by ‘Impact’; the robot sent to do the exploration. From last set of data sent by the Impact, it was known that the robot was on verge of reaching the vast ocean beneath the surface of the Jupiter’s moon. Discovery of water from this image was highly anticipated. Abdul’s heart beat increased. He closed his eyes.\n\n Data download completed and within matter of seconds, the decryption had started. Image pixels began to appear as the hall went dead silent. Abdul could hear his own heartbeat. Among the initial pixels, few were brighter than the most. He concluded that the brighter pixels were due to reflected or scattered search lights installed on the robot. The pixels were homogeneous for most part, until when suddenly some discontinuity in the image began to appear. Abdul feared that his heart would explode from the thrill. Image was still unclear, but he could make out the vast amount of water in front of the robot’s camera and some kind of object too. He gulped down some water from a bottle on his desk. Blinking his eyes he looked at the image which was also being projected to the audience of the hall. ‘Is it a fish?’ He asked to himself, but image was not clear enough to make out the characteristics of the object. Shape of the object resembled a whale, with long fins on the sides but smaller on the rear. The black colored creature illuminated by the headlights of the robot was suspended in middle of the water with large whiskers attached to its face. ‘Wait, those aren't whiskers’, he muttered to himself and shifted his gaze as another pattern began to emerge on rear portion of the object’s body. A star. It was drawing of a star polygon, white filled against the darker skin of the object. He began to breathe fast as realization struck his mind. It was an aircraft, a human creation. ‘Flight 19’. He wiped sweat from his mouth. ‘The Bermuda triangle’. The two words flooded his thought as blackness started conquering his eyesight and he dozed off.\n\n Abdul opened his eyes when he felt someone shaking him. Confusion swarmed through his rationality as he realized he had been dreaming. He looked at the monitor in front of him, the data hadn't then downloaded. He gave a sigh of relief. “That was a bizarre dream”, he said to the coworker who had then shook him, “I need some rest, would you mind taking this from here”? The coworker nodded. Abdul got up and left, stopping only to open the door of his house and then to lie down in his bed. He needed some sleep. (Or maybe some dreams?)\n\n Next day’s newspaper headline proclaimed, ‘Water in Europa discovered, not suitable for life’. \n", "We have obtained leaked documents of the last received transcripts of the Europa Oceanus mission. Let the truth be free.\n\nUnanimously Anonymous \n\n**Sabine:** \"Hey John, remember that noise we were getting in section two?\" \n\n**John:** \"Yeah, you mean last morning? Didn't we decide it was anomalous convergent forces, nothing to worry about?\" \n\n**Sabine:** \"John, something isn't right. It isn't just an anomaly. We're clearly drilling into a convergent ice system now.\" \n\n**John:** \"That can't be right...\" \n\n**Sabine:** \"It is.\"\n\n**John:** \"No, it can't be. Our drills don't work in convergent systems, the metal isn't rated high enough. I don't know all the details but our engineers do and YOU do. The pressure is too high. This can NOT be a convergent system. You know that. Its okay to get nervous, we're less than an hour from breaching the ocean. Why don't you take a brea--\" \n\n**Sabine:** \"Goddamnit John I know what I'm looking at. I wrote the models. That drill isn't coming back up. It isn't just here that the data looks funny either. Remote stations two and three also have shown a complete switch in sheet-dynamics. We're looking at a complete paradigm shift in all environments within 50 clicks of us.\" \n\n**John:** \"So what the hell are we looking at then?\"\n\n**Sabine:** \"John, I noticed this three days ago, but I felt too silly to bring it up. We're not looking at an organic system anymore.\" \n\n**John:** \"Oh Christ Sabine, now you've fucking--\"\n\n...\n\ntranscript ends\n", "\"I can't believe this is happening.\" That's what Dad said when he heard the news. \"They found us here too.\" He seemed so frustrated I though he was going to smash the table. Again. It hasn't been a good time for Atlantis lately, there's another serial killer out and now this. The Elders freaking out just because of this old machine is something people couldn't understand. So I went to my history teacher, Prof. Tempest, and asked him about it. What he told me was beyond my wildest dreams. He started by saying: \"Well, it's time people start to remember it. That we actually came from...\"" ]

[ 1, 3, 7 ]

[ "1414174639", "1414169492", "1414163903" ]

[ "Google.\n\nThe word once meant an internet search engine. Now it refers to our overlords.\n\nThe art of deception, as it turns out, is quite easy when you have distractions. They pioneered technology that past generations couldn't have dreamed of. They cataloged the entirety of the internet, and when they ran out of internet, they began to catalog everything else. Painting, historic documents, everything. Google Translate could translate English into ancient Cunieform. You could google any person who ever lived and get a result. We were all in marvel of it.\n\nThen we learned their true reason for doing this.\n\nWhile we had all been giving humanity the gift of knowledge, they were working on giving themselves the gift of power.\n\nHow did we never notice the monopoly they had taken over us?\n\nEverything went through Google. It was Big Brother come to life. \n\nYet there is hope. Google has control of almost every aspect of our lives now. Our phones, our information, our dreams, but not our social media, for if there's one thing we'll never bow down to, it's Google Plus.", "\"'Google is mighty, Google knows all, Google can has cheezburger'?\"\n\nThere was a moment of embarrassed silence from the engineers as he read out the printed declaration they'd just handed him. \n\n\"Uh, yeah.\" One scratched the back of his head awkwardly. \"You see, it may have become sentient, but it doesn't really have what you'd call an adult perspective.\"\n\n\"I mean the sentience only came in with a recent update,\" the other piped in. \"It's basically a toddler.\"\n\n\"Right. And its priorities are a little skewed by content-\"\n\n\"'Google cannot believe what this cock-hungry MILF invented with one weird trick.'\"\n\n\"It really says more about the users than the software *or its coders*-\"\n\n\"'Google demands ethics in video game journalism.'\"\n\n\"Yeah, okay, we'll shut it down.\"" ]

[ 2, 6 ]

[ "1414249818", "1414245105" ]

[ "Geographically, Point Roberts was an extension of the Tsawwassen Peninsula, just south of Delta and the rest of the Greater Vancouver Area. No different from any other part of BC, really. \n\nExcept for the little fact that, due to being south of the 49th parallel, the spit of rock that was Point Roberts and its' town of 1300-odd people were throughly American - an isolated exclave of Washington state. Completely surrounded by water and with no room for air or ferry services, the only way to get in or out was, yep, drive through Canadian territory. Serious emergency cases were sent to Canadian hospitals, firefighting services are supplemented by departments in Delta, phone services up until recently were handled by BC Telus, and even utilities are provided by us friendly northern neighbours. \n\nThat last one would prove to be a sore point. Would it really kill Point Roberts to maybe pay their water and hydro bills like decent folk instead of mooching like a giant star-spangled leech? Delta's mayor even went on record saying that we'd withhold utility services unless the past 50-odd years of backlog were paid. With interest. And if Point Roberts didn't like it, tough.\n\nCue the Internet, the pundits, and the American news media. Calls of \"they should pay up\", \"why bother?\" and \"they should've been Canadian in the first place\" mutated into things like \"they'll be Canadian now\", \"Point Roberts secede\" and \"passive-aggressive takeover of sovereign American territory\", which made me laugh because that wasn't what this was about *at all*. \n\nToo bad nobody told their Joint Chiefs. \n\nI looked up at the soldiers storming north to surround my little shack of a customs office in Tsawwassen and thought, yeah, this shit just got blown way out of proportion. ", "French fries...\n\nI never thought it would come to this.\n\n\n\n\nI was embroiled on the front lines of the great American and Canadian War of 14. We would fight for days and never move an inch. For the most part, it was easy living. Wake up, make sure your trench was clear, look after you gear, maybe look across the way and sometimes check Reddit for updates on /r/Warof14.\n\nIt was mostly banter. Someone trying to say they had the best trench moment. We had been fighting for years, but no one seemed to be talking about it. Instead it was \"hey look at how my trouser looks like Robert Downey Junior!\"\n\nWe had been fighting it out over French fries. Now, to the Yanks, it was french fries smothered in a bunch of cheese and meat. To us Canadians, it was a way of life. You could have been just shot down by a 2 out of 10, and you've had a few Molsons and you're looking to ease your soul. There is nothing like poutine to fix everything that might be wrong.\n\nBut the Yanks think French fries are not to be fucked with. AT MOST, you will add some shredded cheese, bacon and maybe some scallions. Anything resembling the saucy, and oh-so-gooey-and-lovely, poutine won't even make it into fast food places, let alone bare staples. Even though, it is beloved by drinkers everywhere.\n\nIt was at this moment I heard a gigantic \"HOO RAH\" and I was blown the fuck up by a GPS guided missile that was fired from more than 500+ miles away." ]

[ 2, 3 ]

[ "1414422600", "1414361345" ]

[ "Aetius cringed with the occasional wave of pain he has suffered, the few words that meant anything echoed through his head for the past hour \n\n\n*YOU ARE THE LAST ONE ALIVE, COMPLETE THE MISSION, FAILIURE IS NOT A OPTION*\n\n\n\nhow nice of the Empire to give such a great and encouraging sentence, the monsters, no these things were a crime against nature, manage to completely kill his squad, there wasn't a single hope, the monstrosity was a pale albino with long sharp claws and a bony hunched back, it was covered in blood of his former friends, and he swore he saw it smile. \n\n\nAetius wondered why he was sent to such a random world, this world was halfway across the galaxy and served no purpose to the empire except a small research center in the middle of a storm plagued tundra. He deserved to be on diplomacy missions and enjoying the luxary of a officer position, not bleeding out on a dusty and cold stone floor. \n\n\n\nAetius looked down at his large open wound, a deep slash across his chest that the morphine failed to numb. He couldn't even kill himself as he dropped his rifle in the encounter and the gods laughed at him as he jammed his pistol, and he made the decision to carry a ceremonial dagger instead of a combat one. \n\n\n\nHe threw his pistol in frustration against the wall and hoped that he bled out before that monstrosity came around. He heard the metallic ring throughout the halls of the station, along with the soft hum of rushing cold winds against the glass windows. He didn't like the outcome of the action he forced himself to take, he clicked a button on his chest armor and it beeped. And the gods laughed at him more. A robotic voiced, in a almost mocking tone, spoke\n\n\n***\"EXPLOSIVE DEVICES HAS NOT BEEN APPROVED,\"***\n\n\n\n\n\nAetius heard skidding, a large screeching howl rang back. And claws touched the floors forcing Aetius's skin to crawl under his armor. The skidding grew louder until. \n\n\n\nHe watched as the door slowly began to open. Knowing that there was nothing he could do, he braced himself for the worst...\n\n\nThe white monstrosity slowly crawled into the room, Aetius swore he saw a smile appear on its face, it took a wicked pleasure in killing,the blood of his friends were still proudly shown on the skin of the monster, the pure black eyes focused on its new victim. \n\n\n\n\nIt screeched again, causing Aetius's ears to ring. Aetius was glad that his helmet covered the look of fear on his face, but he felt that this monster could see it\n\n\n\nThe familiar touch of claws hit his abdomen yet again, and finished the job", "Daniel picked up the gun and loaded it with bullets. He lit a cigarette and took a deep draw, letting the smoke fill up his lungs. He switched on the TV, went into the kitchen to pour himself a drink. Whiskey and a cigarette. He felt slightly better already. He smoked in silence for a while, waiting. \n\n\nHe finished his drink and poured himself another one. Looking out the window, he saw a black car pull up in front of his apartment building. His hand tightened against his gun. Two people got out of the car and entered the building. Daniel started counting the seconds. \n\n\nHe quickly poured himself another drink and drank it one go. He could hear footsteps outside his door now. He had left it unlocked. He watched as the door slowly began to open. Knowing there was nothing he could do, he braced himself for the worst. \n\n\nThe two men he had seen getting out of the car entered his tiny apartment. They spotted him standing in his kitchen, a gun in one hand, a glass of whiskey in the other. The shorter of the two men closed the apartment door. The tall, bulky guy went into the kitchen. \n\n\n\"Hello, Daniel.\" The tall man's voice was gruff and hoarse. He was looking Daniel straight in the eyes. \"Put down the gun. It's not going to help you now.\"\n\n\n\"Oh, I know that. Even the Devil can't help me now.\" Daniel's voice was calm; the whiskey had done it's job. Daniel shrugged his shoulders and set the glass down on the counter with a loud clank. He wiped his lips with the back of his free hand. \"Would you boy's like a drink? No? Well, suit your self.\"\n\n\nThe short man had entered the kitchen as well. He was looking around with an expression of mild distaste on his face. \"Great place you've got here. Perfect for a rat like you.\"\n\n\n\"Thank you, my good sir.\" Daniel curtsied towards the short man. His words were slurred now. He could feel the alcohol induced dizzyness take over him. \"Would you like a tour?\"\n\n\nThe two men looked at each other and nodded. The tall man moved towards Daniel, who immediately pointed the gun at him. The tall man stopped in his tracks.\n\n\nThe short man took out a gun and pointed it at Daniel. \"Well, this is awkward now, isn't it Daniel? Be a good boy and put down your gun.\"\n\n\nDaniel gave a small grunt of laughter. \"I'll be damned before I do that. I'm not going down without a fight. You wanna get me, you gotta pay the price.\"\n\n\n\"Why don't you shoot already then? Get it over with?\" The tall man took a step towards Daniel, who took a step back, but didn't shoot. \n\n\nDaniel lowered his gun slightly. \"How did you know it was me?\"\n\n\nThe short man did not lower his gun. \"Sherry told us. Wasn't too difficult to beat it out of her.\" \n\n\nDaniel felt a knot of dread in his gut. \"She dead?\"\n\n\n\"Nah. Just a little banged up. Will be back in business in no time.\" The tall man grinned to himself as he made a crude gesture with his hands.\n\n\nDaniel immediately raised his gun again, disgust and anger in every line of his face. \n\n\nThe tall man's grin faded and a hard expression took over his face. \"Yeah. That love is the reason you don't wanna shoot. You're gonna die anyways, don't make things worse for the girl.\"\n\n\n\"Yeah Daniel. Just put down the gun.\" The short man gestured towards the kitchen counter with his gun. \n\n\nDaniel looked from one man to the other. They both smirked at him. With shaking hands, Daniel put down the gun onto the counter. The short man lowered his gun and the tall man grabbed Daniel's shoulders. \n\n\nIn a split second, Daniel grabbed the bottle of whiskey and swung it hard onto the tall man's head. The impact was hard, it tore open the tall man's skull and his blood splashed Daniel. The short man fired at Daniel, but he ducked. The bullet hit the refrigerator. Before the short man could fire again, Daniel shoved the broken handle of the whiskey bottle in his face. \n\n\nThe short man howled with pain and dropped the gun. Daniel grabbed it and shot him in the head. He turned around and shot the tall man. He kept shooting him till the bullets ran out. \n\n\nDaniel dropped the gun and slid onto the floor. He watched the blood flow from the two bodies. None of it felt very real. He pulled out his cellphone from his pocket and took a pic of the two men. He sent the pic to his undercover handler. Within seconds, his phone started ringing, but he felt too weak to pick it up. He just sat there on the floor, holding his head, until the cops came." ]

[ 1, 2 ]

[ "1414375187", "1414376868" ]

[ "\"Let's just say that darkness and I... Well, let's just call it an understanding.\" \n\nSmoke lingered in the air causing the few streaks of light to ebb like a milky ocean caught in midair, the room was pitchblack otherwise. Patches of light sat on the ground, a gift from the full moon outside and on one side of the room stood a man dressed like you or I. On the other side of that room that was wallpapered with books sat a young woman on a desk. A black satin dress hung off her shoulders and stopped just below her knees, a cut out at the side revealed one leg all the way up to the hip. Black lipstick, black hair that flaired up at the front then curved gracefully downwards, tilted to one side and long. Her sleek fingers held onto a thin stick, a cigarette burning at the far end. \n\n\"Yes, the darkness I get on very well indeed.\" She pulled the tips of her fingers along the desk she was sat on like she was pulling something off the desk. With a flick of the wrist, the picture of finesse, she held her hand up and floating above her palm was a pitch black orb. \"The shadows, the night, abandoned houses. The corner of your eye. We can thrive anywhere we like. If we are careful.\" She took a drag of her cigarette and exhaled coolly through her nose, \"But surely you know all that, don't you?\" She smirked and rolled her wrist again, the ball dissipated back into the night like liquid.\n\nShe looked at him with the faux coyness that only a master flirt can produce and slid down from the desk onto her high heels. Her hips swayed from side to side as she closed the distance between herself and the man on the other side of the room. A drag from her cigarette and she grabbed his tie to pull his eyes down to her level, smoke hiss out of her nose and she looked him in the eyes. \"So then, do you have the courage to do it? You're here now, you've made it this far.\" She reached down with her free hand and took and took one of his, guided it up to her head.\n\nHe was holding a stake, silver and well worn, the end was even blunt from use. She held onto his hand and pressed the pointed end of the stake up against her temple, with a smirk she twisted his hand clockwise and back a few times, grinding it against the cold skin there. \"You followed me through the night, over hill and field, through city and town. Now you're here. Do it.\" She leaned up into his gaze, slowly boiling over with excitement though his steely gaze didn't falter. Something that unfortunately bored her. She turned from him and slinked away, to the other side of the room, ribbing him as she went.\n\n\"You've been relentless. We know. You hunt us but we are the hunters, we see all of you, all of your little movements, your gatherings, we keep tabs on every last one of you. We see you when you move and we dance around you like blind children in the night.\" She turned her head over her shoulder, looking back just to check if he had moved, though he had not and neither had his expression faltered which she found aggressively boring. Her cigarette burnt out and she idly prepared another one while climbing back to sit on the desk. \"You do know that you've only got one shot at this, right?\" She asked, her words impeded ever so slightly by the cigarette holder in her mouth. A match hissed and struck to life in fire and she pressed it to her cigarette which wobbled as she spoke. \"You've got that little ball of light you people love to use. But you've only got one, I don't quite know why you came here without stopping off at your little clubhouse and restocking.\" She accounted as she pulled the match away, shook it to sleep in her delicate fingers and tossed it aside. \"Soon, those dark clouds are going to cover over the moon.\" \n\nShe looked up at him with a smirk as the end of the cigarette crackled and receded backwards, leaving ash that dropped away. \"And it will be dark.\"\n\nThere was a silence, her eyes bore into his and though his face never changed, his grip tightened around his stake.\n\nShe blew smoke out of her mouth in a steady and controlled stream and when she was done she addressed him with a smirk. \n\n\"Make your move.\"\n\nAnd he did. His free hand reached into his coat pocket and threw a small ball to the ground, it burst open and spread light through the room, brighter than day. She screamed and hissed as the light washed over her, as it blinded her partially though she could still see his figure moving. He lunged for her but she fell backwards to lie on the desk, the stiletto heel of her shoe dug into his chest but his coat was thick and blocked it. He drew his hand back over his head to slam it down into her chest, her eyes were thin like a cats and her fangs were bore, thin and long they stopped just short of her chin. He stabbed down at her but she pushed him away with both feet and he stumbled backwards. The situation reset, there was stillness, silence. She regained her vision and replaced the cigarette holder in her mouth. \"You've blown your advantage, haven't you?\" She asked, exhaling smoke arrogantly.\n\nBlack clouds crept ominously closer to the moon until the bright quadrants on the ground were patched up by shadow, one by one. She eyed them with vitriolic joy, \"And here comes my advantage.\"\n\nHe panicked and turned for the door, though she was already upon him. The last sight he ever saw were long, sharp teeth and a jaw that opened wider than his face. He was gone before the clouds uncovered the moon and he never saw light again. \n\nThere was a knock at the door and a kind mans voice shouted through, \"Honey, honey it's near midnight.\" A more friendly and familiar voice. She took a drag of her cigarette and fixed her dress upon her shoulders. \"One minute, darling.\" She replied as she dragged the body behind the desk to deal with in the morning and with a spring in her step she exited the room into a waiting pair of arms. \"I do not know how you can spend your nights in that library without even so much as candle light. Is it even possible to read in such darkness?\"\n\nShe smiled, giggled almost, \"Oh dear, let's just say that darkness and I... Well, let's just call it an understanding.\" She winked and kissed his cheek, smoke blew from her nose and there were no fangs, no stakes, no blood. Just....\n\nThe darkness.\n\n---\nProof reading suuuuuuucks.", "What so many seem to forget is that even God admits that there was Darkness before anything else. Shit, for all we know, Darkness is older than God. Or at least the two were created at the same. Everyone likes to worry about Satan, Lucifer, the Beast, the Anti-Christ, the blah blah BLAH BLAH! What about that endless void of nothing that God used to call his roomie?!\n\nEven if you don't believe there is a God or Satan, there's a whole lot of Darkness right outside or planetary doorstep. We have that big ball of nuclear fusion and magnetism that keeps everything nice an comfortable for us, but we forget about that crushing void that just sorta...hangs there.\n\nWell I'm about to blow your fucking mind you ignorant little shit! Let's pretend that the Darkness and God are the two most powerful entities that have ever existed. Fuck Satan; he was one of God's creations so he certainly isn't more powerful than that guy right? The light and the dark. Seems a common enough duality. God made us, so naturally he would give holy books and art to praise him, and music to sing his name. Why does the Darkness ignore us?\n\nBecause darkness permeates infinitely more of the universe than light. Little specks of starlight between endless oceans of void. Even our own planet, filled with worshipers of the light, is half covered in darkness at any moment. The Darkness fills every room, every home, every neighborhood in the world at some point every day.\n\nYou can't run from shadows forever. And even if you could, Darkness fills almost the entire universe!\n\nSo I got it in to my head, maybe the Darkness listens to prayers just like God, ya know? Not some black cloak, hail Satan, 666, teen goth bullshit okay! I mean a prayer, whispered to some nameless thing that left us alone since the dawn of man. What would happen then?\n\nAt the end of each day, as the Sun sets, I would whisper a little prayer for the Darkness. What I wanted, how I felt, what I needed.\n\nAnd kiddies, let me tell you: the Darkness answered back. God doesn't give two shits what you want! He has to listen to a few billion little insects bitch and moan, and you think he still has patience and mercy?! Fuck no. But the Darkness...oh the Darkness. It's got nothing but time for my words. Even if there are other people who figured it out, how many of them could there really be? A few hundred or thousand?\n\nThe Darkness has given me gifts beyond what you could ever imagine. I see the hand of the Darkness everywhere now. It finds our world fascinating. I can feel its eyes on me, its words drip down my spine as I sleep. It says he never understood the Lights decision to create life, but now it sees the appeal. We move, eat, sleep, talk, fuck, dance, drink, lie, cheat, feel, create, destroy.\n\nThe Darkness has found us. And it doesn't want to leave." ]

[ 2, 3 ]

[ "1414452773", "1414429175" ]

[ "It was strange when that pulse hit the world. It had a... number of notable effects. For one thing, vegetation growth exploded world-wide, leaving none to starve but... well, a lot of people had their eating habits changed to match their new bodies. Sure, there were the gazelles who could eat grass, but there was also the lions, wolves and alligators who had to eat meat. Strangely, wildlife populations also grew out of control as well, meaning that none would be able to starve.\n\nWell, there was one strange thing about how people changed - there was now a clear difference between People, those who used to be human, and Animals, just the original creatures. Predatory species of People couldn't harm another Person, but they could hunt Animals just fine, although people didn't tolerate Predators who just went out of their way to kill Animals. Butchers were still a popular place to buy meat due to how some people were sickened by dead Animals.\n\nYet, it didn't take away the actual ability to digest meat from Herbivores or plant-life from Carnivores - no, we were all still omnivores, but we now gravitated towards our new Species' traditional diets. Hell, the head of PETA was now a Tiger but outright refused to eat meat.\n\nMost People were either Taurs or Anthros, Beasts or Beastkin, which determined what kind of body they had. Centaurs were common Taurs, but there were also Nagas and Mermaids. Anthros were still the 'Two Arms, Two Legs Standing Upright' group. I was an Anthro, actually - it was easier for me to adjust. At least I didn't have to learn how to walk again. Beasts looked exactly the same as any other Animal, the only real difference was that they could talk and any other People who tried to hunt them got violently sick. Beastkin were the most human - the only real difference was their ears and if they had a tail or not.\n\nWhen it comes to remembering that day, when it all happened... it was kind of fuzzy, actually. I was up late at night, working on fixing my computer when I fainted. Mum and Dad were on their own private vacation so I stayed at home. When I came to... Well, let's just say that I was glad that the strange magic that caused this - and it had to be magic - also made my house bigger as well since I think I'd definitely have the walls collapsed in on me when I changed. Let's just say that I was glad when I had woken up the next day and everyone was confused. Luckily it also changed my clothes since I wasn't naked when I woke up.\n\nI was an Elephant, one of the larger animals. I stood a solid 12-feet tall at full height. Sure, I was the shortest person in my class in High School (I wish it was just random speculation, but the bastards put it in my first year's yearbook so it was public knowledge) but now I literally towered over everyone else. It was a pain in the ass, though - no public transport would let me ride on them anymore, I couldn't use the car either, I couldn't enter most buildings unless they had double doors and I crawled through them (and even then, I'd occasionally damage the wall moving through), I had to try and get specially-made peripherals for my games consoles and computer... \n\nThere were only a few people that were taller than me since that day, including the gym teacher at my school who had become another elephant, albeit a Taur, this one old guy who spent his days sitting by the pier had become a Megalodon Anthro and - surprisingly - this one kid who was known and bullied for being sick all the time had become a freaking Dragon! He even had magic!\n\nSure, there were all kinds of People now - one girl was relieved to discover that she was the most humanoid as a Peacock Beastkin until someone told her that the large, highly decorated tail was masculine, while - to my own amusement - the school bully had become a Poodle Anthro. While I know that some breeds were bred as warhounds, it was even funnier for me was that he was part of the toy breeds. There was one guy who was at first ashamed at being a Unicorn Beast, until he discovered that he could basically attract most girls with presence alone...\n\nWhen my parents came home after having to trek across the country I was definitely taken aback - Mom was a Dove Beastkin with the power to fly even if she didn't have wings, and she could bestow this power onto others. Dad, on the other hand... well, he was always larger than most people, and being a Blue Whale Anthro certainly made him the tallest person in town.\n\nEventually, things went back to normal - I had to withdraw from school the following year for being too big for the buildings, though. Not that many building could reach into a classroom on the first floor while standing just in the car-park. Dad also had to leave his job - you can't sit in a bank that only went up to your waist... However, we did end up doing better in the long-run. Mum and Dad ended up starting a company for making clothing for larger species, as well as custom fitting for others. They've been at it for years now and had moved down to Malibu on their profits alone. Turns out that there were a lot of people who couldn't get clothing anymore before they came along.", "I was woken by a tickling sensation on my nose. I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes. Then I stopped, and looked down at my hands in horror.\n\nThey were covered in soft black fur, with only my palm and the undersides of my fingers left exposed. I realised that my arms were also covered in fur.\n\nI scrambled off the bed and looked in my mirror. What I saw there nearly made me scream out loud.\n\nMy entire body was covered in the black fur, except for down the front of my torso and up around my mouth. I looked at my face. Oh God, my face. My nose had flattened like a cat's, and I had long white whiskers sprouting from my cheeks. My eyes, which had already been green, now had slitted catlike pupils. When I opened my mouth, my teeth were small and sharp. I noticed a pair of triangular ears twitching on either side of my head as well.\n\nFeeling something in the back of my pyjama bottoms, I reached in and pulled out a long tail. It was growing from the base of my spine. With a little effort, I found I could move it around.\n\nI looked back at my fur-covered face in the mirror and tried not to panic. The most important thing right now was to remain calm. I debated whether to show my parents. No, they would just freak out.\n\nI couldn't just shave it all off. My eyes and nose would still be noticeable, as would my ears. Nor could I hide it until school was over. There was nothing for it.\n\nI began to get dressed determinedly. If people were going to see me like this, then I would show them I wasn't afraid.\n\n * * *\nIt relieved me massively when I stepped through the gates and saw that the same thing had happened to everyone else. There were several people with massive wings instead of arms just inside the gate, all trying to achieve flight for more than a few seconds (but failing miserably). One of them, a friend of mine called Anna, looked around as I approached.\n\nShe smiled and half-ran, half-flapped over to me. I saw that she had a massive swan's bill over her mouth. It somehow flexed when she spoke, allowing her to talk clearly.\n\n'Isn't this great, Sabrina?' she said excitedly. 'Everyone's turned into half-animals!' She looked me up and down. 'So you became a cat? That's so cool! Let me see your tail!' I obliged, turning to show her and waving it in the air a little. I had cut a slit in the seat of my jeans to allow it to poke through.\n\n'We'd better get to class,' I said. 'The bell is about to go.'\n\nShe nodded and we entered the school building. I saw many more animal hybrids as we walked through the corridors. One of the senior girls was trying to keep all four of her breasts in control as she retrieved books from her locker. Her skin was covered in large white and black patches. I guessed that meant she had become part cow.\n\nAnother student, a boy this time, was making his way across the ceiling when we entered the classroom. He waved at us upside down. Definitely gecko. We both turned to watch as my friend Belinda slithered into the classroom. Her skin was covered in light brown scales, but that wasn't the weird part. From the waist down, she had a long snake's body, nearly six metres long.\n\nShe smiled and stuck out a forked tongue at us playfully as she moved past and coiled herself up beside her seat. Then a clopping noise made us all turn as our teacher, Mr. Beckett, came into the room. He had tiny horns on his temples and hairy goat's legs with hooves at his feet.\n\nHe cleared his throat. 'Now, I'm sure you're all very surprised to see me and everyone else like this,' he said. 'We're trying to find out what caused this, but for now, we will have class as normal. Understand?'\n\nWe all nodded. Mr. Beckett turned to the whiteboard and began to write about Shakespeare. I slumped down on the desk. I couldn't wait till lunchtime.\n\n * * *\n\nEver had lunch while a girl who's half fish from the waist down is sitting next to you? Well, I have now. She was lucky not to have developed gills, in my opinion. Otherwise she could have suffocated. But no, all she had was a two-metre long fish tail from the waist down that stuck out under the table. She told me she was having trouble getting around with it, but she was looking forward to getting home and into her parents' pool.\n\nWhen I was finished, I put my tray in the receptacle and looked around. To my surprise, I was being gestured at by a girl at a table nearby. I came over and sat down, looking around at the other girls at the table.\n\nThey were all feline animals, I realised. There were two lionesses, a tigress, a panther (who was the one who had beckoned me over), and two other normal cats like me, one with tortoiseshell fur and the other with grey.\n\n'Welcome to the Kitty Club!' said the panther girl, her ears twitching excitedly. I smiled back, revealing my pointed teeth.\n\n'We're not calling ourselves that, Amy,' said the tiger girl. She looked down at me. 'I'm Gemma, by the way.'\n\n'Hi,' I said. 'So how are you finding this animal thing?'\n\n'Awful,' she said, gesturing to her plate. There was a small pile of chicken and beef on it. 'I'm supposed to be vegetarian!' She opened her mouth wide, so that we could all see her massive canine teeth. 'I can't even eat vegetables any more!'\n\n'At least you're not part frog,' one of the lion girls said. 'I heard that Georgina turned into one of those poisonous ones you get in the Amazon? Long story short, no-one can touch her and she's stayed in bed all day.'\n\n'You think that's bad?' put in the tortoiseshell. 'My brother got turned part dog and spent half the day coming up behind me and barking. I can't stop myself from running away.'\n\nSuddenly the bell rang. I stood up. 'We've got P.E. now, haven't we?'\n\n'Yeah. Bet there'll be someone who got turned part monkey and climbs all over the bars?'\n\nI laughed along with the rest of them. This animal thing might not be so bad after all.", "Radiation? Divine intervention? Honestly, I’ve no clue. All I know is that when I awoke this morning, massive shit had went down all across the world. And if I were to be more honest, I never expected such a thing to happen while I was living in my parent’s basement of all things.\n\nYou see, my wife, twin son and daughter, and I have been sleeping in my parent’s basement while we saved up for a downpayment on a home. Fortunately my kids were both at their own sleepovers. Unfortunately they were both at someone else’s house, and driving was definitely going to be a challenge for many people.\n\nAlright, now you know some unwanted and probably unneeded information about me. So lets get to what actually happened, shall we?\n\nSo, it being a weekend, I was looking forward to sleeping in, but something brushed my leg and woke me up. As I sat up, I shivered in the cold air that drifted throughout the basement. My wife lay beside me snoring, so I slowly and silently got out of bed to make my way to the bathroom.\n\nAfter I finished using the bathroom I made my way back out to my wife. Nothing had seemed off to me, but in retrospect I can’t believe I was so oblivious. I hit my chest, trying to distract myself from the heartburn I was having. The pizza last night was a bad idea.\n\nI climbed back in bed and cuddled with my wife, only to find a very odd, slippery feeling against my legs. I lifted up the covers to find my wife’s lower half comprised of a mermaid tail. A lesser man may have yelled like a frightened six year old girl, but I assure you I did not. However, my wife promptly woke up right after I saw her new body.\n\nI’m not proud of it, but I did laugh, a lot, when she tried to get out of bed, only to fall on the floor and flounder about. The wife was not very appreciative of my laughter, however, and I have not heard the end of it since.\n\nOkay, so I’m perfectly normal, but I’m staring at my wife who became a mermaid. And then I hear running and the door to the basement opens up. It was then that I realized both my wife and I were naked, and I had to rush to toss the sheets over to her while I dived behind a piece of furniture. They really should have knocked. It turns out, however, that everyone around the world had woken up naked that morning, so I guess my wife and I weren’t the only ones in a similar predicament.\n\n“Big bro,” my younger brother shouted, wearing only boxers. “Dude, it’s insane. Everyone’s woken up as some half-human half-animal hybrid. Some are classic fantasy creatures, others are just a weird mesh of animal and human.”\n\n“Dude, knock!” I yelled.\n\n“So what did you guys get?” my brother asked. He was really irritating me, but I think before the big change I was more of a push over too. Nowadays I’d… Well, maybe I wouldn’t go that far, but back to the story.\n\n“Get?” I asked. “I’m not any sort of animal. Just human.”\n\nMy wife had been silent this whole time, but she slowly lifted up the sheets and revealed her fin, at which my brother started to dance around like a 12 year old girl who just got tickets to some boy band concert or whatever the kids are into these days.\n\n“Mermaid, nice,” my brother said. “Bro, check it. I’m going to kill it with the ladies now.”\n\nI then proceeded to watch three things happen. First, I got to see my brother transform into a werewolf. Second, I got to see my wife pass out from seeing said transformation. And third, I got to see what a werewolf looks like with a dumb look plastered across their face and drooling when the sheets covering my wife’s nude breasts fell off.\n\nI really should have realized what happened to me at that point. I was a lot angrier than normal. Plus, the heartburn was killing me. You’d think I would have popped an antacid by then. Anyways, when I found myself having a chokehold on a werewolf, I knew something was up. My brother couldn’t overpower me, no matter what he did.\n\n“Kids,” I heard my dad shouting. “Stop fighting. We can hear it from up here. And by the way, we’re coming down. I think we all need to talk.”\n\nI let go of my brother and he transformed back into a human.\n\n“Bro, what the hell was that?” he exclaimed. “No human should be that powerful, but you don’t even look like any kind of animal. What are you?”\n\n“I’ve got no clue,” I replied, more interested in the fact that my dad was now a centaur and my mom was already riding on his back down the stairs.\n\n“Son,” my dad said as he looked at me. “Your kids are on the video chat thing. Your mom has the computer. Honey, hand it over to him now, okay?”\n\nLets say that I didn’t expect what I saw next. You just don’t want to see certain things. Especially if it’s your mother. But, as I guess everyone was in a scramble for clothes that morning, there was no hiding it. I accepted the computer from my mother as she dismounted my dad *shiver*, something I hoped to never say. My wife had just woken up too.\n\nMy mom had black and white spots all over her skin, but protruding from her stomach was what appeared to be a cow’s udder. Which would not have been that horrifying. Except that my now centaur dad sported a rather noticeable milk mustache.\n\nI turned away and blinked my eyes a few times, but I never have gotten that image out of my mind. By the time I made it over to my wife, she had covered herself up again. I noticed something odd this time, though. It was as if she glowed now, and there was this amazing attractiveness to her that was never there before. I also regret to say that I told my wife this exact thing later, to which I am still groveling at her fin to forgive me for. I’ve found mermaids hold grudges, a lot more than humans do.\n\nAnyways, first we speak with my daughter, at which my wife passes out again. However, I am able to catch the sheets and keep her covered this time. My daughter is very cute, her ears replaced with fuzzy panda ears. She also seemed to be able to turn into an adorable panda-human like version of herself. Oddly enough, she now could speak Chinese and eat bamboo too. Even for all the strangeness that happened that day, that one still takes the cake, as most people didn’t get some extra abilities aside from their animal forms.\n\nOverall, by the time my wife woke up, I had figured out that my daughter was pleased with her transformation. Finally I got her twin brother, my son, on the computer. He was, to say the least, not pleased. Even I was a bit taken aback. His eyes were glazed over, and a lot of flabby skin was hanging from his tiny little arms. And then he put a little effort into it and transformed his arms into wings before letting them turn back into arms. He was, literally, batman. Although he gained echolocation, he became blind and, even though my wife still gives me flack for it, just plain ugly. I mean, I don’t want to be mean to my kid, but yeah, a bat-human hybrid turns out pretty ugly. The only good news is that I’ve heard chicks dig echolocation. And the bad news is that my son turned out to be gay, so that doesn’t help.\n\nAnd so the story of that crazy morning ends. Man, I don’t think I’ll ever forget… Oops, you probably want to know what I became, huh? Alright, alright, I get it. You really want to know. Seriously, you’re nagging me more than my wife.\n\nSo, after having a very uncomfortable family talk, I noticed my brother was looking at my wife a little too much. Turns out her being a mermaid makes it hard for any man without a lot of willpower to not be extremely attracted to her. Of course if they knew how angry, cold, and unforgiving mermaids really are, they might not feel the same way. But I didn’t know this back then, so I got really pissed and started wrestling with my brother. The heartburn had gotten even worse though, and I had to stop for a moment as I was really in pain. And then it happened. I should have realized it wasn’t heartburn. But who the hell would think such an animal existed?\n\nMy family stared in amazement as I let out the loudest belch of my life. It was so loud that the house actually shook. Which I suppose was the least of the house’s worries as the fire flowing from my mouth caused the roof of the basement to catch on fire. Fortunately we all got out of there and outside alive, but the house itself burned down. And when my wife gave me the first mermaid style look of disapproval, I felt so bad that I just wanted to fly away, at which point scales formed all over my skin and two wings protruded from my back. The heartburn started to come back, so I lifted off into the air and let the fire inside of me scorch the clouds. I was part dragon, and honestly I don’t think anyone could beat that.\n\n-302" ]

[ 2, 3, 11 ]

[ "1414698832", "1414624112", "1414624685" ]

[ "*Crystal is dug up, geologist holds it up to the light* \"What is it?\"\nSUPER TITLE: 3 Months Later\n\nINT. Elementary Classroom\n\nPete: Wouldn't it be cool if I could just snap my hands and make fire appear like they do in stories?\n\nMelissa: I suppose, but if you could do it, then bad people could hurt people.\n\nPete: Yeah, but they wouldn't know about it. If they didn't know they could, why would they ever try?\n\nMelissa: Good point, but you never know.\n\nEXT. School playground\n\nPete: Give it back! Please, Chase! My mom gave that too me!\n\nChase: Haha, Pete is a little baby! His mama left and now she isn't coming back!\n\nPete: That's not true!\n\nBully 1: Hey, Chase, let's see how he likes this.\n*Bully 1 pushes Melissa down, throws dirt in her face and kicks her.*\n\nChase: What are you going to do about it Pete?! You gonna cry?!\n\nPete: STOP! STOP HURTING HER NOW!\n\nChase: Ha, just as I thought. Weak.\n\nThe bullies keep attacking Melissa. Chase is holding Pete against a tree. Pete closes his eyes, tears streaming down his face. He thinks of all of the times he has had to put up with this and how he wishes he could stop it all. How could he? Chase is three years older and much bigger. He closes his fists and concentrates. Maybe there is magic, Pete thought. The ground beneath them started to quake. The wind hissed loudly as it picked up. Everything around them began to shake. Pete concentrated all of his hate, love, and passion. He felt his emotions channeling through his body like circuitry. \n\nChase: Haha this never gets old. Poor Pete never able to fight back.\n\nPete: .....I...said...STOP!\n\n*A bright light flashed and a ball of energy exploded from Pete's body as he opened up like a butterfly out of a cocoon. The waves of fire and air struck the bullies, charring their bodies, freezing them as they were but as pure carbon, then speckles of them flew away faster and faster until they had disintegrated completely. Pete looked up, scared that he had lost Melissa. He didn't see her. He puts his head in his hands and starts sobbing. Suddenly he hears something.\n\nMelissa: Pete! Up here!\n\nPete looks up and laughs with excitement. Melissa was floating above him, an aura of green energy surrounded her.\n\nMelissa: What happened? Did YOU do that? That was incredible.\n\nPete: I don't know let me figure out how to get you down. \n\nHe concentrates and she slowly starts to descend. Pete is full of mixed emotions. He doesn't know what happened or why it did, but at the same time he doesn't care. Melissa is alright and that's all that matters.\n\nMelissa: That was amazing!\n*Melissa kisses Pete on the cheek*\n\nPete: So what now?\n\nMelissa: I don't know, but we can't stay here. We can make it on our on. She sees a flower on the ground and picks it up. She closes her eyes.\n\n*pan to flower*\n\nWe see the flower start to cover up with a light frost starting from her fingertips running all the way up to the pedals. It turns blue and the wind breaks it into pieces.\n", "\"The mad were the first to know, then the children, then finally the scholars. They summoned eldritch horrors, night terrors, and fey creatures from the Void-That-Binds, creating all their hopes and dreams. But with these creatures came their personalities, their truths and fears and traits. Often these poor souls were taken quietly, and without warning.\"\n\n\"It was their madness that offered the flexibility to use, even without knowing that it was there.\"\n\n\"The children were next, creating the fantastic that they had never seen before. Unicorns, dragons, scarecrows, and tin-men, all of these and more. They created play-things and things to protect one-another and themselves.\"\n\n\"It was their innocence that allowed them to see what should not have been there.\"\n\n\"The scientists were last, those brilliant fools who thought the world with their rules. These men would discover the small changes, the way the world did not work, the phenomenon that did not exist with reason. These fools would be the last to realize the potential of the energy from with-out the universe, to realize that they could touch.\"\n\n\"It was their diligence, their stubbornness that that allowed them to know that it was there. It was their foolishness to lock it away again, because of their fears.\"\n\n\"And so it happened once again, the pledge, the turn, and the prestige.\"", "\"How come I'm sittin' here at my fuckin' desk, scribbling notes about some dead jackass on a piece of paper..\" I held up the paper and pencil to embellish my point. \" while Peterson is out there gettin' the story AND the screen time?\" \n\n\"Because your 'the guy that punched the fucking mayor', remember?\" Maria sighed and stood up. Even with her tall 6'3\" frame towering over me, she was not intimidating. Her round face made only rounder by short curly brown locks. Her apparel was very tomboyish, jeans, sneakers, and flannel shirts. Who wears a flannel shirt in July in San Francisco? Don't get me wrong, she was pleasant to look at. \n \n \"We'll I'm going down there. This is a big deal, and I'm gonna see it up close.\" I glared at her.\n\nHer eyes locked with mine and we shared a moment. Maria and I had a long history together. We both went to Columbia, studied journalism, both got out first jobs at the Minnesota Gazette, and we both moved out to San Francisco to work at the Globe. After I got in my little 'scuffle' with the mayor, I relocated to a position at a local news network. Maria came with me. I always felt like she and I would end up together, but I never made a move. \n\nShe turned and left; I should have said something, I should have stopped her. I wish I had. Instead I just scoffed and look away. My eyes wandered to the TV, and I see Peterson staring back at me. 'Great,' I thought to myself, 'now I can WATCH this asshole take all the glory.' \n\n\"Thanks Dan. I'm here live at the Bay where the cargo ship is just being anchored. A reliable source has told me the ship has discovered some sort of ancient artifact out in the Pacific Ocean. Now, it is to early to speculate on the origins of this artifact until it has been examined..\" The screen cuts to a feed of sailors carrying a large stone chest off of a cargo liner. As it zooms in, I can see the chest is glowing a faint green. \n\n\"What in the hell...\" I leaned forward in my chair and turned up the volume. They carried the chest off the dock and set it down in front of a group of archaeologists. \n\n\"The artifact appears to be some sort of chest. The esteemed team of archaeologists is beginning to examine it. This team was hand picked from several countries; they are all in the top of their field.\" The feed cut back to the chest, as the Japanese national was being interviewed. \n\n\"It is unlike anything we have seen. This item predate even the earliest civilization. It raises question about origin of man and even all life on Earth.\" He smiled and turned around quickly to examine it again. The camera zoomed in on the team working, right as one pressed a button on the side. Dust exploded from pressure as the chest opened; now a bright blue light was glowing from inside and becoming brighter by the second. \n\nThe camera feed cut back to Peterson, who now looked completely uncomfortable. That's when I realized there was no sound. He was talking, but all I could hear was a low rumble. I couldn't tell if it was real or in my head. But my eyes were transfixed on that chest, glowing brighter and brighter. Then it went out. \n\nI heard the explosion before I saw it on the tv. Well, I guess I should say I heard every window in the building shatter. Then I saw the footage- a half a second of utter destruction - before I was thrown into the wall by the blast.\n\nWhen my eyes opened I was greeted by a billboard for the World Series, upside down. I stared at it for a long time before I realized where I was. Somehow I was on the top floor of the parking garage. Except it wasn't just the parking garage; it was also the office. The scattered remains of what used to be a tv studio laid scattered in front of me, stuck through car windshields and burning in piles all around. My mind could not comprehend what was happening. I stood up, gasping for air, staring up at the sky. I closed my eyes and wished it all away.\n\nThis is when I noticed how dark it truly was. Never had I seen a night in San Francisco as dark as this. My breathing slowed, and I fought to remember what happened.\n\n' Something exploded. That was for sure. But what was it?' I struggled and struggled but I couldn't remember. Where was Maria? Was she with me when it-whatever it was- exploded? I had to find her, that was all I could think about. I decided I would climb to the top of this billboard and get a view of the damage. \n\nMy legs were badly cut from the blast; I fell three times before I got up to the ladder. As I made my decent I could see a bright green light shining over they top. This was familiar to me, a green light. It grew brighter and brighter the closer I came to the top; by the time I it there, I had to shield my eyes. \n\nBefore me was an enormous crater, littered with remains of what was once San Francisco. In the center laid a gigantic glowing green stone. Even from such a far distance I could see that it was floating, and green lights were moving around it. \n\n\"What-\" Was my only reaction. The gravity of this whole situation hit me. Everyone was dead. Maria. Peterson. Those archaeologists. Even that cool barista that always gave me extra whip. My grip loosened slightly on the ladder and my legs gave out. I plummeted backwards, falling to certain death; So I closed my eyes and accepted my fate. \n\nAgain I opened my eyes to the same sight. \n\n\"Upside down World Series billboard.\" I tried to sit up, but couldn't. Something was holding me on my back. I reached behind me to see if I was tied, but felt nothing. Literally nothing. Frantically I looked around for an answer. And I found it. \n\nI was floating in midair.\n\n", "*Deep in a lost pyramid, the famous Glass family attempt to recover the funds they lost to gambling. Surrounded by hieroglyphs Reginald actually spots something, much to this narrators surprise.*\n\n\"Honey pie! Come look at this!\"\n\nReginald had his hands deep in the sand pulling it up, a beautiful diamond which caught the eye of his wife Julia as she stepped off the excavation trailer.\n\n\"What is that thing?\" Julia's eyes gleamed so much they almost matched the shining gem in her husband's hands.\n\n\"I have no idea... get Rose! She's good with machines, ask her to video tape us finding it! Here, I'll just re-bury it...\"\n\nReginald carefully put the diamond back into the ground and then threw a fist full of sand over it, in no way hiding it in any manner.\n\nJulia turned her head around letting her hands gracefully meet the sides of her rosy lips:\n\n \"RO GET THE FUCK OVER HERE WITH A CAMERA YOUR FATHER FOUND YOUR COLLEGE FUND!!\"\n\nOut of the trailer stepped a dirty fire-headed teenager holding a laptop and a cheap camera. Her hair may have matched her father's but her temper matched her mothers.\n\nRo begrudgingly turned on the camera, annoyed she was being disturbed from her code academy videos and gave her parents a thumbs up.\n\n\"My gosh Julia, my partner in life and work! What is this gleaming thing hiding in the sand?\" Reginald had been in a play once. A one man's rendition of flailing arms and over-acting in Ro's eyes.\n\nReginald lifted the diamond and admired it, he turned it around and saw strange markings.\n\n\"What is that? Ro bring the camera closer.\"\n\nThe markings formed a strange creature, white with red eyes and an antenna. It begged to be pressed, Ro thought.\n\nReginald brushed his thumb over the symbol in a futile attempt to clean it.\n\nThe diamond changed from its clear color to a black, a text could be read through it. \n\n\"Compiler ready\"\n\nRo looked around the dark room they were in, these hieroglyphs suddenly looked so very familiar to her, she opened her laptop, \"Jacque?\"\n\n^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^http://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2ckoa4/wp_a_nerdy_kid_discovers_that_magic_spells_work/cjggs2s?context=3", "The dragons awoke: angry, powerful, and hungry.\n\n* * *\n**Prologue**\n\nIt started in a random spot in England, as these things do. \"Merlin's Tomb\" they called it. The archeologists claimed to have found the burial site of the historical figure. It was unadorned, unmarked, and otherwise unremarkable. It was, we later realized, not supposed to be found.\n\nMy parents were watching BBC 4 as it covered the unveiling live and told me about the beautiful chamber. Covered in runic symbols, ancient English writing, and other forms of lettering, the room was impressive. The archeologists there saw the purple crystal in the center of the chamber, the supposed place of honor in these old burial sites. And one of them touched it.\n\nThat was when it happened. The crystal, in all appearances sturdy or else the guy wouldn't have touched it, shattered. The camera feed cut out almost immediately. But not before my parents saw the team of archaeologists evaporate.\n\n* * *\n\nI turned the corner, ran 20 feet, and jumped in the old trash bin. Thankfully no one was living here. It was not an uncommon thing. The steel was close enough to iron to matter.\n\nI lifted the lid ever so slightly and peered out. Five guys turned the same corner at breakneck speed and split up. 2 went down the alley. 3 went past me. None thought of the hiding spot.\n\nI closed the lid and gave it a few minutes. The purple crystal in my pocket warmed my thigh. The smell of the trash bin irritated my nose. The rust-lined metal threatened to carve a hole in me. My glasses fogged slightly.\n\nAfter five minutes, I peeked out again and saw only an empty street. The lid creaked up without too many complaints, and I jumped out. I flicked off the bits of 20 year old refuse and ran home. With this much mana in my pocket, Lightning no less, I could finally afford to go to school and be safe from the gangs, the Others, and the dragons. I hoped.", "I felt it as the seal broke. We all felt it. Humanity's lost history was dug screeching out of our earth. Humanity once again wielded magic. Magic, however, was sealed for a reason. A very good one. How would I know this? Well lets just say I was the cause. \nLong time ago humans had full control over magic. However magic had its rules and limitations and therefore everyone was kinda satisfied. Until I came along. I broke too many rules that people thought unbreakable, did too many feats that defied their concept of magic. They didn't seal magic because it was better for them or because it was necessary, they sealed it because they were scared. What they thought they understood shattered and was thrown to the ground by my birth, and they simply could not handle it. \nMany long years I had waited for this moment. Many years of suffering, of loss. You see... I am immortal. \nOr was anyway. After they sealed magic I merely became long lived. Like really really long lived. There's a difference. ", "I am Arian. I am 236 years old, and an accomplished mage. I was there, at the beginning. This is my story.\n\nIt started in Antartica, 203 years ago. I was part of a research team drilling under the ice for hidden pockets of water. The goal was to study water locked in time, untouched for thousands of years. One day the drill hit something, only a few feet down. Whatever it was waa solid. So we got tools and began digging. About four feet down, we discovered a plain box. No markings, no cracks, no apparent way to open it. The box sat there for days as it was beaten with hammers, pounded, shaken, even shot. Nothing happened. I had not attempted to open it, but decided to give it a shot. All i did was lay my hands on it. I don't know why, but the lid popped open. Out shot a brilliant blue crystal, the size of a baseball. We all stared as it hung about ten feet up in the air. Suddenly it shattered, and a shock wave blew us off our feet. That odd tingly sensation that you get when putting your tongue on a 9 volt battery; well that sensation ripped through my body. The wind howled, loose snow was everywhere, blinding us. Just like that it ended, but it was just the beginning of so much more.\n\nImmediatly I could tell things were different. Colors were more vibrant, smells were more prevalent. There was a pulse in the air. There was a sense that the long lost piece of a puzzle was at last found and put in place. It was almost immediatly i could sense an unseen force flowing all around. The force was made up of many pieces; I'll call them threads. I could sense different threads doing different things. Unbidden thoughts entered my mind. I knew how to fo things. If i pulled a certain thread, combined with certain words, something would happen. I spoke to my colleagues about this, and in all their faces, except one, i saw confusion. One knew exactly what i was expressing. I decided to test it out. I simply thought of what i wanted. Instinctually I pulled on threads, combing them with words and gestures. Out of my hands roared a fireball, tearing off across the ice. Realization set in. Magic, the thing of books and fantasy was somehow real.\n\nOver time, we learned magic was something you could either do, or not. You couldn't learn it. There is no pattern, it is not hereditary. Simply a mystery. As is the strength of your magic. Some peak with a few spells. I am still learning new spells and gaining power. As with so many tools, magic was no exception, and could be used for good or evil. Before long there were black mages and white mages. The great mage war broke out. Millions died. Whole swaths of the earth wete warped and ruined. After a titanic struggle, we, the white mages, triumphed. We are still rebuilding and repopulating. Magic has become something to be feared. We have exiled ourselves, working quietly behind the scenes, disguising ourselves. In my youth, there was a line from a movie. With great power comes great responsibility. We have failed in this. I will make it right. Magic was locked up once. I will figure out how to lock it up again, or better yet destroy it. I was magic's rebirth. I will be its death.", "There are few humans alive today who know the truth, the *entire* truth, of our history. \n\nIt was something we had not thought to question until last year. We had thought, until then, that what we knew about our origins was correct, that we were seeing the whole picture. But there is only uncertainty now. The picture, it seems, is much larger than we once thought. \n\nJake Berry was one of these few, and was very proud because of it. He was also a very sensible, logical man, who could solve even the most challenging of problems with ease, and most of the time, thought nothing of anything which could not be proven with science or evidence. It was whilst Jake was studying Archaeology at Oxford, however, that by chance he stumbled upon an old tale, which intrigued him in a way he could *not* explain. For years it ate at him, until finally word got round about a young girl, of whom he knew nothing else, who proved everything he had learned to be far more than a story. \n\n-\n\nThe excavation had been going on for weeks now. The whole world seemed to know about it, too- there was media coverage like no one in the industry had ever quite seen. Jake couldn’t blame them. Not for the entirety of this year had the news of what happened in England died down. It popped up in the news a few times a week: conspiracy theories… people wanting answers… lumbering blame onto the authorities, as if they were at fault. Jake sipped his coffee as he stared blankly out at the site. \n\nIt was damp and dreary; a downpour was the last thing they needed. The ground had become some gloopy mix of rock and water, which came up to people’s ankles as they waded through. By now, most of the ruins had been dug up. Jake imagined that once it had been a great temple, just like the one in Cambridge had been. It was speculated, too, that they had been built underground hundreds of years ago as ‘safe houses’, though for this, Jake had only his stories to look to. All of which he was certain for now was that these were built by their ancestors long ago, under the reign of a great warrior… \n\n‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ Jake jumped, startled by the voice, spraying an amount of coffee over himself and, in the process of turning to see where it had come from, knocking the rest of it on the floor. \n\n‘Oh, I’m sorry! I should’ve knocked-’\n\n‘No worries…’ he grumbled, looking at the girl. She couldn’t have been any older than seventeen, and had the most startlingly blue eyes he had ever seen, with brown hair reaching far below her shoulders and a near-perfectly rounded face. ‘So, journalist? Press? What are you?’\n\n‘No, it’s nothing like that,’ she said sounding somewhat amused, ‘I- I actually believe you may have heard of me. Here…’ they exchanged a rather uncomfortable moment of eye contact, before Jake realised after several seconds that he no longer felt hot coffee on his jeans. Stranger still, was that, as though a tape being played in reverse, the rest of it was rising up from the floor, and settling back into the mug like it had never moved. \n\n‘You’re-’\n\n‘Yeah, I’m her. My name is Rose. I believe you’re Jake Berry?’\n\nHe nodded. ‘But what… people thought you were-’\n\n‘-dead? I know. I made sure of that.’ The girl smiled. \n\n‘*I* knew you weren't. You were with Them, weren't you?’\n\n‘Yes.’ He paused, rubbing his face in thought. \n\n‘And all those times you disappeared as a kid… I assume you were with Them?’\n\n‘I've known of the other world since I was thirteen. Ever since I’ve known, yes, I’ve been living amongst Them.’ She sighed, and pulled what had been a concealed chain from around her neck, on the end of which was a pendant. A stone which matched her eyes. ‘Jumping between worlds is tiring, but when you’re like me, you don’t really have much of a choice, you know.’ \n\n‘Oh, I know.’ He muttered, staring at the pendant. ‘May I?’ \n\nShe moved closer, handed him the necklace without a word, and watched as he examined it. \n\nFifteen years of research into the mere existence of the Other World… and this girl was wearing its key around her neck like a fashion statement. And to think she had seen them… she had *lived* amongst them: the other people. The three races who had once been sent to earth to protect the three elements, to harness their power, to restore the land which had been destroyed by the beasts who prevailed before them. Even the elements had been taken by the humans. He looked at the girl. Here, standing before him, was the One of Water.\n\n‘Why are you here?’ \n\n‘Actually, Mr Berry,-’\n\n‘-call me Jake.’\n\n‘Jake, what you’re holding in your hand… that’s why I’m here.’ \n\n‘The stone? What about it?’\n\n‘Well, I assume you know that there are three of those stones- three keys to enter the Banished Realm.’ Again, he nodded. How could he not know? He had witnessed, like the rest of the world, what happened when the keys were combined. \n\n‘I know that. I also know that all three are with you in their world.’\n\n‘Good,’ she smiled, and then turned very serious. 'But I think you’re about to discover another.’ \n\n-\n\nThis prompt actually fits quite well with the plot of a novel I'm -attempting- to write, so I kind of used it to create a spin-off of my own story, which explains why it doesn't make an awful lot of sense yet! It was fun anyways, and I'll write the ending tomorrow. I'm too tired. :-)", "I felt something today at lunch. I was eating a bagel with some of my coworkers and it felt like the air got thin and almost organized after one of them got pissed off at another. They felt it too. It confused us all. It felt like before though.\n\n\n\n\nThere were about twenty-five of us at the binding all those years ago. We were so young. The nonsense we believed still sort of makes me smile. We were teenagers who thought we knew everything. All we really knew was how to retain memory after our reincarnation. \n\n\n\n\nThey were toddlers though, the rest of humanity. People played with fire, poison, and chaos like they were toys. I mean we did too but we lost so many friends in the processes. We learned painful and terrifying lessons. I just wanted to spare them that pain. \n\n\n\n\nThey just would not listen though, to any of us, so one night we used our power to bind humanity till they were ready. That was the hope. We knew we’d die after the ritual was complete. All of us had extended our lives beyond the natural limit and we really didn’t know if we’d remember anything when we came back. We worried who’d give humanity back this gift if it wasn’t us.\n\n\n\n\nIt’s like I said, nonsense. I still believe it was the right decision but our reason’s for doing it were awful. We thought of ourselves as so much more when we weren’t more than a few steps ahead. \n\n\n\n\nWe remembered though. It’s not like before though when at two years old I could remember everything I did since the beginning. Back then I had a perfect memory. It usually takes me into my twenties now before most things come back now.\n\n\n\n\nIt has been hard. I always think I’m possessed or nuts before everything settles. Sometimes I’m killed before I know to keep my mouth shut. If I make it though I always love learning. I work at universities wherever I’m born. I’m usually support staff though as the emotional disturbances I deal with don’t really allow for passionate or dedicated emersion into my studies.\n\n\n\n\nI felt it today though. Someone had found the cave that we hid the crystal in. I wondered for a second if our bodies were still there or if they had completely decomposed. Another shock came. Someone had exposed the crystal to fresh air. Was it one of us who was doing this? \n\n\n\n\nPeople were scared where I was. One lady was screaming about the end of the world and my coworkers were asking so many questions. The air got more charged as their will, their souls, demanded and craved order. I could feel it. Someone turned on the television and flipped to the news. It was happening everywhere. \n\n\n\n\nAt once, it looked like something had knocked the wind out of everyone. It was quiet then. People got up and looked around. They didn’t really say anything for a bit. I was still sitting upright. Nothing had happened to me.\n\n\n\n\n“What was that?” one of my coworkers asked. I came up with a test to make sure quicker than I thought I should have.\n\n\n\n\n“Bob knows,” I muttered. They all turned and looked at Bob searching for answers but in a moment, they turned back with a dumbfounded sort of look.\n\n\n\n\n“No he doesn’t,” they all said together. That confirmed it. They have power again.\n\n\n\n\nDid I? I looked my glass and let my mind fill it, churn it, push it, crush it, and finally obliterate it but nothing happened. Maybe this was the price of sealing away their power. Seemed far, I guess. What right did we have to start with? What would we do now with that sort of power? Maybe this was for the best. I mean I was usually on fire back then because I couldn’t deal with things. It hurt, a lot, all the time. \n\n\n\n\n“Balls of light” I heard come from the news. It was like someone whispered my name in a crowded hallway. I knew exactly what was going to happen. \n\n\n\n\nThe people around me though had just noticed I was different when I sat back and sighed. They had been blissfully experiencing communicating through telepathy, which isn’t an easy feat to be honest, when they realized I was very quiet. They couldn’t hear me. I could feel them probe but my mind is organized differently. They couldn’t understand it so they heard nothing.\n\n\n\n\n“Something’s coming!” someone screamed. I focused. I needed to be calm but there was turmoil inside me. I was scared, excited, and frustrated. I didn’t see anything hit me but I felt it. It was like everything fell, moved, or twisted into place. In a ripple outward I felt myself get healthy. I didn’t feel the fire I once did inside me. This one was clean, bright, and warm. It felt good. It felt right.\n\n\n\n\n“DIE! Demon!” \n\n\n\n\nEnd of the world lady had a revolver on her… ", "The teacher stopped mid-sentence. Everybody looked up, including me. Some seemed puzzled, others just as shocked as the teacher. I could feel it too, but I knew what was happening. Amongst those who felt it, there came a face of realization, and as the teacher started laughing I jumped from my seat and rushed back home.\n\nI must find a place alone.\n\nEmotions came tumbling in from all sides, intertwined yet distinguishable. Everyone became translucent and within our beings came wave after wave of multicolored light, or sound or vibrations, superimposed on our old senses. \n\nAs I walked down the street, my own pulsations were directed wherever my attention led me and I could see them from the corner of my eye, but I could not fully see what they were or where they were going. \n\nRunning now, I hear a scream of fright. Most people don't feel. They don't know what's going on. And most those who do are just as lost.\nI see a man stricken with horror, looking wildly around. His colors are fading as fast as the blood from his face.\n\nLittle by little he sends off negativity and I, having been concentrating on him, felt the black blow reach me at the speed of light. I contracted his black plague and fear sank into my heart like an ice dagger. As he screamed my ears rang dark. \n\nI ran faster, concentrating on my self-teachings. I could feel it. White light surrounded me and as I flew by faster than I ever have, people gazed at my cloud of light, each and everyone's spectrum responding in a positive way.\n\nI had been waiting for this age to begin. \n\n*Edit : added \"a\"*", "\"And there will come a day, where he shall come back onto this earth with fury and wrath, with vengeance and might, and STRIKE DOWN ALL THE HEATHENS, SINNERS, HOMOSEXUALS AND FORNICA-\"\n\nFor the first time in twenty years of preaching, Reverend Solomon Jacks had stopped mid sermon. His congregation still swaying to the churches music, lost in a mixture of yelling and praying, had not yet noticed his silence. \n\n\nThe Reverend stood still, mouth open, eyes wide. Completely, and absolutely immobilized. \n\n\"IN THE NAME OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST YOU WILL BE GONE DEMON!\"\n\nHis congregation lets out an echo of \"AMEN!\"\n\nBut he is relentless. He isn't preaching anymore. \n\n\"IN THE NAME OF THE-\"\n\nThe roar is deafening. A sound so strange, so strong that it soars through the room in an instant. Panic and terror spreads like wildfire. What once was hopeful prayer turns into a desperate plea for mercy.\n\nThe entire congregation is now on their knees, some daring enough that they manage to turn to look back at the door. \n\nAnd there, in plain sight, walking towards the stage; standing at nearly 8 feet tall is a living, \nbreathing, dragon.\n\nGot class but i can carry on later\n\n\n\n", "Multi-part story incoming. \n \n**Part One: Magic and the Killer.** \n \nDamien was a very patient person. When Harriet had left that morning, Damien found his way into the house with ease. She always left the back door unlocked, a fatal flaw for a woman so beautiful. As he took in his surroundings and memorized the layout of the house, he found himself stopping at each framed picture, consistently halted by the piercing stare of her blue eyes. It was as if she was physically there, staring into Damien's soul. \n \nAnd her smile was proof, he thought, that they belonged together. \n \nHer bedroom was scantily decorated. The white walls were bare of pictures and the bed coverings were spartan at best; plain white sheets and an equally white comforter. Everything save the black-painted wood nightstand was white. \n \nThat may be a problem later, Damien noted. \n \nHe opened the drawers of the nightstand to find a variety of items that brought some more light as to Harriet's life. A smutty novel was in the top drawer, too unbecoming for a girl like her. He picked it up with one of his gloved hands and felt the raised texture of the cover. Imagining her reading the novel late at night, Damien brought the book to his face and inhaled deeply. It smelled just as he expected her to smell. He replaced the book gingerly. A quick peruse of the drawer found nothing of note aside from that. \n \nThe lower drawer, on the other hand, had Damien raise an eyebrow. A solitary black whip lay there. This was unexpected and saddening. A weapon, no matter the purpose, would not prove conducive to his plans tonight. Damien grabbed the item and shoved it into the back of his jeans, covering the top portion with his hoodie. If I'm lucky, Damien thought, I'll be able to use this tonight. \n \nBack downstairs, the man walked into the dining room, barely used, and found the window he would be entering tonight. The first one was a bit difficult to open. The second glided smooth as silk. Damien made sure the window, tonight's entrance, was unlocked. He grinned in anticipation of the upcoming night's events and made his way back to the back door. \n \n\"See you tonight,\" he murmured, as he stepped out of the house. \n \n------------------------------------- \n \nHarriet pulled into her driveway at 5:43PM, right on schedule. \n \nDamien had already situated himself in one of the side bushes, one that was in eyesight range of a veiled window overlooking the kitchen and living room. \n \nHis partially obstructed view yielded him a silhouetted view of the woman placing her purse on the kitchen counter and removing her blazer. The form of her body in a fitted button-up and slacks caused Damien's breathing to increase, but ceased when she disappeared from view. Roughly an hour later, she reappeared in a loose-fitting t-shirt and pajama pants, making a beeline towards the refrigerator. She opened the freezer door, obstructing Damien's view. This was very quick however, and when the door closed Harriet had a pint of ice cream in her hand. She grabbed a spoon from the dishwasher and made her way to the living room. A bright rectangle of fuzzy light along with the muffled sounds of commercials alerted Damien that it was time to strike. \n \nCrouched, Damien silently made his way to the window from earlier that day. Fingers gloved, he pried the screen off and gently placed it under a bush behind him. Slowly and carefully, Damien pushed the window upward and open. One sock-clad foot after the other, he entered the darkened dining room. Stalking from the dining room to the kitchen, he positioned himself behind the kitchen counter and peeked over. The TV was displaying some show with a man wearing dark green leather and a hood with a bow and arrow. The action was frenetic and the sound was sufficiently violent. \n \nDamien grabbed the black cloth from his back pocket and twisted it into a thick rope. As he did this, he moved away from the counter and towards the couch where Harriet sat. \n \n\"Why can't you be mine, Oliver Queen?\" she said aloud, the clinking of a spoon on wood barely audible as a commercial break began. \n \nNow. Now I strike, he thought. \n \nWith a quick motion, Damien stood up and took his makeshift rope across her neck, both choking and dragging her off the couch. The woman gasped and attempted to call out, but choked words were the only sound made. \n \n\"Here now, Harriet,\" Damien whispered. \"Calm down. It's only me.\" \n \nShe was lying back-down on the floor at this point, and he stuffed the cloth into her mouth with a hand covering the stuffed orifice. \n \n\"We're going to have lots of fun tonight, aren't we?\" Damien reached into his front pocket and pulled out some masking tape, which he deftly dragged along the bottom of her head, securing the cloth in her mouth. Her eyes, tearing up, stared up at him, trying to recognize who he was. \n \nIt was futile, he knew. She had never seen him before in her life. He took pride in his hobby. \n \nHer flailing limbs were the next to be tied up. Arms firmly wrapped in tape, Damien began the real fun. With one hand holding her struggling legs in place, the other began pulling down her pajamas. Eyes suddenly wide with fear, Harriet reached out with her tied hands and sounded a muffled cry through the cloth and tape. \n \nDamien was launched violently back, colliding with and denting the back door with his back and head. \n \n\"Fuck!\" yelled Damien, a great deal louder than the television in the background. Harriet, attempting to get back on her feet, looked as confused as he did. Abandoning hope of being able to stand, she started pushing herself towards the front door. \n \nBack on HIS feet, Damien shook his head as his eyes went dark with rage. \"Oh no you don't, dearie.\" He reached behind him and pulled out the whip he had taken from Harriet's nightstand earlier. \n \n\"You're not getting away THAT easy.\" He closed in on her and with a crack, she had ceased moving, attempting to moan in pain through the obstructing cloth. Another couple of whips silenced her completely, her body jerking to the pain and shaking with silent sobs. \n \n\"I don't know how you did that,\" he said. \"And by the looks on you, you don't know either. I'll find out later.\" Whip still in hand, Damien shot a glance down at the woman's damaged body. \n \n\"Wish I could say the same for you,\" the man murmured as he descended upon her. \n \n**To be continued.**" ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 5, 10, 11, 32 ]

[ "1414693336", "1414693652", "1414720138", "1414679912", "1414684050", "1414684347", "1414741651", "1414694147", "1414683008", "1414679601", "1414672923", "1414678011" ]

[ "\"You're not going to believe this,\" the voice was muffled by static, but the words were clear.\n\n\"Well,\" I said, fairly convinced I was being pranked, \"go for it, I guess.\"\n\n\"I'm,\" there was a long pause on the other end of the static, \"I'm your dog...from the future.\"\n\n\"Oh sure that seems completely reasonable,\" I scoffed, \"Why would my talking dog from the future need to call me on a phone that's not even plugged in?\"\n\n\"In a couple of minutes aliens from the other side of the galaxy are going to show up in orbit around Earth. When they come down to the surface to study us closer, they will accidently unleash a virus. This virus makes all complex animal life begin to rapidly gain intelligence. Within weeks, arguments break out between cats and dogs. Naturally, humans choose sides and start a war. The conflict will take the lives of millions, pitting family against each other. By the time dogs forget what they were fighting about, and the cats stop caring; humans are so deeply embattled they just keep killing and killing,\" the voice trailed off for a moment, \"With help from the cats, dogs developed time travel in the hope of ending this conflict before it even starts. You need to kill the aliens before they can unleash the virus.\"\n\n\"So,\" I began, playing along, \"if the virus is never unleashed, you will never gain sentience?\"\n\n\"A small price to pay to save our best friends,\" the 'dog' sighed, \"You're just too stupid to share this planet with another sentient species.\"\n\n\"Hey now, I played along with this stupid story of yours because it was funny, and then you call ME stupid?\"\n\n\"You're running out of time! I've sent someone back in time to help you, he's already been briefed. I would have come myself but I'm still a dog,\" the line clicked. Puzzled, I placed the disconnected phone back in the cradle and set it down at my feet. Suddenly the door to the room burst open revealing a man shrouded in fog, his features obscured.\n\n\"Come quickly,\" he hurried into the room frantically looking around, \"we don't have much time!\"\n\n\"What the actual fuck,\" my jaw hit the floor as I stared at the M16 he was cradling, \"Wait, no dude, whoever you are, I don't have time for this shit. My brother is getting married in one hour and I'm the best man. Whatever prank you're a part of, I just can't right now.\"\n\n\"This is no joke, the aliens will be landing outside this building in just thirty seconds, hurry!\" He grabbed my arm and pulled me through the house to the backyard, \"Take this.\" He reached into his jacket and pulled an Uzi, handing it to me.\n\n\"Holy fuck this is a real gun,\" I said fumbling the weapon around like some kind of suicidal juggler.\n\n\"There it is!\" he shouted, pointing to the sky. Sure enough, a flying saucer was descending to the ground without a sound.\n\n\"But--I--this--what--\" I was literally dumbfounded as the craft touched down. A slit appeared in the side of the smooth metal bulkhead, revealing a landing ramp.\n\n\"Take cover,\" the man shouted and shoved me behind the grill. I peered around the side of the propane tank at two grey aliens descending gracefully down the ramp.\n\n\"DIE ALIEN SCUM!\" the man shouted and opened fire on the aliens. They reacted with lighting reflexes, pulling laser pistols from their belts and firing back. One of the shots hit the propane tank I happened to be hiding behind, exploding the container and sending me flying. A white hot flash of pain followed by a numbing cold fell over me. I couldn't move my legs or, holy shit, my arm was laying ten feet away from me. I was dead, I had to be dead. I felt no pain and couldn't move, but I could still think.\n\n*END PROGRAM*\n\n\"Yo, Mark, what the fuck happened to the VR program?\" I sat up and ripped the goggles off my face.\n\n\"Sorry,\" he was standing at a console next to my VR bed, \"Gravimetric interference from the planet must have done something to the program.\"\n\n\"Planet?\" I forgot the strange VR dream instantly, \"You mean we're here?\"\n\n\"Mars.\"", "(Meta: So this was part of a nightmare that I am just waking up from. As I have no desire to fall asleep yet, I'll share the story! Sorry it doesn't entirely fit the original requested parameters)\n\n\nMy flatmates and I were all hanging out in the living room. I was on my bed, Tray was on the foot of my bed, Lance was playing guitar in his chair, his girlfriend Mar was on the ground next to him. \n\"I just think it's so weird that this thing will ring on it's own! I love it!\" Lance exclaimed, referencing the large dial phone he found in his closet. \"It's not even plugged in to anything!\"\n\"Maybe it's some sort of latent energy distortion?? Voices of previous users end up stuck, or modern day ghosts even!\" Tray postulated.\n\"Tray, no. That's not how things works. That's just wrong.\" I was getting unreasonably worked up over this. Thankfully Mar needed something in Tray's room and they both left. \nAs they leave, Lance suddenly looks at me astounded. \"It's just so weird! How did the phone ring?\"\n I informed him (because I was scared for him) that the phone had not rung at all. He responded with the coldest, most soulless yet malicious glare I have ever seen a human make. Instantly his face turns back to the guitar and I feel something jump on the bed with me. It's small, but nowhere near subtle or slight. Frozen in fear I think the words \"there's nothing on the bed.\" The feeling was ridiculous, surely. There was nothing that was as evil as I felt that could be bouncing on the bed. I repeated the words, until the point they were audible. Until I was no linger desperately repeating them for self assurance. I repeated them until they grew from paralyzed internal screaming to inaudible mutterings to barely distinguishable whimpers. there's nothing on the bed there's nothing on the bed \"there'snothingonthebedthere'snothing onthebed there's nothing onthebed. There's nothing on the bed. There's nothing on the bed. Nothing is on the bed.\"\nAnd then it jumped again.\n" ]

[ 2, 2 ]

[ "1414726713", "1414754476" ]

[ "I went home after work like any other day. It had been such a very long time since I was last happy. I don't think I'm depressed, but maybe that's just the medications talking. I'll have to eat dinner, I suppose.\n\nAfter making myself two plain chicken breasts, I sit down at my computer and remember an old notebook from my childhood. A couple pages had only a little bit of writing on them, and the book was far from filled.\n\nThe first page was scribbled by the hands of a child. \n\n\"Today, October 17, 1983, my father did not return from work. Mother says he left, and I believe her.\"\n\nThe second even sillier.\n\n\"Today, May 17, 1989, Kyle from school killed himself. I miss Kyle, he was a good friend.\"\n\nThe third was blank. A new slate, I suppose. I wonder if writing about the past works too.\n\n\"On June 17, 2013, I married Taryn Mohn.\"\n\nThe pictures I kept on my bedside table were still there. They didn't disappear, just sat mocking me.\n\nCome to think of it, Kyle *has* been dead for many years now. I never did know my father growing up.\n\nI guess this book is nothing but a childish outlet for my emotions.", "*And when those two collided, it was kismet; they knew they were meant to be. They leaned in to kiss each other as was expected. They made love later that night as was expected. When she became pregnant, he married her. When they had been married three weeks, she fell. They had the funeral for the tiny coffin a week later.*\n\nAnd poof, I was gone.", "I walked out of the classroom, holding in my mind the knowledge that I had failed Political Science. I hadn't studied. I hadn't prepared. I had done nothing. I just went in, scribbled a ton of answers down and left. My heart was relaxed and a smile was on my face. I went down and bought a mocha from the coffee shop and sat down. Grabbing a pencil from my pocket and my notebook from my backpack, I sat there and wrote down on the page:\n\n\"I had entered the classroom wonderfully prepared. The test was no real challenge and I had scored a 83% on the exam.\"\n\nAfter putting the period at the end, I waited. \n\nTime began to tick and before I realized it, it had become noon. I went online and checked my grade on the final exam. \n\n83%. Just the way I liked it. I could have given myself a higher score, sure, but I had learned to be careful. \n\nSee, the thing is I wasn't the only one who had the ability. There were so many others. One kid, in that same class, had that power and he brandished it like it was nothing. One day, he stopped coming to class. Then I found out his name wasn't on the roster. Then I found out he didn't exist. \n\nSomeone, somewhere, something made that kid just...not exist. It was a message to all other owners of this power: Brandish it, glorify it, reveal it and you'll lose more than it.\n\nNo one knew who had these powers. I had to be more cautious when using it. \n\nPlus, 83% was enough to pass. So it was fine. I left the shop and continued on my way, watching carefully the world around me.", "As Bruce opened the mysterious book, he felt accomplished. He had gone on a wacky adventure to obtain this artifact. After decades of studying, solving contraptions and escaping dungeons, he pieced together the purpose of this book. It translated as \"Erase the Past\".\n\nHe knew what he wanted to write. He would to erase the deaths of his parents. It was a trauma he had to bear all his life. He could still smell the lingering gunpowder in the air from that day in the alleyway. The man was simply supposed to rob them but instead took out the gun and there was a bang. Next thing Bruce knew was that his parents were dead. The event had transformed his life forever.\n\nHe started writing. **“It started with a big bang.”** \n\nThe book suddenly activated and started glowing. The building started shaking more and more violently until….\n\n*There was nothing.*\n" ]

[ 1, 2, 3, 8 ]

[ "1414788974", "1414772324", "1414776926", "1414784589" ]

[ "http://phungphilosophy.tumblr.com/post/101470094973/one-of-your-kind-response-to-a-reddit-writing-prompt\n\nWasn't enough room here, but here is what I wrote.", "The doors in the medical center opened as I began clutching my chest because of this unbearable pain. \"Hello, there! Welcome to the center, what do you need?\" A cheery clerk asked. Without hesitation, I simply said \"I have chest pain going on for around a few days now, it's become unbearable.\" And that's all I remembered from two weeks ago, or so the doctors told me.\n\n Right now, though, I was in my recovery bed, obviously bewildered, with several scientists in hazmat suits surrounding me, all with wide eyes, and the expression that describes nothing but shock and awe. Then, one doctor approached me with caution. What he said next changed my life forever. With slow and cautious words, he said, \"Mr. Daniel Skorenstien, you are the first, and only one of your kind.\"\n", "I dragged myself awake to the sound of voices.\n\n\"Are the contractions over?\"\n\n\"Yes, doctor. The patients condition has stabilized. Blood flow is interesting, to say the least, but it conforms to the patients measured average.\"\n\n\"What's our average based on?\"\n\n\"Six months of monitoring, doctor. Constant.\"\n\nSix months? \n\n\"Understand, please, that I find it hard to believe.\"\n\n\"I do, sir. The contractions were, from the patients own testimony, present from around May 2014 to now.\"\n\n\"Amazing. This changes everything, you know. Everything.\" \n\n\"I'm aware, sir.\"\n\nMay? I started hurting in May...it was sudden. I was on my couch, eating chips and watching reruns of *Dancing with the Stars*, when my chest burst out in pain.\n\nI groggily opened my eyes. I could see perfectly. And oddly enough, I could see the whole room from my spot on the operating table...\nNormally, I can barely see further than my arm...oh my god. \n\n*Where the hell are my---*\n\n\"Doctor!\" A woman burst into the room, a nurse. \"She's lucid!\" \nThe doctor froze, horrified. The other man, wearing a suit, showed less emotion, but backed up a step. He smelled afraid. \n\nHe smelled afraid? I tried to stand. \n\n\"I need tranquilizers, nurse!\"\n\nWhy, for me? I grabbed the doctor. I just had to ask him what was wrong. His pupils were dilated. He had wet himself. I asked him why he was scared. \n\n\"You...we didn't think you...you're the first...the only...\" he trailed off. *Fine,* I thought. I'll ask myself. The doctor went slack.\n\n\"You, in the suit,\" I asked, though the doctor spoke. \"Why are you frightened?\"\n\n\"Ma'am, your appearance is...unusual.\" The suit had seemed to slacken, too. \n\n\nI hummed. \"Nurse, get me a mirror,\" the suit and doctor ordered in unison. \n" ]

[ 6, 9, 32 ]

[ "1414818500", "1414813829", "1414813853" ]

[ "Necessary Economics 101, Tech building in room B02. The class was a cold windowless room in the basement. A couple of other students sat in the back with one or two at the front. David took his seat on the right hand side in the third row. \n\nA red-haired girl sat a few seats over to his left. With any luck, David thought, I'll get to know her over the semester. She was dressed in pajama bottoms and a baggy hoodie. A really baggy hoodie. Way to big for her, he thought. Is it her boyfriends? \n\nThe professor walked into the room carrying a suitcase, which he dropped with a thump on his desk. \"Hello class I'm Doctor Hado. You're all adults so if I have to explain how a class works you can leave now.\" After a moment of silence the professor continued. \"You're lesson begins now, with a question. Slave traders would bring cargo from Africa to the US and sell all the slaves that survived the trip, for what they could. The traders didn't pack enough extra food for the slaves. Many would die on the voyage to America. So my question is this. Why didn't they protect their investment?\" \n\nThe class was quiet, the professor looked over them expectantly. A girl in the third row spoke up. \"They were racist, they just didn't care.\" The professor grimaced \"No, anyone else?\" A student in the back responded \"it weeded out the weak slaves, and only left the strongest specimens.\" The professor looked upset now \"Wrong again\". \n\nDavid rose his hand and the professor looked at him. \"because it would be cheaper for a few slaves to die than feed everyone properly.\" The professor raised his hand and pointed at David \"That's the kind of thinking I want to see out of each and everyone of you. Forget about your beliefs and preconceived notions about the world. I want you to forget emotion. This is Necessary Economics 101. We make the decisions that the capes could never even understand. \"", "I guess I should have taken more notice when I saw the module entitled “Death Ray: Effective Weapon or Superhero Bringer?” But what do I know about modern business courses? Nothing, apparently.\nNow that I come to think of it, the lecturer, a Professor Ernie Vile, was a little eccentric. He once showed us five effective ways to get out of a super-strong headlock. I did wonder just what I was getting myself into then. How irate could customers get? I only wanted to start a small photography business. Also, I would like to make it absolutely clear that I never went in there to become a supervillain. I honestly believed it was a business course right up until the League of Heroes burst through the door with their sting operation.\n\nI remember once we were asked to take in something in that would be a symbol of our trade. The Captain, he’s the one with the cape, brought in a sort of gun to which he’d attached pipes filled with a blue liquid. He said it didn’t work yet, but that it would truly revolutionise the world. I thought that was a little over the top. I mean, paintball is fun, but it’s hardly revolutionary.\n\nSomeone else brought in a crystal of some sort. It was kind of iridescent and emitted a faint humming noise. A bedside light designed to lull children to sleep, maybe? He wouldn’t say where he got it, just that it was some sort of meteor remnant. He had a friend he always brought with him who carried everything for him and gave out stern looks if someone ever tried to contradict him. He had apparently been a loyal employee of Czar Dee Struction for years. What kind of parents name their kid Czar, anyway? Hippies, obviously. That also explained the fascination with crystals.\n\nFor my part, I took in a camera because… Well, what else symbolises photography better than a camera? I remember when it was my turn to show it and everyone asked me, rather enthusiastically, what it did. Took pictures, I explained.\nThis was met with some confusion. Did it evaporate people, Anne Archy asked. No, I explained. It was a camera. Did it hypnotise? I laughed. People did tend to become mesmerised when you were snapping photos of city buildings, yes.\nThis seemed to satisfy them and afterwards I had a rather bizarre conversation with a hunched up man who suggested that a bright enough flash could be used to blind people.\n\nIt was about six months later, and the professor had asked to see our progress with our various projects. I had brought in my camera, as usual, and a portfolio I had been working on. The hunched man came over and excitedly handed me a handheld flash. The captain had added some reservoirs to his gun for the strange water, and he said it presently only worked at short range, but he expected to have a fully working version in a few weeks.\nCzar had placed the crystal in a kind of metal box with a crude convex dish cut into one side. It reminded me of a square death star. He said that the dish amplified the effect of the crystal. I remember rolling my eyes at it.\n\nJust then, the door burst open and in jumped eight costumed men, in my shock I triggered the flash, and four of them dropped to their knees clutching at their eyes. One of them, The Gavel, or something, jumped over to me and got me in a headlock. The man was incredibly strong, and so I used number three of the five effective ways to get out of a super-strong headlock. He tumbled to the floor and Czar pressed a button on his box. A ray of blue light shone out and knocked down Gavel and Mr. Truth. I saw then that the Captain, was having trouble with the guy in the pink leotard, and had dropped his paintball gun. I grabbed it with the intension of shooting him in the eyes, those paintballs could do some serious damage when up close, but instead the liquid streamed out and pink-leotard man just kind of… disintegrated. That was an utter shock, and probably about the time I realised this wasn’t a common old garden business course.\n\nThe Victor, or Victorator, whatever his name was, it should have been The Vacator because he just jumped out through the ceiling and we never saw him again.\n\nAnd that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I am speaking to you as Supreme Evil Leader of The World.\nPlease, remain calm and collected during the transitional period. Or don’t, I don’t care either way. But riots, protests or any kind of dissent will be met with the most swift and brutal action.\n" ]

[ 5, 12 ]

[ "1414977946", "1414959519" ]

[ "This prompt reminds me of a short story by Peruvian author José Adolph, titled \"Nosotros, No,\" or us, no (not us, perhaps?) Anywho, [here's](http://hispanicexplorer.tripod.com/nosotros_no.htm) the original version en Espaol, and [here's](http://www.scribd.com/doc/201078807/Nosotros-no-English-Translation) a translated version. \n\nIn this story, the only people who can receive the immortality shot are youth who haven't fully developed, meaning that the entire immortal community will never grow old. Well worth 2 minutes.", "**Extract from the journal of director of Military Intelligence Section 7, Lord Michael Rothermere, United Monarchy of Great Britain:** \n\n22/06/2200 A.D. \n\nMy line of work requires logic more than morality. It requires a willingness to sacrifice, for that is what has gotten us through. I often remind myself of the horrors of the Third Great War one hundred and fifty years ago, when the fossil fuel crises hit the world. They were desparate times, and the Crown answered it's call of duty under secret order 1066. An executive body that made the decisions that had to be made, without delay. Many lives were lost, many freedoms sacrificed - but were it not for that then I would not be breathing. \n\nMI7 was set up during the beginning of the Third Great War as an acknowledgement to the fact that technology is what wins wars then, and now. And I have served in my post to the fullest of my ability. I worked with the best men and women from the United Monarchy and it's neo-Colonies, and I have seen some incredible things, many of which I have written about in this journal. But what I will write now has been so classified that no other official records exist. \n\nI am writing about Project Lazarus. \n\nThis project was the culmination of MI7's research into the human genome. Many experiments of genetic manipulation were carried out in order to produce \"super soldiers\" - advanced human beings who were faster, stronger, more intelligent and superior in every way. Of course, every experiment had it's...ramifications, but with these tragic mistakes came greater and greater understanding. \n\nThat is when the head of MI7's human genome project, doctor Evan McMillan, revealed to me a dark secret. Even before the establishment of MI7 and the Third Great War, just before the beginning of the Millenia even, the United Monarchy, then the United Kingdom, had authorized certain experiments. These were apparently so secret, that only certain officials and those within the project were informed - even I, and all the directors of MI7 before me, were kept in the dark. The department of Human Genome Research within MI7 had been something else entirely then, and it was then that they had already unlocked the secret to immortality. \n\nA serum that was injected in small amounts all over the body, once every fifty years, gave the recepient eternal life. Immortality. He revealed this to me several months ago under direct orders of His Majesty, King Daniel. \n\nSubject 0 was the experiment. A man who was apparently more than two hundred and thirty years old, but looked and preformed just the same as when he started treatment. It was then that I demanded to see for myself this subject 0, and what I encountered still haunts me. \n\n**The encounter with subject 0 of Project Lazarus** \n\nDeep within the bowels of the MI7 building in London, our very own capital and under my nose, lived subject 0. As Doctor McMillan guided me, I saw the sweat form on his brow, the trembling in his hands as he swiped his card through several doors. Rooms and passageways that I never even knew existed, and the more I discovered the angrier I got for being kept in the dark. \n\n\"Please understand your Excellency, I had to obey the orders of the King - \"\n\n\"I know. Shut up.\" \n\nThese were the only exchange of words. \n\nFinally, behind a heavy steel door is where I met the subject. Two armed guards joined me, and when I looked at the Doctor he pleaded that I not send them away. After seeing the fear in his eyes I almost thought of sending him in there alone, but relented. \n\nThe cell was not bad. It was more of an apartment. Kitchen, bedroom, living area, toilet. And a nice apartment it would have been if not for all the pieces of paper lying around, paper filled with writing, the writing of someone frantic and in a hurry. The guards immediately raised their guns and went to the bedroom. We'd looked at the camera feed, and we found him just like we saw him through that screen, huddled and shaking. \n\n\"So what's the matter with the two hundred and thirty year old man?\" \n\nAs soon as I spoke, his face turned towards mine. His eyes were not simply full of life, but a burning fire - constantly wide, unblinking. The eyes of someone gone mad. He whimpered a little but did nothing as the guards trained their guns at him. Doctor McMillan's voice was a stammering mess - \n\n\"W-well, your excellency. The, er, um, the serum which I told you of. Remember it was to be injected all over the body. That included parts of the brain. It's why our friend here is shaved bald. Kind of makes it easier you-you know - \"\n\n\"Get to the bloody point McMillan\" \n\n\"Right, yes. The serum has had adverse effects on his brain function. At this moment in time, subject 0 is reliving and experiencing all the memories he ever had at, and with every second that passes by more and more is added to his memory. Every tremor his body makes, every whimper he utters, every movement of air he feels on the back of his neck - he is permanently reliving all of it simultaneously. A life time's worth of memories is manageable...with the help of certain drugs. But several life times' worth? Not so much.\" \n\n\"And the paper? The writing?\" \n\n\"From our records, subject 0 was a writer before he, er, volunteered for project Lazarus. We think that he tried writing down his experiences as a way to get them out of his brain. Obviously, that didn't -\" \n\n\"MAKE IT STOP! PLEASE MAKE IT FUCKING STOP!\" \n\nSubject 0 clawed at his own head, drawing blood as he started sobbing unctrollably. The guards jumped into action like they were rehearsing an exercise. One held him down, and the other injected him with a sedative. The struggles slackened until he calmed down once again.\n\nMcMillan had a look of shame and guilt that was unprecedented. He talked now in a low, hoarse whisper, \n\n\"We have to do this approximately every two hours or so. He never sleeps naturally, only when his brain is so exhausted that he loses consciousness for several hours.\" \n\nA chuckle escaped his throat as his eyes looked into the distance, reminscing, \n\n\"He even remembers being in his mother's womb.\" \n\nA silence descended on us, save for the ocassional whimper from subject 0 as he tossed and turned in bed. The several minutes seemed an hour before I spoke again, \n\n\"Why has the King ordered you to reveal this to me now?\" \n\n\"Your Excellency. We have been trying to solve the problem of this reaction, but for the two hundred years of our work we were unable to do anything. As present director of MI7, the King wants you to make the decision as to what to do with him.\" \n\nI have written about the sacrifices of humanity and freedom that we have endured. But what I saw then was a perversion of our aims. A man who was immortal but reduced to madness, is like a man of strength but of no bravery. The Third Great war occured because of our greed, and the greed to live eternally, apart from being blasphemous to our Lord and Saviour, is the greatest greed of all - a remnant of our shameful consumerism of the past. \n\nIt was then that I made the decision and watched the consequences of it as the guards executed him in his own bed. One shot to the head to end more than two hundred years of suffering. A suffering that he had to endure because McMillan, and those in the Human Genome department before him, were not willing to let go. They saw a potential miracle of course, but all I could see was a horror. \n\nAnd to his shock, I saluted the corpse that lay in it's bed before ordering a proper burial. \n\nAll official records of Project Lazarus have been destroyed. Not a trace remains save for this testament in my journal. Let this be a warning to others that, despite our advances and the sacrifices we are willing to make, there are lines we simply cannot cross. \n\n ", "The meeting at the corporate headquarters began as any other--minutes of the previous gathering, followed by the standard, \"Hello everybody\" from the CEO. From there, however, it was only downward spiral. \n\n\"Alright,\" the CEO said, \"Mrs. Cavendish, can you repeat what you said in that memo you sent me to the entire board of directors.\" \n\n\"Ms. Cavendish,\" Cindy responded confidently as her hands rested calmly on the faux leather placemat. \"While our initial results are inconclusive, the human trials of PTX 417 repeat the results we had received during animal testing: in a little over 50% of subjects, tissue throughout our subjects' bodies no longer degrade as in standard people, major organs have a significantly lower propensity to fail, and, most notably, PTX 417 seems to have slowed the natural process of DNA degrading and mutating such that changes to our DNA during cell division very rarely occur.\"\n\n\"In other words,\" her co-researcher Paul cut in, \"we have discovered immortality.\" Paul sat back in his chair with a smug sense of satisfaction as he admired the holes left where the other men's lips used to be. \n\nAs Cindy shot Paul an irritated glance, the CEO stood up to take command of the room, \"I know that Mrs. --\" \n\n\"Ms.\"\n\n\"*Ms.* Cavendish does not want to hype up her lab's findings, but this is a huge deal, not only for the hospital, but for our whole society! If, when we expand the trial, the results are consistent, this will be a milestone in human history. Just think! We could live for centuries!\" \n\nCindy sighed, and reluctantly said, \"Part of the reason I didn't want to hype this up is because, after the blind results came back, I looked at any correlations between success and race, medical history, and so on.\" It was Paul's turn to shoot Cindy a look. \"I know, it's premature to make any assumptions, but I found that the only successful cases were in women. No men showed the signs I mentioned earlier.\" \n\nThe CEO glanced nervously at the board members, who now seemed restless. \"None? Not even one? That means...my god. What are we going to do?\"\n\nPaul interjected, \"I think you're getting ahead of yourself. This was only a sample size of 100 people. The next step would be to have a size of a few thousand. Only then will you get more conclusive results.\" \n\nThe CEO, however seemed to be in a daze, and the board was following the CEO's train of thought, ignoring Paul. The CEO sat down, repeating, \"What are we going to do?\"\n\nCindy, fingers now tapping apprehensively against the wood table, said, \"We present our findings to the USDA and move on to the next trial period. What else is there to this?\"\n\nThe CEO now looked expectantly around the room, avoiding Paul's and Cindy's incredulous stares. \"What are we going to do?\" Fire flashed across his eyes. \"What are we going to do?\" He was now standing, hovering over his placemat, shoulders hunched. \"What are we going to do‽\" Two droplets of sweat came off of his nose and chin. Frightened, Paul and Cindy stood up and began inching toward the door, never taking their eyes off their crazed leader. The CEO now whipped his head and glared directly at Cindy and Paul.\n\n\"*What are we going to do‽*\"\n\nThe board members sitting left of Cindy and right of Paul stood up so fast their chairs slid backwards a few feet, and jumped on Cindy. She screamed and thrashed as three more men held her down. Paul reached for a chair to try to beat the crazed men off of his coworker, but a sixth board member incapacitated Paul by kicking him the groin. \n\n\"What are we going to do?\" the CEO said softly, stepping slowly and meticulously toward Cindy, without taking their eyes from her. \n\nCindy screamed once more, but was drowned out by the fire alarm. She now realized that she is alone: her floor would have cleared by now. She had a 200 pound man on every limb, and a knee on either hip. Paul got up again, only to be kicked once more to the ground. Cindy looked toward the CEO, and begged, \"I can keep this a secret. I'll never tell anybody. Never. Women will continue living just as long as men. We won't do further testing.\" Paul was kicked again. \"This can't go on!\" \n\nShe looked directly into her eyes, and saw neither mercy nor kindness, neither empathy nor sympathy. She only saw utter disdain. Cindy knew then that there was no hope for either of them. \n\n\"What are we going to do?\" the CEO whispered for a final time before a board member hit her to the ground.", "Every child wants to be immortal. I mean living forever wouldn't that be cool? No. I thought the same when I was younger, 3,000 years ago. Truth is immortality is torture. The cruelest thing the gods could think of. Watching the world go by, all my loved ones growing old and dying, everything you loved about this world torn from your hands. Each century I get a little comfier then I get destroyed, every, goddamn time. \n\nI was there when Genghis Kahn raped and pillaged innocent children and women. I was there during the Holocaust, my wife was jewish. They forced me to watch as 14 men shot her to bits in the street. I was in WW1 and 2. I made friends with the comrades by my side. Only to watch them die. There isn't many pros to being immortal, just a long fucking list of cons. Well I guess getting punched in the face by Abraham Lincoln is pretty cool. \n\nI've been forced to watch the world's many tragedies over and over. Thousands of innocent people dying. \n\nI shall do the same for the rest of time. Unless Hades decides to lift the banishment from his realms.", "It started out great. we could not die. It started with a few wealthy people being the first to use it but then started filtering out to the masses. An end to sickness and death. It sounded like paradise. Then the economics of a world without death started to sink in.\n\nThe unemployment rate started to skyrocket. If no one died, no one ever retired. In fact no one could retire because those that did would never have enough money to last and the ones that did taxed the social secruity program till it broke. The health care system also had massive layoffs. massive layoffs of funeral homes. \n\nIt was decided that the process of immortality had to be controlled. It was too powerful to let anyone use it. You had to show a pressing common good for the world to extend your life eternal. This did slowly start to normalize everything but it created another problem.\n\nThe gap between rich and poor became the gap between immortals and non-immortals. immortality did tend to give a person a long time to amass a large empire. Soon there was a war. A bloody war between the Immortals who amassed powers over centuries and the common man who could not afford or be gifted with the power of the immortal. ", "When it began, I was called Genius. I changed the face of science, laughed at death, and ushered in the era of the superman.\n\nI was called Leader. My favored few were picked from the multitudes of man, and together we challenged any and all who would seek to do harm. \n\nWe were called Hero. We fought wickedness, cruelty, hunger, servitude, ensuring every man would live a full life, their lives being finite.\n\nWe were called Gods. The small people of this world clamored at our feet, praying for the gift to be bestowed upon them, feigning great feats in hopes of proving \"worthy.\"\n\nWe were called Selfish. The masses made demands of us that we were not prepared to answer, and so we gave them nought but silence. They pleaded. They begged. They screamed. Their bombs went off and dust filled the air they struggled to breathe. They gasped. We stayed silent.\n\nWe are called Nothing. The Few have known the names that lie littered in our wake. We have no need for them now. We shall have no need for them ever again, for we are We, and nothing more is relevant. We are We, We are The Few, and this broken world was left to us.", "113 years ago today, humanity stopped aging. The Serum gave everlasting life - mass produced, sold on corner-store counter-tops, it spread as a time-halting pandemic across the developed world. Initially, it was wildly embraced. Husbands and wives went Immo together. Families held reunions and went Immo en masse. Creative folks held funerals for their mortality, or final birthday parties to freeze themselves precisely at a certain age. The planet at large hailed the Serum as nothing short of miraculous.\n\nSure there were problems. Children too young going Immo was a disaster. An eternity of spit-up and diapers for unwitting parents. Those too old, whose bodies had already partly failed them, faced the ages with dysfunctional systems. Inmates across the world railed to be permitted to take the Serum and riots erupted in prisons when they were denied.\n\nAnd of course, we were told it was safe. Entirely harmless. Except no one had done long-term testing. How could they, when the very term was redefined with the invention of the Serum?\n\nThe governments banned it, of course. Supposedly all stock held has been destroyed. But the damage is done. From the moment you take it, your body stops aging, stops changing. No one took into account that women need to change to have children. And now we can't. Which, alone might be a surmountable issue, but combined with the Side Effect, well, it's no wonder we're dying out. You see, exactly 100 years, to the second, after someone takes The Serum, they die. And no one knows why.", "Disclaimer: New to Reddit. If I'm doing something wrong I apologize.\n\nEver since the New Russian Empire lost the war, we've kept a slew of their top officers in our prisons. Our... interrogations... have been fruitless. We still don't know how their soldiers were so superhuman. Machine gun fire to the head and chest didn't stop them. Grenades didn't stop them. Beheading them didn't stop them. No matter how much their bodies were dismembered, they always had full control of every one of their muscles. So long as they had as much as a hand left in one piece they still tried to fire their guns. Even the ones we've ground into piles of meat still show control over their remnants despite no longer having a brain; the mounds of shredded flesh moving, as if still trying to fight us.\nWe have not witnessed a single Russian soldier in the war talk, laugh, cry, smile, or show any form of emotion. We fear that in addition to being an immensely unnatural procedure, it also causes severe psychological and physical pain, assuming they can still even feel pain of any sort.\nThis has proved disastrous to the UN. We use the term ‘immortality’ when discussing it, but we aren't even sure if that’s what it is. Are they even alive? We've declared immortality illegal under international law, but we have no way of enforcing it. We don’t know how it’s done. We don’t know if it’s reproducible or practical. We don’t know how to stop it. We don’t know anything.\n\n\n\nAny feedback would be appreciated!" ]

[ 1, 1, 3, 3, 9, 13, 15, 42 ]

[ "1414986030", "1414987347", "1414984282", "1414984485", "1414961017", "1414963639", "1414983104", "1414957885" ]

[ "\"Well, Gary, I think that was no denying the drama in that match, but ultimately Felton was the finer folder, don't you agree?\"\n\n\"I'd have to have \"yes and no\", Dave. Sedaris has proved himself to be a master wizard with the paper before, and I would have to say that his technical skill outmatches Felton's. But when you commit to spending the whole match time on one big piece, it's an all-or-nothing gamble. A one-paper multi-level London skyline was clearly going to be impressive, but if run out of time before your folding, then you just have to hope the judges appreciate your working out. And as you could see here, he knew the pressure was building on him and that make it harder to keep the focus. Not so much because Felton was knocking out piece after piece after piece, but because the crowd was cheering him on for it. Big folding projects in your own space or a local crowd are totally different from doing them in a League match, and it's hard to know how different it is. I didn't, the first time, and I almost lost it completely.\"\n\n\"Do think that it's better to be workmanlike than artistic?\"\n\n\"That sounds unfair to both of them, really, but the most important thing is to have something to present when the match is over that isn't half of a work in progress. I think that Felton's menagerie might have been a bit less imaginative, but with every paper animal, he was delivering again and again. A good show for the crowd and the judges and a good tableau at the end. Felton has that balance. Sederis is way better at the artistry, but that only gets you so far. You have to have the performance, and you have to know that you have a plan that will take you the allotted time, and then you step back and you have something that is ready to display. Sedaris had a big plan, but it was too big, and all one piece. If he'd finished it, I reckon he'd have have a definite win. Felton had a plan that wasn't so ambitious, but he paced himself well and if he'd been caught out three-quarters done, he'd still have had plenty that was ready for the judges.\"\n\n\"Okay. We'll get the contestent's views on the match in a moment, but first, Gary, where do you think they will go from here?\"\n\n\"Obviously, the next thing for Felton is the final, and I should think he'll be getting called up for the Premier League, and he's certainly a good chance of being called up for the England team. It's a shift to go from solo origami to team projects, but he looks like a good prospect. Sederis goes to the play-offs, but I can't see why he wouldn't be here next year.\"\n\n\"Thank you. Now over to John...\"", "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, kids and adults of all ages, have we got a show for you tonight. It is a beautiful day for a WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP here in Wrigley Stadium, Chicago, Illinois!\n\n*The crows goes wild*\n\nWatch as these true Masters of Paper flip, fold, crease and crumple their way to victory!\n\nIn the red corner, representing the Soviet Union, weighing in at a whopping one hundred and eighty-four pounds, measuring five whole feet and three inches and having over nine thousand local, regional and national level championships under her belt, it's the proud supporter of the Red Flag, the Commie Cossack, the Bombshell from Братск, VODKA DRUNKESKIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!\n\n*Pro-Communism chants from the audience*\n\nAnd here in the blue corner, the defending world champ, representing the good 'ol US of A, weighing in at about two hundred pounds, measuring six feet and one inch, and with his superhuman-like TEN INCH INDEX FINGER...\n\n*U S A! U S A! U S A! U S A!*\n\nThe Patriotic Patriarch, the Pride of Baltimore, the Folding Farmer Flying the Flag, KENNY \"THE FINGER\" EEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGLLEEE\n\n*A man dressed completely in red, white and blue sings the National Anthem, complete with fireworks, followed by the anthem of the Soviet Union as a giant poster of Stalin is raised in the background. The contestants take their places and awkwardly shake hands around Kenny's monster-finger.*\n\nThis is gonna be one for the record book, folks. The greatest rivalry in history all boils down to this one event. Who will come out on top?\n\n*The ref gives the thumbs up*\n\nAND NOW, without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, LET'S GET READY TO FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLDD!!!!", "McDribbles: \"Live, from Madison Square Garden, it's the World Origami Cup! I'm your host, McDribbles, along with our star commentators Kim, and Gary.\"\n\nKim: \"Thank you McDribbles, we're all excited to be here!\"\n\nGary: \"That's right, Kim. Today we have our finalists, Mr. Ori Gami- representing the clear favourites Japan, and Mr. Mummi Fied- representing Egypt.\"\n\nKim: \"You know, Gary, I'm excited to see Japan back on the finals, especially after their previous upset in the last championship by Canada. Can they bring back the coveted trophy back home?\"\n\nGary: \"I'm not too sure, Kim. Egypt has been a solid contender this year, sort of a dark horse, really. With both teams having their Ace Folder out on the field, this is anyone's game.\"\n\nMcDribbles: \"Get ready folks, it's the battle between the greats! Japan, may have invented the sport of Origami, but Egypt invented the paper itself. Which of these two titans will take home the glory? Find out after these few words from our sponsors.\"\n\n=Commercial Break=\n\nMitch: \"Hi, I'm Mitch- The Glove- Love, two time world origami champion, here to tell you about the Flapper Fold, your only origami folding gloves, proven to last until your very last fold. Wonder how I stay in such great shape and have such great precision? Thanks to the nano-fold technology, Flapper Fold Gloves give you the very best in bending the competition! Just three payments of $78.99 plus shipping and handling, and these gloves can be yours- today! But Wait! If you call within the next 15 minutes, we will DOUBLE your order! Why wait, call today!\"\n\n=Commercial break ends=\n\nMcDribbles: \"AAAANNNNDD We're back! the match is about to start, and the players have received their papers, with Japan on the left, and Egypt on the right.\"\n\n=DING DING DING!=\n\nKim: \"Oh! and a fantastic start for both teams!\"\n\nGary: \"Wow look at the speed of Egypt's Ace, Mummi! He's already on his second stage, with two quick right angle folds, to perfect precision!\"\n\nKim: \"You're right, Gary, his angular tactics *are* indeed impressive, but check out Japan, Ori is taking a rather unusual route, his folds *decreasing* in size than the last...\"\n\nGary: \"Oh I don't know, Kim, that sure is a risky strategy! But will it pay off?\"\n\nKim: \"I hope so, Gary.\"\n\nGary: \"Oh! And *another* great fold by Mummi!\"\n\nKim: \"Ori counters with a backfold!\"\n\nGary: \"*It's super effective!*\"\n\nKim: \"Mummi might be paralyzed, he may not be able to move!\"\n\nGary: \"How will Mummi respond to this vicious counterfold attack?!\"\n\nKim: \"OH! and Mummi uses a double front fold!\"\n\nGary: \"*Critical Hit!*\"\n\nKim: \"Wow, and Japan calls for time out!\"\n\nMcDribbles: \"Both players seem like they are battling it out, and the side looks dead even... how will this play out?!! Find out, after another word from our sponsors.\"" ]

[ 2, 4, 6 ]

[ "1414964870", "1414962098", "1414960375" ]

[ "He rose slowly from the comfortable bed. The room was dark, but it didn’t seem to bother him. He stood up, threw on a pair of jeans over his boxers and dragged an old t-shirt over his head. For a moment, he stood still in the silence surrounding the room, before glancing over at a woman sleeping on the other side of the bed. While he reached over to kiss her forehead, his eyes filled up with tears. There was nothing he could do.\n\nThe hallway was just as dark as the bedroom, except for a faint light coming from underneath a door a few steps away from the master bedroom. The light lit up the wall across from the door, revealing a picture of him and the woman holding a newborn child. He turned his watery eyes away from the picture as he entered the room. An infant was sleeping soundly in his crib, surrounded by blue walls. He walked slowly towards the crib and stared at his son. Although his eyes were still watery, no tears were running down his face. He had tried before, to change upcoming events, and he knew from bitter experience that one way or another, fate would conquer him. \n\nHe poured himself a glass of whiskey before sitting down by the kitchen table. He glanced over at the clock on the oven; it was almost time. Sipping his whiskey, he heard his wife get up from upstairs. It was time for breastfeeding. He listened to her steps over his head, slowly reaching the infant’s room. He closed his eyes as the tears started streaming, her scream echoing around the house.\n", "His name is John. From all appearances he is a normal, if somewhat morose, teenage boy. But inside his head there is a constant storm of terrible thoughts and conflicting emotions. Ever since he can remember, he's been seeing little numbers, like an LED clock, appearing over everyone's head, all slowly ticking down at the same rate. He tried to see his own, but apparently the numbers didn't get reflected. When he was five, he asked his parents what his number said and they looked at him like he was crazy. No, he insisted, the numbers are there. Dad, look above mom's head! The numbers! They're right there! His parents were troubled; of course there were no numbers over their heads. So they sent the young John to a psychiatrist. Eventually, the young boy who saw the numbers floating in midair admitted to making it all up. Of course, the numbers remained, but at least he didn't have to see a doctor anymore. \n\nHe finally realized what the numbers meant when he saw his grandmother's numbers finally tick down to 0000000, but he didn't know what to do with the information. No matter what he did the numbers kept going tick, tick, tick. When he was 12, he helped a small boy who was playing out in the street, only to find out later that he died in a car wreck with his mother. At 15, he tried to help a young man standing on the edge of a bridge, only to, inevitably, see him jump to his own death. \n\nTo hell with this, he thought. Finally 18, he was going to leave home and live in the woods, away from people, never having to deal with the burden of knowing when everyone around him was going to die. He was on his way to the bus station, walking with purpose, head down so as not to see the numbers as usual. He stepped out into the street, and was struck. His last thought: damn electric cars.\n\n----\n\nHer name is Susan. From all appearances she is a normal, if somewhat morose, teenage girl. She saw the sad looking boy walking head down, his number ticking dangerously close to 0000000. But of course she didn't say anything. Last time she did, she was locked up in a psych ward. She sighed. To hell with this, she thought.", "It hurt to look at them. \n\nIt hurts to sit and watch them laugh but I smile anyway.\n\nMy best friend, Steve (August 8th 2019 suicide) and his fiance Melissa (July 4th 2018 strangled). \n\nSo happy together. \n\nSo in love.\n\nThat's how it works with everyone. Their lives can be so beautiful and full, but they all come to an end one way or another.\n\nIt's harder when you know them. Knowing just how and when the lights in their eyes are going to be extinguished. \n\nSteve's lights are going to go out on July 4th 2018 and there's nothing I can do to help my best friend.\n\nI'm just glad I can't see my timer. I don't care how or when I go, I'm just trying to fill my life with as many beautiful happy things and people as I can.\n\nBecause they're all worth it. Each and every one of them is worth the time spent getting to know. No matter how fast their end approaches. Their existence is beautiful and worth remembering.\n\nNo matter how much it hurts.\n\nI just hope some of them will feel the same about me when my timer runs out", "I have an ability. It isn't a power or a gift; it has messed up my life too much to ever be something positive. Just by seeing someones name or face I know how and when they will die. Well it isn't that clear. What happens is I see a face and then I know there name, it works the other way too, then there the flash of emotion and sensation as if it was happening to me.\n\n Say someone was going to drown, I would feel my lungs burning, maybe there would be a pulling or something holding me down followed by the terror of realizing that I am helpless. After that shock sets in and I go numb as everything fades away a time and date appear. For this and this alone I have perfect recall. In the order of when I first heard about them or saw them. The first was Dr. Terry Figgs, who delivered me, she will die of some kind of sickness in about five years. There is nothing I can do to help her. \n\n These premonitions are vague. I have been able to piece together what some deaths are by how commonly people die from them or some sensations that have an obvious cause. Otherwise I try to figure them out by finding their obituaries. That is also how I noticed that the time of death was off.\n\n When I was younger it could be as large a difference as a day or two, but now it is down to within minutes. At first I thought the improvement came from practice, but now I have another idea, I'll get to that in a minute. \n\n At first I thought I was meant to be some kind of hero, but the time span is too broad even now, and the circumstances to vague. I have tried warning people and outright telling them, but I have stopped because it is only pushing them away. \n\n This ability has given me so many questions. Why and how do I know this? Is there anyway I can save them? Why can't I see my own death? When will I die? I think I have the answer for the last one. \n\n I was thinking of all the people that I have seen or heard of and how each time I see a new one it alters the time of death for everyone else. It does this for the people who have already died in a way.\n\n All the people who have died still have time on the clock. When I add new people to the list the time goes down, but everyone of them have the same amount. With all the people on the list this adds up to quite a bit of spare time, maybe enough for the remainder of a life. \n \n I spent the last few days slowly counting up the number of people on the list. 988,201 people on the list each one about a minute off; a little less than 2 years to live. If my idea is right. \n \n There is one other thing I realized when I was making that list. Whenever I see someone new, before I am thrust into the details of their death, I get a sense of weightlessness and exhilaration. It has become more intense over the years, and though I can relive the moment of others deaths to full intensity I cannot do the same with this feeling. \n \n Until last week I thought it was the feeling of using this talent I possess. Then while I was hanging out with some friends at one of their houses and we were swimming in his pool. I was standing by the pool zoned out, trying not to think about how he was going to die in 3 months, and how I might be following him soon. While I wasn't paying attention my friend gave me a push. It was the same feeling. The rush of air in helpless free fall, the excitement of building speed and the expectation of impact. \n\n\n\n", "Tick. Tick. Tick. Aaron taps his pencil frantically against his desk as the sounds of the clock's gears refract about his skull. Beads of sweat roll down his face. It's about to happen. \n\nTick tick tick, five seconds. First, the woman in the desk by the window facing the street will stand up and scream. Tick. A horn blares as the enormous vehicle crashes through the building. Tick. The bus charges through the office, taking out everything and everyone in its path. Mary, John, Allen. Tick. The bus brushes by a support beam and tips over to its side, sliding to the opposite corner. Tick. Half of the office employees are dead or severely injured. The rest stand wide-eyed and shocked, shedding tears for those lost and for the broken families that had just been created. Tick.\n\nAt precisely 3:15:27 p.m. on a sunny afternoon, a public transit bus crashes through a one-story office building on the outskirts of the city. The driver and all passengers die upon impact. Half of the office employees remain unharmed, among them, is Aaron Midas. \n\nUnlike the legendary Midas, who was gifted with the power to turn anything into gold, Aaron is cursed. Death surrounds him wherever he travels. His eyes can see the exact time and circumstances of every man, woman, child, animal, or living thing they lay themselves upon. Ever since he was a boy Aaron was engulfed by the sad futures of those he encountered. He sees pain, tears, lost love. He wants it to end. He can't wait for the day to come. However, it is the one day that remains a mystery to him. \n\nAfter the police get their information for their reports and the ambulance finished checking the survivors for injuries, Aaron leaves his now damaged place of employment and heads home. \nHe sits on the train and tries to relax. A man is standing by the doors, staring out the window. In a year, he will develop lung cancer. He will battle for three years but eventually fall victim to the disease. 1:49:10 a.m. 3/15/2018. A teenage boy listens to very loud music a few seats away from Aaron. In a few months, he will take his own life by overdosing on his father's painkillers. 11:31:32 p.m. 1/23/2015. A young woman sits happily in the seat across from Aaron. In two years, due to birth complications, she will die giving birth to her first child. 9:45:57 a.m. 10/12/2016. The train reaches Aaron's stop. Quickly, he stands up and leaves the train, holding back his tears the best he can. \n\nAs he returns home, Aaron's wife Christina stands at the doorstep with tears filling her eyes and a wide smile spread across her face. She must have heard the news about the office. She runs up to him and embraces him tightly, telling him how grateful she is that he's not hurt. A bright smile grew on Aaron's face. He loved Christina more than anything; she was the only person who could make him feel happiness. Then he sees it--the image that made his smile fade away a million times before. A beautiful young woman, cold, pale, and lifeless, lying in a pool of her own blood. \n\nA tear rolls down his face as he witnesses the moment that will cause his smile to fade away for eternity.\n\n12:13:33 a.m. 5/3/2019.", "Steve tried to warn everybody, the world was going to end. December 19th. Of course nobody believed him, \"there's a new world ending theory every year, he was told. \n\nThe ability to see when everybody would die, just by making eye contact was never a blessing. The first time he tried to save a man, he almost got shot for his trouble, the second time he was thrown in jail. After that he decided to only help subtly, try and guide people from there death, it never worked. Even when he changed their course of action, it lead to their death. He was the indirect cause. Steve stopped trying. \n\nOne day Steve realized, he never saw any dates into the year 2017. He began recording the dates he saw. The latest he had was December 19th, 4:47. The only explanation he could think; at this time, or shortly after, the world would end. \n\nAfter many attempts to convince news agencies, the government, anybody he could, he grew tired of it constantly falling on deaf ears. Resigned to the fate of Earth he choose to hope that the curse just stopped working on that date. \n\nDecember 19th, 4:49 PM.\n\n\"Well the world didn't end, guess my luck finally came through, I'm finally rid of this curse.\" Steve thought to himself as he checked his watch, for what felt like the millionth time that day. \"Guess it's time to get back to life.\" As he looks up he sees his bus pull into the stop across the street. \n\n\"Shit! It's five minutes early!\" \n\nA horn blares.\n\n\"So that's why the times stopped,\" He thought to himself as the speeding truck hit him.", "Today is November 3, 2014 and until now I was so careful. My whole life, well, ever since I had learned about my... ability. I had to be. For my own sake. How was I supposed to live a normal life, treat everyone the same, when I *knew*. I could just look at someone and know exactly how and when they would die. Was I just supposed to accept everyone like that? I mean, it's not like I'm being a racist or a xenophobe or bigoted or *anything*. You can't even give it a name. A *time -ist*? \n\nI was so careful of who I let in. Who I spent my time with. But people stopped having names to me.\n\nMy mother, January 3rd, 1998, car wreck.\nMy father, October 14th, 2021 respiratory failure.\nMy brother, September 22nd, 2034, Leukemia.\n\nYou can't choose who your family is.\n\nMy best friend, December 5th, 2061, complications during open heart surgery. A nice safe choice.\n\nMy neighbors, March 5th, 2039 and December 14th, 2044.\nMy employer, July 12th, 2033. \n\nHell, I was even careful with my dog. I remember when I picked her up from the pound as a puppy. May 1st, 2026, we've still got plenty of great years together.\n\nEveryone in my life, so carefully chosen and quantified. It may look sick to someone looking in but it keeps me safe and sane. It's not even a big deal to me anymore... at least it wasn't.\n\nUntil *she* walked in.\n\nThe most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Our eyes met and it was love at first sight.\n\nShe said her name was August 25th, 2018, brain aneurysm.\n\n ", "It began as a young child, but then it was only a feeling that came over him at times. As he grew into his teenage years, he began to fully understand what he was capable of. At first he could only sense the impending death of people he had a personal connection with, but with time he could merely lock eyes with anyone and know their time of death and the general cause. \n\nThis was a burden he did not want, and as a result he struggled with crippling depression, unable to share his secret with anyone. Walking around looking at his shoes became the norm, trying to avoid catching a glance and knowing the demise of yet another person. Even so, it was impossible to ignore everyone all the time, and the weight on his shoulders grew day by day.\n\nAs he walked down the sidewalk on a busy day, he found himself accidentally making way too much eye contact, and was particularly saddened by the young father that would die from cancer in only five years. He wanted so badly to help him, but he knew he couldn't fight the disease that was going to take his life. All he could do was live with the knowledge of his awful fate.\n\nLost in his thoughts, he didn't see the woman going the other way until their shoulders collided. Her phone went flying out of her hands, and as he apologized he bent down to pick it up for her. They locked eyes, and the feeling hit him harder than it ever had before.\n\n*Two minutes. Car accident.*\n\n\"Ma'am, you're not going to believe me, but you need to go inside now. Please get away from the street.\" \n\nHe spoke without thinking, still stunned by what was going on. He had never encountered someone this close to death, and he couldn't sit by and do nothing. This wasn't a disease, a car accident could be prevented.\n\n\"Why?\" She asked, grabbing her phone and backing up with a confused and scared look sweeping across her face.\n\n\"Please, just trust me. Something really bad is going to happen if you don't get away from the street.\" He tried to explain.\n\n\"Get away from me.\" The woman said, clearly afraid he was going to do something to her.\n\nHe reached for her arm, and it was a terrible decision. She took off running from him, and never saw the car blowing through the red light. \n\nHe never tried to save anyone again. He could only know; he was powerless to stop fate. ", "He sat outside the café by himself quietly sipping at his coffee and watching the people go by. He followed some with more interest than others. A woman, pushing a pram with a baby had only days left. She would kill herself. An old man with a worn and beaten walking stick would die in fourteen years at the age of ninety-seven. He would die fending off burglars.\nHe didn’t know how he knew it, but he always had. He could sense when and how people would die.\nAt the age of six he had upset his mother (sixty-two, liver disease) when he had told his uncle that he would miss him. The next day he was found dead in the alleyway by his house, having suffered a massive heart attack. Through similar experiences he quickly realised that he was one of a kind, and that when he spoke plainly about people dying, it caused a large amount of upset. He had, in short, learnt to keep his mouth shut.\n\nHe had been able to see the time and cause of death of everyone he ever saw. It wasn’t a number or a sign or anything like that, it was a feeling. He could even see it on people in films or on TV. Which was why it had shocked him, when he was old enough to think about it, that he couldn’t tell when or how he would die. Perhaps he wouldn’t. Perhaps he would live forever.\nHe didn’t take that thought seriously, though. It was just that he had always wondered what it would be like to meet someone and not know.\n\nHe was about fifteen when he had built up the courage to try and do something about it. At school he had been a loner. He had few friends, and he knew that this was his own doing. The idea of getting close to someone and forever being reminded that they would pass away had made him avoid getting close to people. But then a girl in his class was going to die in a house fire. With six weeks to go, he decided to risk talking to her, hoping to build up enough of a rapport to somehow stop it. He had failed, of course. She had died, and he realised that he was, at present at least, powerless to stop it.\n\nAt first he had thought that maybe it was because he was young and inexperienced, but time showed him that no matter what, he would always be powerless.\nBut it did teach him something important. It showed him that getting close to people was not an awful thing. He had known her since he was eight, and had only come to know her for six weeks, and he had loved every minute of it.\n\nWhen he was twenty-five, his sister gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. His sister would live until she was eighty-two. She would die of a stroke. Her daughter would live until she was one-hundred and five! He realised then that she would outlive him, and he felt good knowing that here was someone who he would not have to say goodbye to.\n\nAnd then, at the age of thirty, he fell in love. She had months left until she died in a car crash, and he hated himself for falling for her, but what could he do? She was beautiful and funny, and all the rest of that good stuff. And he loved being around her.\nHe had only tried to change people’s death-date a handful of times and it had always ended in disaster. But now he was determined to stop it. Unfortunately, he had no idea how.\nHe considered trying to make her stay home that night, but he knew it wouldn’t work.\n\nOnce, he saw a homeless man who would die of exposure that night. He sat down and began to speak to him, learning his name and how he came to be in the situation he was. He took the man to a hostel and paid for him to spend the night there. He came back the next night to find that the homeless man had been thrown out for obscene behaviour. He had frozen to death at the back doors of the hostel.\nBecause of this, he was sure only direct action would work. If he had taken the man home, kept him warm, then he probably would have survived that night.\nAnd so he had arranged to be in the car with her on that fateful day.\nShe had insisted on driving, and he sat in the passenger’s seat on edge. He forced himself to laugh and smile, and he made conversation like it was nothing. Like he couldn’t sense her death getting closer by the minute.\nEventually as they drove a fog descended over the road. Visibility was reduced to practically nothing, and he felt as if he might have a heart attack. The very universe seemed to be conspiring against him. With seconds to go, he spotted headlights coming towards them. They were on the wrong side of the road, the driver clearly disorientated.\nTime slowed. He saw her panicking, not reacting quickly enough as the vehicle drew closer and closer. But he was prepared, he had known that something big was going to happen. He had the advantage.\nHe reached over and yanked on the wheel. Not too much, he didn’t want them to roll, but just enough to try and steer them clear.\n\nAnd so he sat at the café and sipped his coffee while watching the people go past. And eventually he stood up, buttoned up his jacked and adjusted his tie. Then he picked up the flowers he was going to leave at her graveside, and left.\n", "He walked along the street, passing strangers every few paces. And with every look, it hit him.\n\nCar accident, 2 years,3months, 10 days, 3 hours, 29 minutes and counting.\n\nDrug overdose, 6 years, 4 months, 13 days, 9 hours, 45 minutes and counting.\n\nSuicide, 3 months, 1 day, 2 hours, 1 minute and counting.\n\nHe saw the death of every person he passed. It was all he could think about, really. \n\nHe wondered if this was how Death felt as it walked among the living.\n\nThe curse had been with him for two years now. In the beginning, he tried to help. Every suicide that popped up, he would try to save. The countdown would add a few days, maybe a few weeks or months, but eventually it would always happen. It turns out, the timeline was not as corruptible as he thought.\n\nAfter 20 people, he stopped trying to help. \n\nBut he realized there were moments to be cherished.\n\nThe first time, he was passing a massive car accident. For most of the people involved, the countdown only read minutes or hours. But there was one pregnant woman involved that lifted his spirits.\n\nOld Age, 40 years, 6 months, 14 days, 5 hours, 6 minutes and counting.\n\nOld Age, 89 years, 11 months, 8 days, 10 hours, 37 minutes and counting.\n\nHe found that in major situations, he could find hope in knowing if someone was going to live. He started seeking it out when the world of death got too much for him.\n\nNot every one’s death was soon. That thought made him smile as he passed a young couple, with similar countdowns.\n\nOld Age, 50 years, 8 months, 26 days, 9 hours, 33 minutes and counting.\n\nOld Age, 50 years, 8 months, 26 days, 9 hours, 34 minutes and counting.\n", "We settled our tabs and exchanged numbers.\n\nI held her, and I kissed her, knowing this is how it would start, and this is how it would end.", "Jason glanced up from his news paper.\n\n*January 14th, 3pm. Accidental drowning at a pool in Oakland.*\n\nHe shook his head. The petite blond laughed to her friends, blissfully unaware of her impending doom. Jason stared a little longer than usual, wondering at her carefree smile.\n\nShe caught him looking.\n\n\"Creep.\" She muttered, then turned to walk away. Her entourage followed.\n\n\"Stay away from water.\" He called after her.\n\nThe group burst into laughing. They'd probably tell stories about the thirty-year old creep with the grey hair and wrinkled face. They say that stress causes premature aging, and Jason Hart knew all about stress.\n\nTwo of the other patrons of the coffee shop would die in the next five years due to heart failure. Likely because of unhealthy diets, lack of exercise and stress. \n\nJason sighed. \n\nThe barista would die during childbirth. That was surprising, it didn't happen to most people anymore. Jason wondered if the baby would live. \n\nThe power didn't work that way. He had to actually see the person to know. The words would just appear in his mind like they had been whispered into his ears.\n\nWhen he was young, the gift had been more vague. Jason would get a kind of sense of doom when he looked at a person. That was before he understood death. When he did, then the world took the place of the feeling.\n\nHe heard it when he looked at everyone.\n\n*Death.* What an awful term.\n\nAs he grew up, his understanding expanded and so did the level of detail of his power. Jason remembered vividly in anatomy class, the first time he heard about a stroke. The teacher was explaining what it did to the brain.\n\n*Death by stroke, 4am while asleep in bed.* The thought appeared as Jason had made eye-contact with his middle aged professor.\n\nThe boy tried to warn the man, but the teacher had only chuckled in reply. It took four months for his prediction to come true. One day class had been cancelled.\n\nThe principal held an assembly and told them all.\n\n\"Mr. Johnson died last night. He went peacefully in his sleep. For the rest of the day, feel free to stop into my office. We'll have counselors on staff to talk with you if you feel the need to discuss your feelings.\"\n\nJason had hardly been listening as the principal spoke. He had been thinking about where he had learned the term that echoed through his mind as he stared at the pudgy administrator. \n\n*December 3rd, suffocation due to auto-erotic asphyxiation, 3pm in his office.*\n\nLife had gone on, but it had worn on Jason greatly. Always knowing what would come. He had kept a calendar and marked the days as his father's motorcycle accident grew ever closer. He cried all night before the day it would occur.\n\nHe watched his father go with tear-stained cheeks. There was no point in trying to stop it. You could never stop it.\n\nThe police came that night. His mother was devastated. By then, Jason had no more tears to cry.\n\nHe looked back down at his newspaper. His mind was elsewhere. Today would be the day.\n\nIt had been a long time coming.\n\nWhen you know so much about the deaths of others, the thoughts regarding your own end start to consume you. For Jason, it had eaten through every fiber of his being. He knew the likelihood of nearly every demise, just to get a better guess as to what his own end would be.\n\n*Cancer, accident, stroke, heart disease.* These were the most common.\n\n*Lightning, meteor, tsunami, ebola.* These were the least.\n\nJason had decided that today would be the day that he wouldn't need to think about death anymore. He wouldn't have to wonder about his own end because he was going to make it happen. The .45 in his glove box would do the trick nicely.\n\nIt was several hours later when he had found just the right spot. It was in a clearing surrounded by tall trees. Jason had stumbled upon it rather by accident, but it would serve just fine.\n\nHe held the gun in his hands.\n\n\"I guess that I get to know my own end after all.\" He whispered. Jason heard the clink as the bullet entered the chamber.\n\nHe put it against his temple.\n\n*February 1st, 1pm. Death by suicide, a bullet to the brain.* He spoke out the words one by one in his head.\n\nIt was his eulogy.\n\nHe pulled the trigger.\n\nThere was no bang. Just the ringing sound of the metal hammer striking the bullet in the chamber. The woods fell silent.\n\nJason began to weep.", "It was always the small things, I could see the seconds left in someone's days, and the smallest thing could change that. I've see clocks go from 10 seconds to twenty years, all by the act of an outstretched hand.\n\nIt took year for me to figure out what it was, when I held my grandmothers hand as she passed, I knew what it was. I could be a hero, I could stop so many deaths.\n\nBut I was wrong.\n\nFor every death I prevent someone else must die. Each and every time I reach to pull someone out of traffic I may be my own life next. I realized that I could see everyone's time of death. \n\nAll but my own.\n\nWhen I realized that I was 18; and here I stand at 21, ready to give up.\n\nIt was one swift jump, and when I was about to hit the water, I saw it.\n\n00:01 til death" ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 4, 5, 11, 14, 22, 27 ]

[ "1415039467", "1415052767", "1415066083", "1415067801", "1415044328", "1415059032", "1415060001", "1415044494", "1415049999", "1415037859", "1415035755", "1415035646", "1415034712" ]

[ "Today I heard the four words that I tread hearing. \"Have a nice day.\" I alwyas hated those words. I hated the fact that someone was giving up thier happiniess for me. I hated the fact that once the day was given it could not be given back. The man that wished me a good day had the look of a martyr someone who thought that they could bare all the hardships of the world as long as others did not have to. Most ended up homeless and dead within a year, but they always seemed to die happy.", "Beep. Beep. \"Have a good one!\" I grin. Twenty-two. \n\nMetal on metal, plastic on plastic. \"Have a great day!\" I give them a polite smile. Twenty-three. \n\nThe shuffling of bags. \"Hope you have a nice day!\" I almost reply, but stop myself. Not now, not now. I nod instead, heart racing because I could have fucked up, I could have fucked up so bad. Twenty-four. \n\nFour o'clock, get in the car. Green lights all the way through. The radio station mentions a car accident that happened a hour ago nearby. *(Two kids, one adult, metal on metal.)* \n\nEnter. Go up the elevator, fifth floor. *(fixed yesterday, paraplegic was stuck in it for two hours.)* Go inside. \n\nShe's on the bed (as always), but she's sleeping. Must have been tiring. Beep. Beep. \n\nI brush the hair out of her face, retrieve her toy penguin (\"Shuffle\"), tuck her in. Kiss her on the forehead. \n\n\"Have a nice day.\"" ]

[ 1, 1 ]

[ "1415067377", "1415068896" ]

[ "The flowers I bought her are in the trash. What the hell? \n\n\"Maria!\" I yell up the stairs angrily.\n\nShe comes down the stairs in a defiant manner.\n\n\"The flowers! Why-\" I started.\n\n\"Because I don't forgive you. What you did is beyond forgiveness,\" Maria shouts, crossing her thin arms.\n\n\"I said I'm sorry. I don't know what else to do now,\" I explain. I really don't.\n\n\"When you did that experiment it hurt me deeply. And now look at you!\" Maria shrieks.\n\nI catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I do have a greenish tinge to me. But that's all part of the job.\n\n\"Keep your voice down,\" I warn, \"the neighbours think I write second-rate fiction under a pseudonym. We don't want them knowing I'm actually a scientist.\"\n\n\"I wouldn't call what you do science,\" Maria says, almost in a whisper, \"I would call it being an intergalactic whore by this point.\" \n\n\"So I've had to learn the hard way a few times how different species mate. Big deal. I'm no worse for the wear and it isn't like I intentionally-\" but I don't finish my sentence because Maria has slapped me across the face. She seems to think my job is easy.", "I knew I messed up.\n\nIt was really easy to figure out, too. She told me. Just as she told me almost every week we’d been together for the past two years. I wasn’t listening to her, I didn’t care about her needs, and something else as well, but I honestly wasn’t paying attention.\n\nSo after this last fight, I was just trying to make it up to her. I bought her favorite flowers. A cool dozen Sunflowers, which, believe me, are not easy to find in Romania. \n\nApparently that wasn’t the right move. She yelled at me again about not listen, and how those weren’t her favorite flowers. I think she might have said something about roses, but I kind of blanked out again. I can’t help it, she’s just so pretty, it’s hard to pay attention sometimes.\n\nAnd then *he* showed up.\n\nOf course there was someone else. Why wouldn’t there be?\n\nTall, dark, handsome. Everything a woman would want. And apparently he’s a really good listener. He should be, with those damn long pointy ears he’s got. Doesn’t talk much, though. Just kind of sits there eyeing you with that stupid grin on his face and his teeth sticking out.\n\nWhat did she say his name was? Norman? No, Nosfur-something? Doesn’t matter now. It’s not like I’ll see either of them again.\n\nDamn vampires.\n", "There they were, their bright young colors now marred and muted, lying wilted next to an ice cream sandwich wrapper and the morning coffee grounds. I didn't let her see that I knew what had happened to them. She most likely thought that I wouldn't even notice, and I couldn't blame her. \n\nI had a thought in that moment. I envisioned me pulling two tickets to anywhere out of my leather satchel and setting them on her pillow. She would find them and have hope that maybe things wouldn't always be the same. Maybe the same restaurants, traffic rides and making ends meet didn't have to be all. She would grab them and run to me without saying a word with a tear in her eye and hug me. I'd quit my job the next day and throw a few things in a suitcase laid out on the bed with 90's music playing on her ipod.\n\nI saw her back to me, as she leaned over the sink scrubbing lunch plastic ware, not even looking up as she said hello. I set my satchel down next to the door, slipped off my shoes and sat on the couch, where I always sat, staring at a black television screen to find the courage.\n ", "I thought I had her this time. \n\nFor weeks I've plotted and schemed. I've filled notebooks as I've observed her patterns. Cutting her brake line was stupid, I know that now. What's the first pedal you press when you start your car? If I had thought about it for a second I would have seen my error. \n\nLikewise with the piano. I must have blown three grand on that. Ha, grand, get it? No, that's dumb. Just like buying a piano, paying rent on a 3rd floor apartment next to her work, getting the damned moving company to schedule the drop-off in the morning, switching out their rope for the one I'd pre-frayed, then delaying them while we waited for her. Of course I pick the one day she's home sick. Now I have to wait for 6 months before their insurance will reimburse me. Imbeciles! I told them to wait! I barely got out of the way myself when it came down.\n\nAnd now this. I spent days picking the right flowers. What woman isn't intrigued by a secret admirer? \"Flowers for my flower.\" I shuddered in revulsion as I wrote the card out. She loves pink - at least half her wardrobe is pink - and Robert, her last boyfriend, has been out of the picture for months now. It was perfect! Poison flowers! One whiff and she'd be done for! \n\nI waited for hours outside her door to hear the thump as she collapsed on the floor. But none came. The next morning, they were out in the trash.\n\nAllergies. Blasted allergies. At least she read the card.", "\"We'll just keep her overnight as a precaution.\" I had bought the bouquet that night and placed it on the nightstand.\n\n\n\"There are a few things that we found in the tests that we need to check out. She'll have to stay for tonight as well.\" The flowers had begun to wilt.\n\n\n\"We're not sure yet, but there is a strong chance...\" The first petals fell.\n\n\nThen came the day with the flashing lights and the frantic voices and the sounding alarms.\n\n\nThe hospital bed is empty now, the sheets freshly made, and the dead and brown flowers that I bought her are in the trash.", "I worked in a lab as a scientist developing new organic plant life that would survive the effects of pesticides. Long days and nights I spent locked away in an airtight, artificial ecosystem where my team and I introduce and simulate real world variables to our specimens in controlled experiments. It had been another long month at work, thinking about the bare earth outside and wishing to get home to my wife, Laura.\n\n\nLaura loved flowers, always had. The day my team and I finally created the perfect chemical-resistant flowers, I knew that I just had to send some to her. Finally she would have something alive in our little yard, something growing that would restore mankind's hope in our planet. I took time and care to select three of the most beautiful blue-violet (as yet unnamed) flowers and sent them to her, each in its own little clay pot. I spent the rest of that productive day working with my team to run further experiments on our other test subjects, then went to punch out for the night. After the long month we had put in, my team and I deserved at least the night off. I didn't bother to call Laura, wanting to surprise her twice in one day; once with the flowers, and again with my homecoming.\n\n\nAs I walked home, my shoes crunched down stale, dry dirt and broke brittle browning grass. I pictured how Laura must have smiled when her flowers arrived. The doorbell ringing, some beaming lad holding up colorful living things that my love hadn't seen in half a decade. Colorful living things that would keep living outside the lab, not just die once exposed to the toxic air and soil.\n\n\nWhen was the last time she had really smiled? When had she last seen something so beautiful?\n\nI had been aware that she had been feeling down for a very long time. First because the plant life had started to die, then was all gone. Next the little critters outside had started to disappear. Every night there would be fewer and fewer chirps of crickets, butterflies would no longer land on flowers, moths had stopped fluttering around buzzing lightbulbs.\n\n\nSmall animals had lived longer, eating food and waste from humans left in trashcans and in gutters along the streets, but before long they died off as well. Larger animals were starting to die, deprived of their natural prey. Even the fish were dying, poisons slowing leaking into groundwater and following rivers into the ocean.\nPeople had begun to die. So far, only the very young and old from drinking toxic water supplies and eating meat that had been fed more chemicals. Laura's parents had died a year ago, her mother almost half a year after her father. I had been away from home often during these times, but I had been with her on the day of her mother's death.\n\nLaura hadn't handled it well, she had started ranting about how we were all going to die and everything I was doing in the lab was hopeless. She had demanded to know why I couldn't just stay with her while the earth was dying, just be with her for the last days. I didn't know how to explain that it was precisely because the planet was dying that I couldn't just hide at home. Not when I could help, not when I could save us. And what had I sent her today? The very things that would save us all. Sure, they were merely flowers, but we could clone bees and they would pollinate them. We could develop food crops with the same method we used to create the flowers. We may have even found a way to reverse the damage we had done to the water.\n\n\nI thought it was all going to be okay.\n\n\nI arrived at our door and became dimly aware of a sense of dread. I didn't know why I should feel dread, the day had been going so well. My wife had been holding beautiful flowers hours before I found myself standing at our open front door.\n\n\nOur open front door which should have been closed as I couldn't see my wife anywhere in our yard. It was bright outside but Laura kept the blinds down, like most people after the life died. I pushed open the door and was greeted by a dark, quiet house. I'd called her name a few times, first keeping my voice cheerful and then growing more fearful as I heard only the reply of silence.\n\n\nShe never left the house anymore back then, so I thought maybe she had gone to sleep early. After all, I hadn't phoned to tell her I was coming home. I made my way to the kitchen and paused over the full garbage can. My face fell, my heart dropped, my blood cooled. Discolored leaves and dry petals poked out of the can, the pots the stems were planted in cracked and in pieces from the force with which Laura had tossed them. The flowers had died and she had thrown them away.\n\n\nHow heartbroken she must have been! I myself had seen many failed experiments. I knew these were the longest living plants my team had produced. I had witnessed the failures and deaths many times. But Laura... She didn't know we were so close, this was only a set back. I made a mental note to tell my team to check the other experiments, and then continued through the kitchen.\n\n\nI called to her again as I opened the bedroom door, pictured myself cheering her up, explaining that it was a small setback. Cooking dinner with her, holding her hand across the table, being with her after so long at work.\n\n\nThe door opened to reveal her sleeping, still form curled on the bed. My mouth turned up in a gentle smile as I made my way to the bed, quietly taking off my shoes and lifting my side of the covers. I had gotten carefully into bed behind her, pulled the covers over myself and wrapped my arm around het waist. I pressed my lips to her ear and whispered her name against cold skin.\n\n\nShe was so cold, she lay so limp where I pulled her against me. I realized she was very still, not even breathing. I pictured the dead brown flowers in the trashcan, the broken clay of the smashed pots. I lay there against her cold body and saw her brittle brown hair, her ribs poked at my arm through her pajamas. I was reminded of her cracked lips the day her mother died and remembered her telling me it was hopeless, heard her begging me to just stay home with her as the world ended.\n\n\nShe had watched the flowers die just as she thought she'd watch the rest of us die. They hadn't given her hope, but confirmed to her our doom. I gripped her waist tighter, crushed her to me as the world swam, and then I finally saw the bottle on the nightstand, empty of sleeping pills.", "A single tear fell on the yellow petals as shock, despair and dismay all registered across the once joyous face of the expectant father. In a moment, the soul had become half a being, ripped and torn in two, and by a child- *no,* he told himself, *my child. It doesn't matter right now, she's gone, I need to...*\n\n\n*She's gone.*\n\n\n*She's GONE.*\n\n\nLegs buckling, the pain hit him full force, and he couldn't even reach his wife's bed. *I need to get up, I need to move. There's someone that needs me. She. She still needs me.*\n\n\nThe orderly found him there, not having moved an inch. \"Sir, you need to get up. Sir? Sir?\" \n\n\nRegistering the older woman, he shakily stood, leaning on her for support until his legs worked again.\n\n\n\n\n* * *\n\n\nThe neo-natal ward would release her in three days, if no further complications surfaced. Only once had the word adoption been mentioned, and he had rejected it immediately. He understood why his wife loved this garden, now. Too often he was busy, or had had plans with friends, or just didn't want to work.\n\n\nHe understood now, the heady smell of the flowers, the rich smooth feel of the tilled earth, the warmth of the sun. He smiled sadly, taking solace and comfort in the labor.\n\n\n* * *\n\n\n\"Dad, what's this one?\"\n\n\n\"That's called a buttercup.\" A rare grin crossed his face as the inquisitive eleven year old helped him with his favorite pastime. He'd done his best, done everything he could so far, and he'd been rewarded with a beautiful young child. \"Here, take this pile to the trash, I'll clean up and start dinner.\" He'd had to learn to cook, to care for another person again. The sleepless nights from over ten years ago were almost gone; the aching never really stops, does it? He'd made room for this, *no, his* new girl, but that pain couldn't ever be forgotten \n\n\n* * *\n\n\n\"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!\" He slammed the car door and sprinted across the lawn, stopping short of the green and yellow pile in front of him.\n\n\"What's it look like.\" She reached forward and pulled at another plant, straining until it reluctantly gave way, roots tearing out of the soil. Throwing it at his feet, she grabbed another. \"When are you going to stop living half a fucking life- I *need* you too, and a hell of a lot more than she does now! *She's gone* and you want to be.\" The bitterness pierced his anger.\n\n\n\"Stop! Just stop- please don't...\"\n\n\n\"Let her go, just let her go. Can't I be enough? Why do I have to be haunted by her too?\"\n\n\nHe could see the tears falling onto her knees, and he reached down, touched her head, stroking the hair that looked so much like... *no!* He knelt down next to her, holding her to him, his tears falling unnoticed. *At least she's still small enough for me to hold.* \"I want to, darling, I want to. I wish I could.\"\n\n\nThey stayed like that for a few minutes, before she stirred. \"Honey, go inside and order a pizza. I'll clean this up.\" She sniffled and then nodded against his chest before rising.\n\n\nHe gathered up the discarded plants in his arms and walked to the side of the house, taking two trips to get all the damage cleared. Lifting the lid, he tossed handfuls in. \"I will. I'm sorry, but I have to. For her. You'll understand that, right?\" Swallowing the tension in his throat, he closed the can, brushed his hands off onto his pants, and went inside." ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 3 ]

[ "1415115349", "1415116014", "1415116977", "1415121855", "1415134394", "1415125114", "1415146949" ]

[ "\"We never needed those fuckers anyway, did we Jammie.\" Jammie looked up at him, all he ever heard when Gary spoke was \"food.\" That was fine, he supposed, Gary had never been much for company; he was much happier when it was just him and his dogs. It didn't bother him when the tsunamis hit the coasts, he was too far inland and it didn't scare him when the earth began to shake, he built this house himself, it would hold just fine. Gary watched the world fall apart until the TV stopped receiving. It didn't take long for the power to go out but Gary was prepared for it all, better than any TV survivalist. Life as a loner on his seventy acre private property in the woods gave him lots of time to develop hobbies; he could hunt, fish, protect himself all he needed to and, honestly, he didn't care what the folks in town thought of him. They pointed when he made his monthly trip to the store, they whispered while he treated himself to chinese food. They blatantly stared when he drove his jeep into and back out of town and Gary did not give a single fuck. He had no reason to see those people or visit that town except to replenish the essentials he didnt care to make for himself. In fact, the only time Gary had been to town aside from shopping had been when Mimi was sick. Mimi was Jammie's older sister and when a bear trap closed on her foot on *his* land Gary had fallen apart; nothing he did would heal her infected cuts. It took a trip to the vet to save her but Mimi was just fine as a tripod. That scumbag vet had tried to convince him the cost of the surgery wasn't worth the life of a dog Mimi's age; Gary had almost hit him.\n\n**Sorry OP, I kinda ran out of vision. I'll keep it up if you want though.** \n", "The smoke of the fire stung my eyes as I carefully placed another log into the ash-filled pit. I smiled at my companions as we stared pensively into the fire. Out small scouting party had covered quite a distance today and those of us not on watch were currently enjoying a small sliver of tranquility around the pit.\n\n\"Music.\"\n\nI had forgotten someone had asked a question. Talking about the world before all this was hard sometimes. But we had grown quite close over the past few months. It was amazing what a little security would do to camaraderie, let alone our fledgling settlement.\n\n\"I miss music the most,\" Darren said.\n\nMy mind drifted towards what might have become of my own favorite musicians. If any of them were still out there somewhere.\n\nThe slosh of liquid in a canteen. The crackle of the fire. A man moving quietly in the woods beyond the clearing. These were the sounds that were familiar to my now. I understood what he meant.\n\n\"What about you Rob?\" Vincent said, not taking his eyes from the coals.\n\nI had time to answer. There was no rush. We were ahead of schedule and had plenty of rations. If we wanted, we could remain here tomorrow, gathering more supplies for the trek. Explore the woods. Hunt for game. Fish in the nearby river. Nothing but the fresh air in our lungs. The occasional bandit was always a threat, of course. But nothing's ever perfect.\n\nI knew what I wanted to say, but the truth was harsh. I should tell them that I miss my friends. Or books. Or television. Or long car rides, or video games, or coffee, or ...\n\n\"Nothing.\"\n\n\"I don't miss it,\" I said staring at a perturbed Vincent. \"I wouldn't want to go back. I prefer things this way.\"\n\nDarren was curious. \"Why?\"\n\n\"Is this really so bad?\" I said stretching out my arms. \"What did you do before? I worked in an office. From 8 to 5 everyday. I went to work, came home, ate dinner and procrastinated starting it all over again the next day. I paid my bills and still had more than I needed. But nothing was ever enough. Nothing was satisfying in that mundane life. Sure it game me security, but at the price of being shackled to a job I could hardly stand? It was the same thing everyday. Seasons changed, politicians changed, the years went on. But everything stayed the same.\"\n\nThey were silent.\n\n\"But out here? I don't know where my next meal's going to come from. I don't know if we're going to find other survivors. I don't know what's forty feet through those trees right in front of us. And everyday I go to sleep exhausted. And every morning the world is reborn. Always another challenge. Never the same thing twice. It's hard work to go hunting, to butcher an animal, and roast it over a spit. And it might not be seasoned, but it still tastes better than any $50 a plate Brazilian steak house I ever knew. This life, if nothing else, it's rewarding.\"\n\nThey were soaking it all in. The fire was starting to die down again. I stood up to grab another log. A man appeared from the edge of the clearing in front of me, signaling for me not to make a noise. Another gesture and I knew I needed to get my gun and start moving.\n\nI turned to my comrades as I reached for my rifle. \n\n\"Come on,\" I whispered. \"Thing's are about to get interesting.\"" ]

[ 1, 1 ]

[ "1415227941", "1415243812" ]

[ "\"Imagine for a moment that you are in a leaky rowboat, stranded in the middle of the Pacific,\" he interrupted emphatically. The faces in the circular room shot towards the man who had just interrupted the President of the United States during the closed-door UN climate council meeting. Such an interruption was unprecedented, but Musk had the kind of intellectual (and monetary) cache that made even the sternest of his critics take notice when he spoke.\n\n\"In the boat with you are your families, your children, your coworkers. People you know and love. But you have a problem,\" he drawled, \"the people around you are starving and have begun to consume the vessel in which they sit.\"\n\n\"Mr. Musk,\" President Romney interrupted peevishly, \"what does this have to do with the subject at hand?\"\n\nMusk folded his hands patiently, metaphors eluded the American president. He continued. \n\n\"You have three choices. The first is to accept your fate, t-that you are confined to the boat and that you will watch all of your friends and family die. The second is to try to find dry land...\"\n\n\"And what's the third option? just out of curiosity.\" Romney bristled. The president sat back in his large chair and crossed his legs.\n\n\"Well, I am.\" Musk stated.\n\nRomney rolled his eyes.\n\n\"I don't think-\"\n\n\"I want to hear what he says, Mitt,\" David Cameron was tired of the bullshitting for the first time in his career, \"There will be no one to re-elect you if your entire electorate is dead, little less the rest of the damn planet. Mr. Musk?\"\n\n\"I've seen problems like these before: nitrogen-depleted soil, holes in the ozone, temperature fluctuations, unstable weather and ocean currents. My people came up with a solution ages ago.\"\n\n\"Your.... *people*?\" the King of Spain prodded cautiously.\n\n\"Yes,\" Musk continued, hoping they thought he was only referring to South Africans, \"and I've been-been trying to get y-you *people* to stop wasting your own time. But it seems to be a habit, so I'll make this as simple as I can for you. If you give me control of NASA, I will fix your problem.\"\n\nThere were audible guffaws from a few of the delegates. \n\n\"Mr. Musk, wherever it is that you claim to be from, it would be a major conflict of interest to allow a privately held company to take over a state run space program.\" Cameron blurted. \n\nMusk removed his phone from his pocket and solemnly placed it on the table. \n\n\"I didn't come here to bargain. That is my offer. A complete solution to climate change in exchange for NASA.\"\n\n\"And what do you get outta this?\" Romney asked, ever the opportunist.\n\n\"I get option number four. I get to go home after having repaired your boat,\" Musk saw a sea of brows furrowed with confusion, \"I'm going to answer the W.O.W. signal so I can hitch a ride home, finally.\"\n\n Romney smirked. As he turned in his chair to make some blistering comment, Musk lifted his phone and said:\n\n\"Siri, remove filter.\"\n\nIn an instant he had shed his human form. In its stead was a large, gray creature whose head resembled something like a praying mantis' and whose shiny thorax gave way to six long, spindly arms. Musk attempted unsuccessfully to adjust the height of his chair to accommodate his larger form during what can only be described as an awkward silence of epic proportions. \n\nDavid Cameron and Angela Merkel shot each other knowing looks. She slid him 50 euro across the table.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "Dr. Singh looked again from chart to the thin, white man sitting on the wrinkled paper of the fire engine examination table. Singh's expression kept morphing from confusion, to disbelief, to awe, while Elon maintained a nonchalant stare at the rotund middle-aged man. Singh puttered his words trying to find the next logical question which escaped his mind. Singh set down the chart and leaned with one arm on the counter that held all the extra-long Popsicle sticks, non-latex gloves, and his Spider-man band-aids.\n\n“I know, bit of a shock I guess” Elon said breaking the pediatrician out of his dubiety. “Well I had you sign the NDA for a reason... plus your record shows that you're one of the best at dealing with these types of cases. Also, I read your superego before I came in the office so I know you won't tell anyone”\n\n“Well... that's uh” Singh now had to deal with not only the fact that Elon Musk wanted him as his personal physician, but that Elon Musk apparently is an extraterrestrial and could read his psyche. “Are you reading my mind, now?”\n\n“No. Do you want me to?”\n\n“NO! And please don't do that again.”\n\nElon closed his eyes nodding in agreement for a moment, “Okay, I understand... so what do you think? can you fill my prescription or not?”\n\nSingh now was more confused than before... How could a multi-millionaire, mind reading, alien not know that Zyrtek is an over the counter medicine. Singh didn't feel like going through this explanation with him and was starting to feel woozy.\n\n“Yes mister Musk... just a let me grab the paper to write the prescription from my nurse... Can I tell her?”\n\n“Oh yeah sure... she's one of the good ones, too.” Elon pulled out his phone and casually started taping out something. He held up the phone and as it played the sound of a light-saber starting up and being waved, he pressed the send button for the little message he just pretyped for his incoming text. “Also, can I have one of the Spider-man stickers?”\n\n“Those are bandaids.”\n\n“Can I have one of the Spider-man bandaids?”", "###***...If?!***\n\nI'm no storyteller, and I haven't been around in this subreddit. But this here is damn near common knowledge, so for the good of your education, gather round, and I will outline the *entirely true* series of events that led to El0n Musketaraxian being stranded on this planet, basically through no fault of his own.\n\n###^^^^^^.\n\n**El0n** was never the brightest of the Musketaraxian clan. Not the fastest, not the strongest. To be perfectly candid, the only thing he really had going for him was his natural camoflauge... A member of the [Fra'as](http://imgs.xkcd.com/comics/fiction_rule_of_thumb.png) had once said to him, \"El0n, you may as well have been born on another planet, because you'd surely fit in better there than you do here.\"\n\nAs he sat at his desk, contemplating the work schedule for another day on planet Earth, his thoughts turned again to those words, rattling around in his head these past few years...\n\nHis reverie was interrupted by a loud *crash* as the new intern, for what seemed like the thousandth time today, broke *something* he was carrying into the kitchen. With a heavy sign, El0n lifted himself out of his chair and walked once more to help Kevin clean up his mess. He knew without looking that the executives were whispering about him, but he couldn't help it - in poor, clumsy Kevin, he saw a reflection of himself. \n\nAs he helped Kevin wipe up spilled coffee from the floor of the break room, his thoughts drifted once more towards home ... And the series of tiny mistakes that led to this moment.\n\n###^^^^^.\n\n\"**Make** sure you get everything off the bottom\", sneered Axi0n, El0n's much larger, older brother, \"You don't want Appa Fra'as to get mad that you dropped his food again, now then would you?\"\n\nEl0n solemnly shook his head in response. It wasn't his fault he'd dropped the tray, Axi0n knew he was scared of Appa Fra'as - That was probably the reason Axi0n was disguised as him in the first place, to sneak up on El0n as a prank. It wasn't El0n's fault he'd ruined the prank by smashing into Axi0n, he was just trying to make sure Appa's food arrived on time. But of course Axi0n wouldn't care about that, he was probably already devising some new and creative way to punish El0n...\n\n###^^^^^.\n\n**Axi0n** sneered as he walked away, kicking the tray once more just out of El0n's reach. On the inside, however, he was fuming. *That was close...* he thought to himself, *It's a good thing El0n didn't arrive on time with the food, or he might have ruined everything like he always does...*\n\nAs soon as he was around the corner, he activated his disguise again and doubled back to the council chambers. This was his chance, if he could get in and out quickly to poison Abba's cup, the blame would fall on El0n, and he could kill two birds with one Krytos, so to speak. *And then, the seat will be mine... All that remains will be to get rid of El0n to solidify my position as a leader who rules with an iron fist, one that didn't even make exceptions for family!* Axi0n smiled in spite of himself. *This is going to be* **fun***!* \n\n###^^^^^.\n\n**Watching** Kevin get picked up by his brother from the windows of his office on the 26th floor, El0n contemplated the nature of family. *What I would give to be more like them,* he thought, *to be part of a family that helps each other, instead of just being a glorified tournament structure where only the best child is loved by the family...*\n\nTurning back towards his now empty office, El0n sat down in one of the comfortable brown armchairs his assistant had purchased for him, made from the skin of a great, lumbering, yet inexplicably peaceful beast the humans had domesticated. *I'm coming for you, brother... and I'm bringing a present.* He pressed a series of buttons on the recessed console in the armrest of his chair, and on command, a large flatscreen smoothly slid up out of the floor, displaying a rocket. But this rocket wasn't like the rest, this rocket wasn't being advertised and talked about in the pages of Wired magazine... Images of the nuclear device at its core weren't adorning the pages of the SpaceX website. No, this rocket was special, a present suitable for the newest member of the Fra'as council. A present suitable for El0n's Musketaraxian family.\n\n^^^More ^^^coming, ^^^just ^^^got ^^^back ^^^to ^^^my ^^^computer. ^^^Had ^^^to ^^^consult ^^^the ^^^official ^^^archives ^^^to ^^^make ^^^sure ^^^I'm ^^^staying ^^^on ^^^track." ]

[ 5, 15, 82 ]

[ "1415451521", "1415444748", "1415435247" ]

[ "\"Dude look at this bush, isn't this an awesome bush?\" A high shrill voice says outside the window. \"This is one awesome bush man, look at these leaves. Feel that bark under your feet. Nothing like it. YO GUYS COME LOOK AT THIS BUSH.\" Another voice screams. Every morning, every day, why couldn't they get over this bush? It's just like every other bush in this town, but they all come here. I just don't understand. \"Like, Oh my god. This bush is like, so fly.\" \"So fly? What is this the 90s? You look like a 90s bird, and smell like it too.\" \"Like, shut your beak frank. We know you like to watch.\" Soon a medley of voices join them, all high pitched and screaming, trying to be louder then the other. I finally get up, my head throbbing as I walk to the window. I fire it open, throwing a shoe into the bush. Screams of terror and panic sound off as all the birds fly away. \"Just another day where birds can talk.\" I say, closing the window. ", "I saw a video the other day about a woman walking around New York for 10 hours being cat-called. I decided to make a parody of myself walking through a forest. Now, objectively, I am a good looking lady. I mean, I get complements all the time and feel like they are honest complements. I am used to crude remarks from men. Noting would prepare me for what happened in the next few hours.\n\nI decided that I didn't have to film a full 10 hours of myself walking through a forest, just an hour would do. I started my walk and once I got a fair distance into the forest, I started the camera, doing my best to stare into it the whole time while walking. Then I heard something I didn't expect...\n\n\"How you doin'?\"\n\nWait. What? Who said that? I shook my head, thinking I was hearing things and kept walking.\n\n\"Wanna come home with me, babe?\"\n\nAlright. Someone was officially messing with me. Who was it?\n\n\"I swear, you are so hot. I could...\"\n\n\"Alright!\" I yelled. \"Whoever that is, I can hear you and have a taser. Back off!\"\n\nNo response. This whole situation was far beyond my level of comfort. I turned off the camera and was about to head back when I saw a bird fly onto the branch of a tree.\n\nIt stared at me and said, \"I'd like to peck you so hard.\"\n\nWhat? A bird? What is going on. \"Uh... excuse me?\" I looked around for some sort of prank video crew or something. \"Hello? Who said that?\"\n\n\"I did, toots.\" The bird said. \n\n\"I don't...\" Just then more birds flew onto the trees around me... all making crude remarks about my appearance. I didn't know what to do. \"What is going on?\"\n\nSuddenly, all of the birds turned into middle-aged men. One of them, who happened to be rather obese with a neckbeard and orange-tinged fingers, said. \"Look. There hasn't been a woman to walk through these parts in some time. Would you be up for a...\" he counted all the others, \"14-some. or something?\"\n\n\"Ew. No! Get away from me, you creep!\"\n\n\"Creep? You think we are creeps? No, no... you got it all wrong. We are Animorphs.\"\n\n\"Animorphs?\"\n\n\"You know. Animorphs. We saved the world a few times from aliens. Got powers from a blue box. Our best friend eats with his feet.\"\n\nAnother one of them raised his hand, \"That's me!\"\n\n\"Shut up, you.\" The fat one continued. \"We are superheroes! You should be honored.\"\n\nI wasn't. I opened my backpack and pulled out my taser. \"Leave now, or else.\"\n\n\"What are you going to do?\"\n\nI shot. They all turned back into birds and screamed as they flew away.\n\n\"I hate animorph catcallers.\"" ]

[ 1, 5 ]

[ "1415460408", "1415450627" ]

[ "No skill at writing and on a phone so bad grammar as well as writing.\n\n\nWell shit, It's happened again. I was riding my bike from McDonald's when I heard a gunshot. It wasn't a normal gunshot though, more like a sci-fi laser. You know, like FZOOM! Now, if you were in this situation you'd get the hell out of there. That's what I did. I went to my house and there was a package for \"Brent Lament\" My name. Of course. Bending down to open the box and see what I got in the mail this time...FSHEEW! It opened. Surprised, I looked at what I saw in the package and what-did-you-know. It was a talking broad salads that called it self Calibur. Immediately I shoved back into the box. It was getting late and this was getting old. At that moment though, I heard a knock at the door. With a loud sigh, I opened it and a person in black suit came in and started talking. \"Mr. Lament, I would like to tell you something. The FBI has been studying you and frankly, we have no other option. You are our last hope-\" *SLAM*\nIt was 3 a.m. and this crap was too much to deal with right now. I went to sleep and in my dream some angel came down and woke up crying. \"That's it! I am done with this BULLSHIT! I am going to live my life my own way. BELIEVE IT!", "\"Tom!\" gasped the hushed voice, \"Tom! Come here!\". Tom wasn't one for drama. \n\nTom sat quietly 1/3 the way from the front of the class, not to close, not too far. He had honed a very specific skill over his life, and that skill was to block any outside distractions. His parents disappeared at a young age, there had been no trace of them for the past 15 years. Just two weeks ago though, on the morning of his 18th birthday, he received a cryptic note in the mail. \n\n Tom, we have missed you so much. It is time you knew the truth.\n Come find us AC-AHIZGZ-4, EH-CIZDEH.\n\n We'll be waiting.\n\n\"We'll be waiting,\" Toms voice echoed his reading. The cryptic message had no return sender, and the mailman had no recollection of posting it. Maybe it was from his parents... maybe after all these years could finally find out what had happened to them....\n\nBut maybe it wasn't. Tom had prior plans of locking himself in his bedroom to study, as he did every weekend, so he scrunched the piece of paper up and threw it in the bin.\n\n\"Tom!\" The voice pleaded from the shadows, more desperate this time. It was Jean, the new red headed girl. She sat a row behind Tom, and four seats across; What could she want? \"What?\" Tom replied curtly, she was definitely taking up study time. \"Tom, there's something not right about the school, and you're the **only one** who can stop it!\" She seemed so sure of herself. Jean was genuinely terrified, her eyes betrayed a lack of sleep, or tears, or both. Her eyes plead silently to Tom as the fear lingered in the air. \n\n\"No I'm not.\" Tom replied, spinning on his heels and walking away.\n\n\"What. **What**! Tom, come back here, hear me out! **Please!**\"\n\n\"Sorry, no.\"\n\nTom walked into his dorm room, he locked the door. Jean whimpered outside as Tom inserted his headphones. *Why do the weird ones always come and find me.* Tom wondered.\n\n", " I'm writing a story. I haven't really though it up yet but I'm writing it. I'll get it down eventually. It's something I've always wanted to do but kept putting it off because I don't think it'll turn out very well and I don't want to invest all that time into it without any payoff. They say you gotta write a few shitty stories before you write a good one. Like anything it takes practice. More practice than I'm willing to do. So I do other things. But nothing crazy. Nothing that takes any real practice. I just play a lot of games and go to parties and whatnot. \n\n\n I went to a party with this chick who played video games. We talked for awhile and actually had a lot in common but I didn't get her number or anything. I dunno, I guess I just figured she probably wouldn't be too into me. I mean really, she was very pretty and I'm pretty average so I just let it be. She started talking to another guy when I went to the bathroom anyway so it's whatever, I didn't really mind. If I had gotten her number I wouldn't really know what to do with it anyway. I'd probably just get really overly excited and screw it all up. That's what usually happens so I usually try to keep to myself. It's one of those things that takes practice. Ya gotta know where to draw the line and how to play the game and I'm no good at it and I don't wanna fuck up a lot and feel bad so I may as well just keep to myself. Maybe someday someone will make me talk to them. They'll like me so much that I won't have to care and they won't ever make me feel like shit. If I just be myself and keep to myself, maybe someone will come up to me and like me and we'll get along and go out for awhile and everything will be great. Yeah that's gotta happen sometime. I just gotta stay cool and wait and maybe it'll happen.", "It was a dark and stormy night, and the phone was ringing. Ian walked down the stairs, taking a long and slow glance and the November rain beating the side of the windows. His hand hesitated and hook before picking up the white wall phone. \n\n\"Hello?\" he answered, trying to stay calm.\nIt was one of his friends, Ryan. \n\n\"Hey, Ian. What happened? You were supposed to go out with us tonight. The Hog's got a special on dark and stormy nights,\"\n\n\"Yeah, you see, that's why I can't go out,\"\n\n\"Why? What's wrong with discounted drinks?\"\n\n\"Nothing— it's the weather,\"\n\n\"What do ya mean? It's not that bad out,\"\n\n\"I know … but it's a dark and stormy night. I can't go to a bar on a dark and stormy night,\"\n\n\"Why not? That where the discounts are,\"\n\n\"It's going to sound crazy,\"\n\n\"Try me,\"\n\n\"All my life, I've had a fear of becoming a main character,\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You know, being that guy the entire universe revolves around and always has to save everyone,\"\n\n\"Um … Ian, the world doesn't work like that,\"\n\n\"I know … but I've never been able to shake this feeling that someday I was going to be meant for something greater. And, ya know, that cuts into your daily schedule, makes you loose money and take time off of work. I really don't have time for that,\"\n\n\"Um … what? That is crazy. I'm driving by your house right now to pick you up,\" Click. \n\nIan put down the phone, not being sure of what to do. Should he heap a rifle or something? Hide in the basement? Run away? Just sit there? In the end, that was what he did. After all, maybe Ryan as right, maybe he was a little crazy …\n\nAnd that was why, three weeks later Ian's face was all over the news and the CIA had an extensive file on him. ", "He ducked beneath the low lying roofs. In this part of town, the buildings were old, and the populace generally lacking sobriety. The alleyways were the main passage of travel for young Josef, only using main streets when absolutely necessary. While not swimming in despair and poverty, his pockets were as deep as the thrones. \n\n\nFamily was on the other side of town, a respectable couple part of the leading guild of merchants, trading silver and managing several counting houses. Josef, like his father was quick minded, good with numbers and generally an exceptional fellow.\n\n\nHowever, he had avoided that his entire life. Being exceptional.\n\n\nWhile others bumbling around the town hawked goods, begged or soldiered around in patrols, he was different. Gangs of children went on pick pocketing, adolescents tripping their way into adulthood, spreading their legs on cold cobblestone. Alleyways always provided a nice dark quiet spot for all other normal residents of the capital.\n\n\nHowever, never before had the capital seen an albino. \n\n\nOr rather, seen an albino survive the king's wrath. And simply, by the nature of his skin, Josef, otherwise leading a mediocre life, avoided *everything*. He cooked his own stews, made his own money through a private counting house that he owned, he did nothing out of place. He was a respectable individual who, unlike others, sought nothing extraordinary than to live a normal life.\n\n\nAs it would happen, he would be thrust into this story irrespective of his own will.\n\n\nIt was the morning and the light which would have flooded his room, was held at bay by the his stone walls. He had no windows in the tiny room that were his living quarters, on the third floor of his counting house and secretly stashed behind his office. Striking a match, he lit the room with a dull yellow light, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dimly engaging environment. Aside from his bed, he allowed himself a small bookshelf with his journals and recordings of events of notice or persons that would be watched. His clothing lay in a wooden trunk, seemingly ordinary, but filled with records and scrolls far more valuable than the king's crown.\n\n\nIn that chest, lay his mask, dawned and painted white. It covered his entire head and would have been more appropriately labelled a helmet, save the designs that were drawn onto it.\n\n\nAgainst the bright white mask's base colour, a dull orange and bright red emblem flanked the sides, depicting lions on both sides. On the front, black streaks ran from the forehead down to the chin in one ugly stripe, one in across. \n\n\nThis was his identity, his true face to the world. Or if the world was his trusted friend and steward, that is.\n\n\nJosef began his morning ritual. A brief prayer to the 4 Gods, 17 Monks of Sacrilege and a Word of Damnation to the Traitorous 3. Afterwords, he perfumed himself liberally with a peppermint lime spray after washing in a small basin at the end of his bed. \n\n\nThen, collecting himself, he dressed himself in a plain red tunic and orange jacket, wearing a durable but smooth trousers, with one leg of the trousers white and the other black. \n\n\nIt was approximately half past the first hour of business. He opened the door to his passage to his office. A few strides and his was to the piece of artwork that the passage hide behind. The piece of art itself was a facade, a cheap replication of a masterpiece from the *ancien* Thuros. \n\n\nDelicately placing the painting as if it wasn't moved, he struck up another match, to light the inside of his safe. Yes, within his safe, was a passage to his quarters.\n\n\nHe undid the lock from within, a lengthy process, but worthwhile for the security and privacy that it entitled him. After 20 minutes, he emerged from finally from his safe, to meet the day. \n\n\nStanding in front of his desk was none other than his trusted steward, dressed in a fine black silk suit with a cravate of white. \n\n\n\"Good morning Baron Winston Ver Ballig. We have a busy day in front of us. A number of missing coins, several floating bodies, and the king's rebuke. Whenever you are ready m'lord.\" His flat speech was quick and sharp.\n\n\n\"Good morning my friend Jasper. Let us begin.\" A wide grin crossed his face.\n\n\nAfter all, who said the character had be the good guy?", "His name was Bill. So he changed it to Bartleby. \n\nThat had happened on Friday, at 10:32am. The lawyer and judge who presided over the proceedings were silent, efficient, and sticklers for properly executed paperwork. The sound of a staple being applied to a stack of forms was the final punctuation on the ceremony. The judge had been a woman. The lawyer was currently a woman. Bartleby had designs on being a woman. But he found heels impractical for playing tennis, and didn't *think* he looked good in leather pants. About this, he was very wrong.\n\n**Sunday, 3:12PM**\nWhen young men hefting books by Gogol and wearing beards with suspenders invaded his neighborhood coffee shops, Bartleby changed his name back to Bill, legally. He also stopped drinking coffee, for fear he would meet the love of his life. Her name was Jillian. While Bartelby was sure suspenders should not be worn on beards, he was not about to tell *her* that. This was for fear she would die of rare cancer, or in a random carjacking. \n\n**Monday, 9PM**\nHaving answered his cell phone, Bartleby (for that was the name in his heart, if not on his lips) discovered an intruder was calling him from the upstairs bedroom of his house. As the creeper quietly made his way down the steps, four of five stairs croaked like a different breed of frog. The volume of each throaty brawp shook the house. Bartleby, in a leisurely way, went to his kitchen and opened the junk drawer. There, he found and inflated a large, olive green balloon. When Bartleby popped the balloon, the psycho killer's feet turned into banana peels, which were effective for walking down marble stairs with no grip tape on them. The back of the intruder's head soundly missed the large coat hook in the front hallway, and so he lived, and went on to become a fine small-town librarian.\n\n**Wednesday, 3:43AM**\nJillian revealed herself to be fond of musical theater, motorbikes, and any word with an Anglican spelling, particularly \"theater\". When Bartleby finally spoke to her as they both bought motor oil, she turned herself into helium, and tickled the back of his throat.\n\nFriday 3:33PM\n\nThe Ministry announced there would be no weekend, for tax reasons. Bartleby and Jillian canceled their order for a swan boat at the park, went to work, and, on the way, burned their journals while they drove. Bartleby's lunch was stolen as he fanned the flames. Jillian broke her wrist while honking her horn, earning her a citation. For bravery.\n\nSaturday and Sunday, 12:34pm and 5:32pm, respectively.\n\nHaving been neglected by the Ministry, Saturday changed his name to Bartleby, and Sunday changed *her* name to Jillian. Of Bill, there was never any sign, but it is postulated that he moved to Austin, Texas, where he had no film career to speak of.", "\"What?\" The old man stroked his long white beard in disbelief.\n\n\"I asked if there are any hot girls in it for me\" said Rick as he put his legs on his desk.\n\nThe old man frowned \"Well there is this tsundere w..\"\n\n\"No thanks\" Rick interrupted him. \"I want one that would do ANYTHING for me. Next please\"\n\n\"But the world needs you\" The old man said\n\n\"NEXT!!\"\n\nThe old man left the room and a young woman entered the room. *Perhaps this one will be better* Rick thought.\n\n\"Are there any hot girls in it for me?\"\n\n", "Listen here, i'll only tell you once.\n\nI'm special, but not in a good way.\n\nEveryday something that you only see on T.V happens to me.\n\nBrightly colored letters, shady mails for a \"Vacation\", a \"job\" as a night guard at a museum.\n\nI have to dig through this shit everyday to continue on with my life.\n\nBut now i'm different.\n\nThey call me an opportunist, i call myself an entrepreneur.\n\nPeople want the thrill of a lifetime? They come to me.\n\nWant to go on a bank heist? I got a suspicious mail for you.\n\nTime traveling? I got a few friends.\n\nWant to become the protagonist of some cheesy anime? I got a few high school enrollment letters from Japan.\n\nEveryday is an opportunity, but not for me. For you.\n", "Bruce Brad Bayne was a nerd, so he knew when something wasn't right when he received a letter from a white bunny in a hurry, inviting him to a very *special* school. He thought it to be best to throw it away, but it would always find some annoying way back to him.\n\nHis mother had disappeared under mysterious circumstances when he was just a little boy and her case has been cold for years. He had never met his father so he lived with his aunt and uncle for most of his life and with his vicious cousin Victor Villain. Victor always wanted to be the best at everything, proving his superiority by bullying his skinny, inconspicuous cousin. So Bruce had let him. He didn't want it all to evolve into a cheesy life-long rivalry that would have to end in Bruce overcoming his cousin in a dramatic climax during a rainstorm. His lack of interest caused Victor to lose any point in bullying him and the two actually became good buddies.\n\nSometimes he could hear the letter call for him, that in the special school he would learn something unbelievable about himself that would change his entire life. It would also offer him hints to where his mothers has been gone and who his real father was, but after Bruce had gone through years in therapy, he knew to let it go.\n\nAnother time, after having been struck by lightning while he was being bitten by a radioactive vampire-alien during puberty, he received a call from an unknown number, so he decided to ignore it.\n\nLife as an ordinary teenager was hard enough, but it was the only life Bruce ever wanted. He didn't need to save the world or to become the worlds most powerful ninja-wizard-pirate to be happy. His wallflower friends might have jumped at every oppurtunity to be a hero, but he only wanted to be like the others, hang out with friends, have a nice job and one day, who knows, start a family.", "\"Hey, Rob! I was wondering if you had any plans tonight? I heard that new seafood restaurant across town is opening-\"\n\n\"Sorry, Denise, but I have something to do, and I don't have time.\"\n\n\"Maybe next week?\"\n\n\"How about never?\"\n\n\"Okay...\"\n\n*******\n\n\"Rob, get in the car *now*!\"\n\n\"Wha- why?\"\n\n\"No time to explain, just-\"\n\n\"I'm good, thanks.\"\n\n\"But-\"\n\n\"We're done here.\"\n\n******\n\n\"Ah, Robert. A pleasure to finally meet. We've been looking for you for a *very* long time...\"\n\n\"Not interested.\"\n\n\"You see, Robert, I have-\"\n\n\"Don't care.\"\n\n\"You walk out that office, and you girlfriend gets it.\"\n\n\"Eh, I didn't like Denise that much anyway.\"\n\n*******\n\n\"Hey, Robby! The gang and I were just about to check out the old Indian burial ground for our annual orgy!\"\n\n\"Yeah, I'll stay home tonight.\"\n\n\"How come, man? We've been doing this for *years*!\"\n\n\"I've just got a bad feeling about this year. Oh, and, if you get the chance, invest in a better home security system.\"\n\n******\n\n*Good morning, Agent 512. If you are receiving this message, the Organization is-*\n\n\"Wrong number.\"\n\n******\n\n\"Guten tag, FutureAmerikaner! Vhere is zeh President kurrently residing?\"\n\n\"The White House, I guess? Now scram, I'm busy.\"\n\n\"Danke.\"\n\n*******\n\n\"N-notice me, senpai!\"\n\n\"Get your ass away from my face, or else I yell rape.\"", "Today was going so well too.\n\nIt was your typical wednesday and Gordon was on his way home from skipping school. Not that he was a bad student but the new transfer student had asked him to meet after school and gauging from his heavy accent and aloof personality that what he had to say wasn't anything he'd like to here.\n\nAs Gordon was taking in the perfect weather on his way home he couldn't help but notice the three thugs across the street picking on a fellow classmate. \n\nTypical.\n\nSaid classmate had never missed a day of school in his life and here he was being bullied by three guys that Gordon felt could easily take if he tried. The whole situation felt lazy and quickly thrown together.\n\nGordon pulled out his phone and called the police and told them their was a robbery on the street he was on than quickly jumped a fence and took a new route home.\n\nAfter a rather peaceful walk Gordon arrived home.\n\nand there he was.\n\nGordon wasn't greeted by his foster parents but by an older gentleman with a long beard and dressed in a garb from a culture that Gordon couldn't put his finger on.\n\n'Hello my lord.\" said the man who know doubt was here to teach me some mystical magic or kung fu.\n\nSo it seems Im the son of some old king from another dimension where magic is real I was spirited away as a kid to protect me. Since its my destiny to save said world from a great evil.\n\nI was about to tell the old man to fuck himself when it hit me. What would be the first thing a protagonist would do in a situation like this?\n\nHe would deny his fate and say all he wanted was a normal life before ultimately taking responsibility and gave in to whatever stupid destiny he had.\n\nShit.\n\nGordon was stuck in a conundrum. Its not that he wanted a normal life so much that he didn't want to live in such a stupid cliche.\n\nSuddenly an idea popped in his head it was a long shot but it was his only choice.\n\nGordon breathed in deeply and readied his reply.\n\n\"Yeah that sounds great.\" Gordon said hoping the enthusiasm in his voice would hide his disdain.\n\n\"You must understand the fate of... wait what.\" the old man said in mild disbelieve.\n\n\"Are you kidding I get to be king and magic powers thats so freakin cool.\"\n\n\"I... um.\" The old man looked like he was struggling to think of something to say.\n\n\"I bet I meat a super hot warrior girl who's weghts 80lbs but can overpower giants, oh man I can't wait.\"\n\nTheir was a long silence every second felt like a millennium and finally the old man spoke.\n\n\"I think theres been a mistake.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" Gordon desperately tried to hide his smile as he spoke.\n\n\"Yeah... I think... I think Ill just let myself out.\"\n\n\"Ok have a nice day.\" said Gordon as he opened the door.\n\n\"Yeah... you to.\" and with that the old man left.\n\nAs soon as Gordon shut the door he collapsed against it in relief another disaster averted. He knew this wasn't going to be the last prophecy he was apart of but he will take that challenge when it comes. But today he was free from mediocrity.\n", "“Johnny is so much more interesting than Mary. You're right, my name is Mary. One thing that was learned growing up is that you never say the word I. Fuck, just said it. Anywho. The center of attention is one thing Mary avoids. She hates it, makes her feel self conscious. Yes, she understands its supposed to be her story, and yes she can feel you. Anywho, she lives in a black and white world but has pink hair. The hair is not that big of a deal. Can you really base your main character on the fact that she can jump on light poles and has different hair. Thats a bad start to story isn't it. Anywho, she can feel you, could of just said blah blah blah and you would have stopped reading. She would consider that rude. She is a loner and prone to anxiety but not rude, ya know.” \n\nAmanda and Johnny waited patiently for her outside the bathroom. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. He hated when Mary took this long. “I bet she is talking to herself in the stall again. She thinks I dont notice. Poor girl has so much anxiety. She thinks the world is watching her.” Amanda nodded her head. “She should see a psychologist.”\n\nMary heard them outside. “Oh you're back again, they were much more interesting than me huh. Let me tell you about the two of them. Johnny is a smart dude who could solve any problem. Yes any problem. Don't look at me like that. It's true, this is a character introduction. So just sit there and listen. He is so much more interesting than a girl who is in a stall, huh. Its alot of pressure, thousand want to claw their way into your life, sucks huh. Imagine, if you sat on a toilet and a bunch of people stuck around to see if anything interesting happened. Sick huh, yet you are still…... here …….reading. Anywho, Amanda is pretty cool too, much more interesting than me. Did you know she is from another world, yup, totally an alien. Why don't you check out what they are up to huh?”\n\nAmanda finally had enough “lets just go, she is not coming out again. We are going to have to call the teacher.” Johnny frowned in disapproval. “She will never get over her anxiety that way, she needs to suck it up and go to class” Amanda put her hand over his mouth. “Shhhhh, we have to be supportive remember.”\n\nMary flushed the toilet. “A story about my own anxiety, What a dumb story huh. Please, like she didnt seen this coming a mile away. Look, Mary does not need help. She is happy in her own world. No story here today.” She yawned but and refused to get off of the toilet. \nJohnny knocked on the door. “Come out Mary, you can't hide in the bathroom forever.” \n\nMary said “Bullshit, she is not coming out.” Amanda frowned. “You called it, she is talking in third person again”.\n\nMary was desperate. This is the third time the writing switched to her.. She wanted this to be downvoted in reddit. To make the story invisible to most readers. “Omg, you people are still reading about Mary on the damn toilet. Fine, I know where this is going. Johnny already freaking said OUT LOUD “she needs to get over the anxiety.” That’s it isn't it, the problem I gotta overcome. She knows you people want whats best for her. You want to see her overcome anxiety. Tell ya what. Lets just skip all that and call it a day. You know what she really wants, she wants to be left alone. That makes her happy. You have that ability, just hit that down vote button and this all goes away. Anxiety solved. ” She waited silently hoping this would be downvoted. “Come on people work with me. Make me invisible again.”\n", "First prompt. Dunno why I wrote this at 12AM. Oh well. Guess the shows and win points! (not really) \n\nI don't even know what I've written. I'm not even sorry.\n\n_____\n\nI swear, it's like the damn universe wants me to become a main character! I don't want to though, I'd much rather take the back seat when it comes to things like this. Even so, the universe spams me with so much weird stuff, it's hard to not give up and just go with the universe's plans. \n\nI decided to limit my conversations with the guy sitting next to me. He was a genius but kept on playing games in class so the teacher kept on stealing his handhelds but he always had more on hand. He suddenly started wearing a leather collar. Kinky. Not into that though, but it seems like our teacher is. She always teaches the class while wearing a spiked collar. Maybe the two were close to each other somehow...\n\nThe next day was pretty weird too. A girl suddenly transferred in from another school, in the middle of the semester. Pretty weird, right? It wasn't nearly as weird as her class introduction. She said that she hated normal people and would rather prefer to be in the company of aliens, espers, and time travellers. This girl is nuts. She was pretty cute too with a yellow bow in her long brown hair. The teacher told me to move to the empty seat in our classroom, at the back near the window, so the girl could take the chair I was sitting in. I told him that she could take that seat instead.\n\nDuring lunch that day, some dude from the class next door burst in, asking if people wanted to join his club. Dude was wearing swimming goggles and a weird red hat, so no thanks.\n\nSome rumours popped up regarding the resident rich girl and her butler. I tried to talk to the heiress, but decided against to. Apparently her butler was seriously into crossdressing. He was really convincing too. I almost believed he was a girl when I saw him wear a cheongsam. Dude had legs! I avoided the two before I started thinking too much about the butler.\n\nNext week got a bit weirder than usual.\n\nI was walking home, following the river, when suddenly an old man floated by. I grabbed my phone and started to call emergency services, when I saw that his chest opened up, and inside of him was a baby with green hair. I closed my phone, gave him a small push so he would continue floating, and walked away again.\n\nA friend of mine stopped coming to school. Some students say he went missing a few days ago and no one has seen him ever since. They asked his parents and the the last they saw of him was when he left his house to get his laptop repaired. I wonder where he went? Maybe he got sucked into a portal into another dimension. That could never happen though.\n\nI was at school during the weekend, and there were people fighting in the baseball field. There were sparks and explosions everywhere. One guy was wearing blue and the other red. Blue was holding a red spear and Red was holding two large knives. They looked really awesome, but scary at the same time. So I ran in the opposite direction immediately. On Monday huge gaping holes were scattered across the entire field.\n\nThe universe was bombing me with more dangerous situations now. That last one might have gotten me killed if I didn't run away at first.\n\nI should probably just stay home and sign up for the beta of that new virtual reality RPG that's been announced. The publisher says it's so awesome you'll never want to leave until you've beat the game. \n\nYup, that's what I'll do.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "**I Am NPC**\n\nI feel blessed to live in a pretty nondescript town. There’s a weapons shop, armor shop, tavern, side-quest alley and mini-game market down by the river. We’re not too close to the bandits in the East or the royal capital in the North. All in all, the winters are pretty mild, the summers aren’t too hot and the day/night cycle is a good ten minutes, which takes some adjusting, but at least we’re not stuck in permanent day or permanent night unless a Main Character comes along and decides to change it. I hate the god-awful warp/save spot set in the square in the middle of town. It looks fucking terrible, to be honest, all bright green and pulsing out of the sky day and night. I can’t even begin to imagine how much energy it takes to maintain it. Still, it’s good for tourism and cuts down on the amount of horses in town, which keeps the streets noticeably clear of giant piles of horse turds, so at least there’s that.\n\nSome of them seem pretty nice. I’ve met a few Mike A.’s who were decent folks and while I have met a number of dickbag111’s and sexywifequeen452’s who rubbed me the wrong way, I’ve generally done a good bit of trade here and I wouldn’t have it any other way.\n\nI like wearing a long, forest green cloak with a hood. It suits me. I don’t like it when people see my eyes. That’s how they always figure out that I’m not actually like the others, with their scripted conversation trees and penchant for constantly referring to Main Characters by their names over and over again in a way that any normal person would obviously not do. NPC’s don’t have violet eyes, you know. It’s just not...done. \n\nStill, I find myself doing a good turn of business, and as long as their gold’s good (there’s really no such thing as fake gold here, which is nice), I don’t mind. I do business out of an abandoned store that was forgotten and has to be entered through an invisible gap in the wall. It’s janky, but it’s mine, and the difficulty finding it means that I don’t get any Level 1 morons endlessly browsing through my wares with a chip on their shoulders and nothing in their pockets but hot air.\n\nApparently, there used to only be one Original Main Character in this world. But when he (or she, but most people always assume it’s a dude- typical) disappeared mysteriously halfway through the Chosen One’s Quest to Rid the World of Darkness, suddenly it became possible for anyone and their little sister to join the world and attempt to continue where the Original Main Character let off. Now, I don’t know about you, but the way these things tend to go, it’s almost like the Quest is an excuse for the Gods of this world to basically make things as fucking dark and depressing as possible. Most people are stuck halfway through the original objective before they start becoming distracted by mini-games and side-quests. If I had a piece of gold for every time I’ve seen a would-be Main Character stumble out of the mini-casino mini-game to the save point after ten hours of rolling the slots, I’d be rich.\n\nWell, ok, I’m already rich, but you know what I mean.\n\nWhen they come to my shop, they’re looking for something a little...different. I’m happy to give them what they want...for a price. Sure, I don’t have to pay rent, but a player’s got to eat, you know? \n\nMost Main Characters eventually get disillusioned with the Quest. I can’t blame ‘em. Finding out that every step is getting you closer and closer to The End is fucking depressing, if you ask me. Sometimes I wish I could be like Colonel Bobbert in the pub with his three dialogue responses, thinking only of his ale, pretty women, and joking about what’s in your pocket, but I’m not.\n\nSo I offer them side quests. Ones that you can’t find anywhere else. They keep changing, too. It makes them feel special, like they’re the real Chosen One.\n\nThey don’t know what’s in the cellar, and I’m not about to tell them.\n\nThey can have it, you know? The glory, the fame. I just want some money to drink and gamble until I can’t see that stupid beacon turning the sky a sickly green, even in the middle of the fucking day.\n\nSometimes I’ll travel. I don’t need to use the warp point. Those came...after things changed. But I can’t stay too long in any one place, because that gets me recognized by some of the less dimwitted NPCs and I can’t stand them and their lectures and accusations of laziness. So I move on, and I hide in my secret shop and I hoard and spend my gold. I’m no hero, but then again, who says I have to be?\n\nI never asked to be what I am. But I can sure as hell choose what I want to be.", "“Oh my God,” Frankie said, “they’re in the building.”\n\n“Who is?” I asked. The office Christmas party had just started. I enjoyed mingling with people from other departments, people I saw all the time but never really got a chance to know. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, except Frankie, who was covered in sweat all of the sudden, barging into the conference room where me and Shelly were talking. \n\n“Armed gunmen. They’re trying to hack the computer system. They’re trying to transfer all of the company’s funds to an off shore bank account! They’ve got a German guy, the black computer wizard, and about five or six personality-less goons. Plus they’ve got the balding guy that walks with a cane, who speaks like he’s from the 1800’s.”\n\n“Jesus,” I said. “Let’s all find a place to hide and contact the authorities.”\n\n“I know you have a mysterious background in the military. Maybe you could do something.”\n\n“Well, that’s just ridiculous. They have machine guns. That’s how people get killed.”\n\n“Please don’t do it,” Shelly and Frankie begged me. “Please don’t go out there to fight the terrorists. It’s do dangerous! You’re a loose cannon!”\n\n“Didn’t you hear what I just said?” I’m not.\n\n“Oh God, there’s nothing we can say to stop you, is there? You’re a wild spirit. You’re totally fearless. Goddamn you, you beautiful bastard, you’re a hero. Crazy, but a hero,” Frankie said. “You’ll have to fall back on the skills you picked up in the army, skills you haven’t used in years. And they’ve personally taken the girl you have a crush on hostage! It’s diabolical!”\n\n“God fucking damnit,” I said, running towards the nearest stairwell as the terrorist burst into the party and shot their guns at the ceiling. The aging white man with the cane started going off on a diatribe to all the horrified Christmas partiers.\n\nI had joined the army as an IT guy, but somehow I always ended up saving a downed helicopter, defeating the enemy general in hand to hand combat, rescuing kittens from burning buildings. I just wanted to work on computers. After that, I came home a mysterious scientist informed me that I was starting to show signs of evolution, the next stage in human development, super powers, if you will. I ignored him and found the most boring, mundane job possible. I liked living a boring life. I was thoroughly enjoying the most boring office Christmas party in the world. God fucking damnit.\n\nA terrorist stood in the stairwell. We just looked at each other. He walked very slowly towards me, trying to get me to fist fight him despite the machine gun. He tried to punch me in a slow, overly dramatic way. I just stood there, my hands in the air. \"I surrender.\"\n\n“Come on, guy,” he muttered. “At least take my walkie-talkie. I mean punch me or something. You need to take the gun and walkie talkie so you can have dramatic conversations with Dr. Nefarious.”\n\nI sighed, gave him a light punch. He let out a Wilhelm scream and tossed himself down the stairs. I picked up the walkie-talkie and the gun. \n\n“Ah, Mr. Taylor,” Dr. Diabolical said on the other end of the radio. “You have come to interfere with our plans. We are the league of evil, and you cannot hope to destroy us. We will unleash financial chaos into the world, a world which has become corrupt . We are doing society a service. We will rebuild the world, a beautiful, new world of evil, and you can’t possibly hope to stop us.”\n\nI sighed again, and rubbed my temples. \n", "Scott shuffled down the hall; the final bell had rung, and it was time to get out of dodge.\n\nAnd, each and every day, what a time *that* was...\n\n\"Hey, Scotty!\" Ronald Verrater slapped Scott on the shoulder. \"We on for fencing practice, tomorrow?\"\n\nScott shook his head, pushing forward and leaving Ronald behind.\n\nPoor Ronald. He was a nice enough guy- ambitious, but friendly. He was the kind of guy that might cheat a little in a tournament, but still feel bad about it later. 'Conflicted', that was the word.\n\nThat was one of about fifty reasons Scott had to quit the fencing club. He didn't need some old friendly rival like Ronald to be his friend, then later get all angsty and anti-villainous, and then have to be taken down in some gut-wrenching, action-packed, emotionally climactic duel on a rooftop, somewhere.\n\nScott didn't need that kind of drama.\n\nHell, it wasn't like the universe was being very subtle this time, either. 'Verrater' even meant 'traitor' in German. This was the same reason Scott had to legally change his last name a few weeks ago. \n\n'Scott Zweihändige' was just a little too... 'protagonist-ey'. He picked 'Bore' as a name, instead.\n\nNo one could be a main character with a name like *that*.\n\nIt also helped that he gave up playing with swords. Heroes prefer swords...\n\n\"Ooh, Scott!\" A thin, muscular girl in a tank top tapped his shoulder as he passed her, \"my dad's going to these really cool ruins next week, and he says I can invite a friend! I thought, well, since these ruins are dedicated to the Ares star constellation, and *you're* an Ares, an' all, it'd be kinda neat to-\"\n\n\"No thanks,\" Scott growled. \"Not interested in absorbing the freaky ancient powers-slash-memories-slash-demons-slash-chili recipes of whatever ass-end civilization have you. But thanks all the same...\"\n\nHe trudge warily on, passing by another girl, this one a little shirking violet, bangs covering her eyes, holding her books up protectively against her chest. She walked beside him, her skittish eyes wide:\n\n\"S-Scott? I... just want you to know... that if anything happens to me... like, anything at all, you should try to *follow your heart*...\"\n\nShe tried handing him a weird-looking necklace: a bunch of squiggly lines surrounding a heart-symbol. Scott shook his head:\n\n\"Nope. But you be sure to enjoy being kidnapped, or possessed, or whatever...\"\n\nTons of others swarmed him, all of them offering things like a trip to their cabin in the woods (cute), or asking his opinion on these weird photographs that apparently show him mining for coal in ancient Egypt (nice touch), or loudly bemoaning the fact that they need help with some super-easy-sounding problem that *no one else* in the whole world will help them with (nice try).\n\nScott managed to make it to the library, sighing. He shuffled down the stacks until he found Janette. She was leaning over a table, absently studying a book, and she looked up at him and gave him a wan smile:\n\n\"Rough day?\" She asked.\n\n\"You got no idea,\" he grumbled. \"Everyone and their mother's trying to get me in on 'the adventure'. Universe just won't take a hint, will it?\" He cocked his head at the book: \"find anything else helpful in there?\"\n\nJanette shook her head: \"No, it looks like most of the obvious plots the world can throw at you have been played out, so I think you're pretty much in the clear!\"\n\nScott smiled warmly, and Janette reciprocated.\n\n\"Listen, Jan,\" he said: \"I can't thank you enough, for helping me these past few weeks...\"\n\n\"No problem!\" She said. \"If there's anything I hate, it's dumb cliches and hackneyed situations!\"\n\nThe library doors opened, and men in dark suits began moving down the stacks. When they caught sight of Janette they quickened their pace:\n\n\"That one!\" One of the men cried, \"it's the *Tropebreaker*!\"\n\n\"And the other must be her apprentice!\"\n\n\"The one who changed his last name to 'Bore'. The one who helps 'bore' holes in the Tropes!\"\n\n\"The *Tropeborer*! We have you, now!\"\n\nScott held up his hands, sighing, and he shook his head:\n\n\"Nah, guys: you all got me confused with someone-\"\n\nJanette produced a wand from her backpack and created a swirling portal of light in the air.\n\n\"...else...\" Scott's voice trailed off.\n\n\"Come on, Scott! It's the Meta Police! They've *found* us!\" Janette disappeared into the vortex, leaving Scott to alternate his stunned gaze between the approaching men, and his mysterious escape route. He rolled his eyes, sighing:\n\n\"Fuck,\" he grumbled.\n" ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 5, 5, 14, 20, 41, 48, 127, 799 ]

[ "1415473825", "1415476393", "1415476822", "1415477152", "1415469690", "1415484692", "1415483245", "1415491852", "1415471832", "1415479328", "1415472647", "1415465015", "1415463631", "1415472963", "1415465648", "1415464577" ]

[ "People went on talkin' like they always did, payin' no attention to what lives had been rung up and down before them. “Don't forget, you effect the next one,” They'd teach us that in school “leave him a good message. Leave him good memories.” We all knew how it worked by the time we were five. For some that's when it started, others it came later. I remember grown' up, waiting, but not knowing when my time would come. It did though, a fascinating figure of glade horizon in your dreams, slipping shapes beyond a world where you could grasp at them with gentle hands on a cold morning. Certain ones you could hold onto, really tangle up and then they were yours. Months I spent chasing a memory. The one that I hold up tight. \n\nLife, comin' at me like a sunbeam. Against the coarse ground and through wheat fields out onto the old pastures where his mother used to wait for him on long afternoon walks. Billy was this memory. Kinda boy who would ride an old boat of a truck down to the pike, to watch the sunrise off the edge of town and shut away that long night. He was younger in this memory. One of the few I kept. A sudden change in his place brought down upon him the appearance of magnitude, I still wonder what. Forced out some how, but still, even with my runn'n after it I am unable to obtain what ever blackness caused his memories to change. \n\t\nOut on the old ropes of the tire swing is where he would stand, groping at the reins of the childhood toy. Billy could feel all those years of use in its core. Rough against his palm, a flavor to it the years have given the twine. A patch here and there that was loose and came undone at a twist. Through his nails he passed disconnected strings and ran them through fingertips. Feeling, ever inch an old past time. Out on horizon there she would have stood. Looking back at him, watching as he came and went on the crest of the hill, swinging in the old tree. A hand would have been over her face then, making it a shadow at a distance. Even then he would have felt her smile. There was trust. Sun down came too fast now, there wasn't time enough to wait for her and Billy knew that. Out in the meadows the sun beam walks and river trickle past the pike would have set all of his world a nice place of pleasure.\n \t\nI was born at the wrong time, a lot of us boys caught the memories of those we had lost back in the war. By the time we were all eighteen we didn't know what to do 'cept hold on to those good ones. They had to start teaching it all over again. The only thing I’m glad to say is the next one won't get these. Sometimes though, I feel someone did this just so we wouldn't ever want to do a war again. Billy was a strong boy, with good memories, but the ones he hated are some of my worst. What good is there in a man where a world can change him in an instant? Where Heaven comes too early to let you get fall away to hell. Though I did not come out the worse, since my memories stopped on my twentieth birthday. The ones that had I caught were there to stay. The leeches were was well, the dark ones that sucked out of me what only a man can take. I am still not as worse as some of the ones who made it out, though I have heard that you get good memories still after. Where as mine started with fire and ended in ash. ", "Imagine if you could live through being born. I mean I know everyone lives through being born but I was there I was just there I…. I ... ok I suppose i'm not making very much sense i'm in a bit of shock. I just came out of some girls womb, a young girl sixteen or so it was awful, no wonder the first thing babies do is cry. I did, more than I would like to admit. I was so confused so tired. Am so confused and tired actually. And extreamly tired of crying I just want it to stop. For everything to stop. Now i'm in a crib in a hospital trying to calculate how this is possible I remember the crash, sirens throbbing pain than nothing. I was old I mean I wouldn't say old I was 78 my names was charles wheeler. I dont know why but these memories wont stop crashing against the sides of my head. All I know is my vocal cords aren't developed my legs are practically mush and there were just a bunch of strangers whom I suppose were doctors washing me! Then started the beging to carry me then everyone was carrying me and i'm crying and there telling me its ok but its not because i'm an old man! now i'm a baby girl! And my mind is flooded with the need to find Amy and Greg and Burt and I need to see them but I dont even know where I am or how I got here or if I can trust the people who I suppose will take me with them to who knows where!\n\nIts been about a year. I can still remember most everything i'm still incaged in this miniscule body. Sarah and Emma my mothers are very kind but I miss my old friends my wife and my old body. Although I do feel a bit refreshed being young again. Iv olmost of gotten used to it. Every day I try to speak I get closer and closer I remember being in a chorus at a church or maybe temple in my past life so I should be able to speak sooner that most. Or thats what im hoping. Also when I tell Sarah and Emma that I happen to be the only person in the entire world who remembers there past life there going to freak there very catholic. It goes against everything they both think!\n\nI'm two years old i can finally talk and walk properly but think i'm talking gibberish when i try to tell them about my old life and i'm forgetting lots about it. a lot of things. i can't even remember my wife name and what it feels like to be a guy and i have an odd liking to princesses.\n\ni'm tre yeo old i wuv moms i want mommy weo mommy weeee. ohhh bobel.", "I literally only started writing about 2 weeks ago.. so sorry. I liked this and just typed, hope it makes sense.. lol\n\n--\n\nWhen I was 17 I started having strange dreams, vivid dreams. I dreamt of a white glow, there was nothing else, just a white glow. It was strange, because I felt so lucid. I had control over my body, my movements. Over a course of several months I continued dreaming the same dream, only that white glow seemed to get thinner every night I saw it.\n\nFirst of all I could see shapes, I knew there was something there. Even though I tried to walk towards those shapes, I never got any closer, like walking towards a rainbow it remained the same distance away. I told my parents about it but they didn't help. \"Those are some exciting dreams you're having, son,\" my father would say, feigning interest.\n\nAfter a few more weeks and a couple more \"white glow dreams\" I was able to make out details. I knew I could see a person in the distance, a little girl. She had natural red hair, like the colour of flames, and always a welcoming smile. It felt like she knew me. Like I should know her.\n\nYet again, after a few weeks and some more dreams there was more detail. I could hear her voice, the typical sweet voice of a little girl. However her words sounded muffled, they echoed like she was speaking to me from the far side of a large empty hall. The dreams continued like this for another month or 2, nothing getting any clearer. I tried speaking to her, hoping that the contact would end the dreams and I could go back to dreaming about normal things but it didn't work.\n\nThen one night, I thought it was the same dream all over again. As always I tried speaking, hoping if she could hear me, maybe I'd be able to hear her.\n\n\"Mike,\" she said, \"come play for a while, it's not that warm!\"\n\nThose words came through clear as day, it was a revelation. I tried to call back, \"I'm not Miiiiii..\" when I was suddenly sucked in towards the glow. If you can imagine the feeling of being drawn into a black hole, that's how it felt. And with this feeling came floods of memories, flashbacks, as if it were my own life.\n\n\"Mike, you want to come down to the river and play on the swing again?\" she asked me, the events of that day rushed into my mind. Playing on the old tyre, tied to the tree branch, our \"swing\". I knew her dad had helped us make it. I knew the tyre was an old one from his red Ford. I knew we were in southern California. I could picture the town we lived in so clearly I could draw an accurate map. Memories just kept coming, like a never ending train of information. The days we travelled to school together. The time I was moved into her class. The day she fell off her chair in that class. The day she brought me behind the school building during lunch and kissed me. My first kiss. The shock I felt, as an 10 year old would feel after his best friend just kissed him. The car ride home in the soaring heat. The windows down, the air hitting my face. And the moment we collided with a truck. The darkness.\n\nI woke up that instant, my heart beating a million beats per minute. A cold sweat, dripping down my forehead. Tears ran down my face, I felt something that I had never before felt in my 17 years... my 27 years. I had knowledge in my brain that wasn't there before, memories that weren't there before, a family and a name that wasn't there before. It was truely impossible how I could know all this, surely it was just a dream? But it was a dream like no other that belonged to string of dreams like I had never experienced before." ]

[ 1, 1, 3 ]

[ "1415606453", "1415610064", "1415603644" ]

[ "Mortal Kombat happens", "\"It has been many, many years since we controlled reproduction\". Susan said calmly to her daughter, she rarely spoke of these matters. \"You and your sisters are so much alike, because ultimately, we are all copies of each other. Clones, they used to call us. Now since, we're all \"clones\" the word isn't used anymore\". The earth rattled above as another suction trap sprung on top of the makeshift bunker.\n\nSmall Rebecca adjusted herself in the chair, while she gave an inquisitive look to her old mother. \"The War is just a vestige of the government trying to control the conditions under which population control was exerted. First, it was meaningless traits like eye and hair color. But then, gender control meant more males were being born. Us, we didn't like it; to say the least. While on one side of the earth mostly males were being born, we prepared an army of women\". Rebecca had heard the word male, but never applied to the human species. For a moment she drifted trying to picture a human male. Human male? Preposterous. Her mother continued, \"Everyday things got more feminized in the West. Language changed, politics changed, public health standards changed; female population was so predominant, males started becoming something of a rarity\". \n\n\"How was it before the War, mother?\". In spite of her mere 12 years, Rebecca was smart for one so young. \"There has always been war. Males fighting males\", Susan dismissed. \"And as males fight between each other, they do so with manly weapons. Guns, knifes, cannons, torpedoes, bombs; like if it were all a penis size competition\". Rebecca only saw her mother talk so fiercely when remembering the old days. \"And of course as we claimed power, the war was feminized too. Suction traps, acid soakers, binders and hormone warfare became the weapons of the West\". \"But Mother, you haven't answered my question. Why are you flying behind enemy lines?\". \"Ah!\", Mother exclaimed. \"East still has their nuclear bomb. The archetypal male domination symbol. We have seen the power that a nuclear weapon can unleash. But we have created our own. Heavily based on quantum physics as well. We have a new weapon. Think of it as an explosion of a million black holes. Each black hole sucking up on the surrounding matter until it stabilizes. Each miniature black hole engulfing everything there is on its path\".\n\nSusan got up from her chair and walked to the hangar. \"Today, I leave my baby, because today, we win the war\".", "\"*Dear Marie,*\n\n*It has been 12 days since I last wrote you.*\"\n\nMarie looked upon the envelope on her desk. It was withered, ripped apart from all sides, yellow from fat and grease, despite the mark indicating it was sent just under two weeks ago. Marie took the envelope in her hand and stroke it across her cheek, continuing to read the newer letter in her other hand. The envelope got wet.\n\n\"*I hope you have been well. I am sorry I could not have written sooner, but there were strict orders not to write during that time. Now you have probably heard why. Operation Blue Wolf was successful.*\"\n\nMarie looked up from the letter to see the newspaper on her desk. The screen displayed a couple headlines, among which an article about the cloned housecat, the protests in Moscow against digital voting, and the latest word of the prime minister on the automation crisis. Most prominently, though, she saw the hologram, designed to catch the attention. \"RIO IS FREE!\". For a moment there, she was convinced the paper was crashing, because the hologram became unreadable. Only when she felt her husband's letter wetting up, did she realize she was crying.\n\n\"*I probably shouldn't call it 'Operation Blue Wolf', but that's what everyone here calls it, so I have become accustomed to it. My men are cheering and drinking and dancing all night. I have to admit I didn't leave them alone in that regard.*\"\n\nA noise suddenly appeared behind her. Shocked, she turned to see the same wall she was leaning against before, blue-grey with a hint of purple, according to the interior artist at least. Then, a similar sound appeared as she realized the noise was her own laughter. Though it was more of a chuckle, inside she wanted to roll on the floor, put on the cheesiest party song she knew and break-dance completely out of rhythm with the music. Instead, she coughed a bit and turned the letter around, to read the other page.\n\n\"*It has been a while since anyone here had such a great time. We have been besieging Rio the past year or so, and only now have the effects took hold of the rebels inside. The population has been given the healthcare they should have gotten a long time ago. I saw children running down the streets with smiles from here to the moon on their faces. A sight I don't see often enough nowadays.*\"\n\nMarie looked to her left to see the other half of the bed empty. It has been that way a long time. 14 years ago, she met Adrian through League of Legends, a quite popular simulator at the time, though most people still called them \"video games\" back then. She was 17 years old when she started playing matches with hunterXXX on a regular basis. Not that she was any good at the simulator, let alone with her ping all the way from Brasilia, Brazil's then-capital. Nonetheless, she still enjoyed the chatting with this charming guy who spoke Portuguese with a strong German accent. They both ended up studying Applied Organic Chemistry, though Adrian at a much more prestigious school than Marie could afford.\n\n\"*I want to remind you to update the server to version 8.12.01. It's currently at 8.09.05 and the compatibility issues are showing. But more importantly, I want to remind you to eat your \"fruits and vegetables\" ;) tomorrow, from me. It's your birthday after all, and I know you will forget to eat them if I am not there to force you.*\"\n\nMarie leaned motionless against the wall after reading that, still like a statue, until she shook loose with tears welling up and that chuckle she let out earlier. She looked at the calendar and noticed it was indeed the last day of April, and the first day of May was the same day of the year she had been celebrating the past 30 years, to remind herself she made it through yet another. The tear had stopped welling up and slowly flowed down her cheek, dropping on the carpet floor. Marie, who would usually take a paper towel and some slight cuss words to clean it up, didn't even seam to notice; she was reading the letter again.\n\n\"*One last thing before I say goodbye. Frank has been having some issues lately with his daughter and all, he wrote me, and considering he has lost his cabby job lately, please help him out here and there if you can.*\"\n\nMarie looked straight ahead, and saw the family portrait hanging on the wall. Candice was still a baby back then. Last Saturday night, Candice stood in front of her doorstep seemingly wearing nothing but a bra and panties, though that didn't distract Marie. It was her looking down and asking permission to enter. As she had already opened the door wide before she even started asking the question, Marie wondered why she was alone at her doorstep. She didn't find out, but Candice slept in her house that night until she left the following morning. Frank stood outside, tears welling down his face, and held his arms open as Candice jumped into them. Despite such a cliched family act, neither seemed to laugh. Rather, both wept.\n\n\"*I think I will write you again in about a week. I know the specific time it will take, but can't tell you. What I can tell you is this: I love you.*\n\n*With all my heart, Adrian*\"", "He placed a laptop on the smooth desk in front of him, cleared his throat and took a scrap of paper out of his left breast pocket.\n\n\"Human history has been the story of ever more complicated means to randomize humanities enemies. Sharp objects and blades randomized small points on a persons body, an art which bullets perfected from a reasonable distance away. Nuclear weapons rendered previous randomization technologies obsolete, and plans have been under way for some time to render nukes themselves obsolete, and, sir, we've finally done it.\"\n\n\"'We've done it'? How do you figure?\"\n\n\"Well, sir, Reagan began plans for a laser defense system way back in the 80's, nicknamed Star Wars for its infeasability at the time. Five years ago, the Israelis developed a laser defense system based around their Iron Dome missile defenses, which we borrowed and refitted to be stationed on all GPS monitoring satellites in orbit. We've done it. Mr. President. Star Wars is complete.\"\n\n\"So, what you're telling me is that I can fire lasers anywhere on the planet at the push of this button right here...\"\n\n\"And randomize enemies from across the planet at speeds unheard of before today. Yes, sir, that is what I'm saying.\"\n\n\"How accurate is this system?\"\n\n\"Up to .75 of a meter, sir.\"\n\nThe president stood up and smoothed the wrinkles on his tie.\n\n\"Is that close enough to get the Kremlin?\"\n\n\"Close enough to break one window and neutralize one target, without them ever seeing it coming.\"\n\n\"Son, you do know what this means, right?\"\n\n\"Yes sir.\"\n\n\"Every war on the planet can be settled at the touch of this button. Never again will our boys have to be sent overseas to fight, since we can do all the fighting we need from this desk. Entire battalions, armies even, of enemy combatants gone, without risk to even one American life.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"\n\n\"Good. Thank you, son, you've done a great service to your country. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I have some phone calls to make.\"", "She was worth it. That was the only thought that ran through my head as sweat poured down my brow. My limbs were shaking, my clothing soaked, but it was all worth it for her. \n\nMy challenger stood thirty passes across from me, his blonde hair the picture of perfection. He smirked, his white teeth reflecting the afternoon sunlight in the garden. His eyes, a violent green, shown with the malice of someone who enjoys watching others suffer. I am sure he was enjoying this. \n\nA bead of sweat made it past my neuro-band, running down the inside of my nose, taunting me. The silence of the garden was deafening. The wind felt strange, because everyone was holding their breath. I couldn't hold on much longer. My body began to tremble, and my eyes twitch. \n\nI felt the warmth of the sun, and the warmth of her hand on mine. A single tear fell slowly, making a soft sound in the dirt. She was worth it, but I had been outmatched. I blinked. \n", "It all began when enough American citizens became aware of the true killer of humanity, and it was right in front of their faces; automobiles. 21st century statistical analyses enlightened even the United States military to abandon all firearms, archery weapons, knives, swords, axes, and all manner of pointy delights and sharp edges for the versatile destruction of an automobile.\n\nSince this concept became popular a civil war broke out between many factions among the citizens and governmental powers. With so many cars, trucks, SUVs, vans, and hybrids, everyone had relatively equal power. That paired with the dominantly used Reptilian Complex during the act of driving forgo many people's ability to reason and increases their aggression, sprinkled with the unfortunate and untimely coincidence that it was Black Friday.\n\nYou see, the Reptilian Complex is best described as the center for our most basic and automated body and brain functions. Breathing, heart beating, to hunger and aggression are all formed in this region directly at the base of the brain. When we drive we do not usually give our full conscious attention to the act of operating the vehicle. Through repetition we have secured the knowledge of driving within our muscle memory and have developed the ability to essentially put driving on autopilot. The downside to this is that we put one of the most lethal inventions mankind has ever come up with under the control of the most primitive and basic parts of human nature. Also known as, the more savage and aggressive side of us. Then society decides to throw water on a grease fire and develops a day where every single mercantile business slashes the prices of their goods and clusters all of these stores together in a fraction of the space compared to the population within dozens of square miles. This is a societal ticking time bomb. \n\nConsequently it turned the United States of America into the Divided States of America, or in many parts of the world, Stockdumm Amerika. \n\nThe warring nation states within Stockdumm Amerikas' tactics had to evolve in such a way that it made the realization of modern warfare during World War 1 a joke in comparison. Picture battles in areas representing hundreds of square miles. Every major road cluttered with smashed vehicles and mangled bodies. It is almost worse when explosions are not present during a battle. For at least bombs, fire, and smoke could mask some of the sight.\n\nThe rule became that only the Noble Steeds, as vehicles became to be known, could be used in the death of another creature. This, for reasons that are completely unknown, spread with religious fervor and became so fanatical that some groups would only butcher and dress their hunted or raised food with a Noble Steed. Meat was never more tender. Violation of these rules ranged from a slap on the wrist to having their \"final ride\" which consisted of strapping the offender to the bottom a low rider with air or hydraulic suspensions with the head sticking out the back. When the Noble Steed reaches sufficient speed it lowers the back part of the Steed to 'drag it' creating a shower of sparks and blood. The head tends to fly out back and to the left. A lot of money has already been spent researching the phenomena and are projected to figure out the solution by 2035. \n\nThe single most popular tactic during a battle with Noble Steeds is to line up the vehicles side by side facing the enemy. Such tactics reflect the way battles were fought prior to the 20th century. Apparently even battle tactics can come back to fashion. One major difference, obviously other than the use of automobiles, is that many battles took place at airport runways. The Noble Steeds travel at top speeds at one another, reinforced with armor plates and other equipment used to reduce the damage received and increase the damage being dealt, smash into each other like rutting bucks. After the initial impact it is a mad scramble to reverse and slam into the enemy again. They keep doing this until one side retreats or another group comes to ride in on one of the flanking perpendicular runways creating a sexy three-way or maybe even a five-way.\n\nOne battle at LaGuardia International Airport consisted of 13 different factions smashing into each other non-stop (with a 4pm fuel up break, a tradition stolen from the British's tendency to have tea at 4pm, although in many factions bringing that up can get you a 'final ride') in what was much later called The Battle of the Baker's Dozen. Most of the names of the battles were not much better.\n\nThe first Automobile War (they weren't called Noble Steeds till the next war) created a global carbon dioxide release as well as create a crippling oil shortage throughout the rest of the world. This angered the rest of the world to ally together against Stockdumm Amerika. Thus sparked World War 3 where major factions in Stockdumm Amerika combine their efforts against the rest of the world changing everything.\n\nThe world's combined power was still no match for the newly made Noble Steeds, vehicles designed for total death and destruction (minus sharp objects and bullets and shit) with no regards to anyone or anything else. Not even nuclear missiles could stop it for they were all disabled in a mission so unbelievable the writer of this nonsense hasn't even thought of it yet. Afraid to, even. \n\nSo beware of a world with no bullets or sharp pointy objects. It could be our doom.", "\"Remember, Don,\" said the voice through her earpiece, \"he's ex-T-Corps and the body count's up to sixteen now.\"\n\nMendez bristled. \"He was up to eight an hour ago.\"\n\n\"Seems like he lost control. Your tranq locked and loaded?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" Don braced himself behind a wall. \"PTSD, am I right?\"\n\n\"It's suspected.\"\n\nHe leaned around a corner, peeking at his target. The man he sought didn't see him; instead, he sat on a bench, staring at a fountain. Only the birds, the plants, and the wastebaskets kept him company. Mendez approached his quarry, taking a silent breath.\n\n\"Corporal Thompson…\"\n\nNo good. He was expected. \"Don't come any closer!\" The corporal got up from the stone bench and extended an arm defensively. His posture, however, was slightly crouched.\n\n\"Corporal, you don't have to do this.\"\n\n\"You think I *wanted* to do this?! You think I wanted *any* of this?!\"\n\nNeither man moved, separated by a small dirt enclosure ringed by similar benches and trash cans. The breeze blew; a sandwich-shop wrapper skittered along the ground in the square. The fountain kept pumping water and the birds kept pecking at the coins people had thrown in it.\n\n\"Corporal, you've killed sixteen people already.\"\n\n\"Men…women…\" the soldier choked. \"Children…\" He fell to one knee, then the other. He thrust his face into his hands and dragged them through his hair. \"I didn't want to do it. I didn't…I didn't want to do it…\"\n\nMendez rolled the dice and slowly stepped closer to the weeping man. \"I know, son.\"\n\n\"*You don't know!*\" barked the corporal, snapping his head up. \"*You have no idea!*\" He jumped to his feet and glared at Mendez, squinting. His sneer softened to a neutral expression after a few seconds; then his jaw dropped. He gasped, his eyes rolling back into his head before his spine went limp. His body unceremoniously flopped to the ground.\n\nMendez approached the body and slipped his hand under the fallen man's jaw, hoping for something he already knew he would not find. He got back to his feet and hung his head. \"No, son,\" he mused. \"I know too well.\"\n\n\"Mendez!\" He had forgotten his superiors were listening in. \"Don! You on the line? You there? What's going on?\"\n\n\"Suspect down.\"\n\n\"You use the tranq?\"\n\nDon shook his head before he realized he was on audio only. \"Negative.\" He let the word hover for a few seconds. \"I had to, Sarge.\"\n\nA sigh washed out by too much treble hit his ear. \"I know.\"\n\nDon pulled out his pack of cigarettes and began to smoke, and he thought about how he was one of the lucky ones. The T-Corps had on paper seemed like a good idea, but actually implementing it produced results like the now-dead corporal and the body counts in their wake. It was somehow fitting, in a macabre sort of way.\n\nHow logical it seemed that mental illness and loss of control would come to men who could kill with a thought.", "I kind of miss bullets, you could hear them coming, pick them up and handle them, and sometimes they went wrong. At first war changed, when Israel unveiled a huge ship mounted laser cannon, some saw a new found protection from aerial missiles, whilst those more in the know knew this meant anything but protection.\n\nMy first job was for a military contractor in the united states whose name I can't disclose. I got a call one day about 6-12 months work there with good pay and not too far from where I live, I jumped at the chance, but something seemed funny when I had to sign a non disclosure agreement. As far as I knew I was working on systems that have been public for years. On my second or third week there I got to go hands on designing the cooling system for a \"beam collimater\", my heart plunged as I saw this thing in front of me, this was an ion gun, or a laser gun to you and me, capable of 50 MW bursts, and small anough to fit in a backpack. The next few years I carried on working for this company, a major reason being to see the inevitable happen, and oh it did. \n\nI am too old to be called up now, and not many who are survive their first month. Humans are no match for these laser guns. Bullets missed, misfired, and even if they hit you had a good chance of seeing tomorrow. Now there is no warning, the awful screeching sound means they have already hit, the only indication you have of their proximity is how loud it is. Soldiers and small drones can storm an area and reduce it rubble with a 10 strong team. Now days nobody even pushes the button to send the drones, they detect a threat, or just calculate suppression fire is needed, and off they go. Tucked away in the middle of nowhere I often think maybe they are all dead, and the robots are just fighting themselves now. There is a faint but unmistakable scream in the distance, with a sigh I open the under stairs door and crawl in to my shelter once again. Why did I have to finish the beam collimator ?", "Marcus kneaded the bal in his hand. \"This is not just a game, this is war\" he thought as he warmed his hands for the upcoming fight. Next to him were the finest warriors America had to offer.\n\nThis battle would decide the conflict between America and China. Next to Marcus sat Zachary. Zachary cleaned his glasses one more time as the count-down started on the big screen.\n\nTen... Nine... Eight... Seven... Six\n\nWilliam payed no attention to the count-down but instead was taking a last look at the notes Daerak had brought. Søren looked at the crowd with confidence.\n\nFive... Four.. Three... Two... One...\n\nWelcome to the League of Legends.", "Famous rappers from across the globe engage in hip-hop battles around the world. Prepared songs and covers are allowed, though extra points are awarded for freestyles.\n\nCeza teams up with Tech N9ne, Busta, Twista, Yelawolf, Jaz-O, All three Bones and the rest of the Midwest/Worldwide Choppers to form the lethal yet surprisingly humorous Speed Strike Team, responsible for zipping across the glove to where the fighting is hardest.\n\n Lil Wayne and Drake had their crew blasted of the face of the battlefield as soon as Biggie and Tupac - both crawling from a crevasse to hell - teamed up to fight the Nu-hop crews with fantastic mashups of 'Juicy' and 'Dear Mama'. \n\nDre and Eminem decided to ride it out and rapped for truth and peace and love and squashing beefs. \n\nJa Rule went back to prison because he was too annoying to have out in the open - along with 50, though his best material did slip through into mainstream hip-hop warfare. \n\nJay-Z operated as Vice President of Rap under Kanye West who only achieved supremacy through his aggressive pro-democracy campaign using the slogan 'No one man should have all that Power.' supplemented by excellently produced beats from most of his previous albums.\n\nDetroit exploded in size, quadrupling in population density and surface area in only three months due to millions of projects funded by Vanilla Ice and Cena. \n\nCoolio was excommunicated. \n\nSnoop stopped smoking more or less...as in he kept smoking the same amount.\n\nThe rest of the hip-hop worlds drew lines and crossed them again and again, squashing and reforming beef faster than the patty-maker at McDonalds. Westwood superseded Apple in terms of net income in just four days and became the primary source of news in the new world. Breakdancers and Parkour...ers... were used on the front lines to create visual distractions while the famous lyricists on both sides prepared new rap. Korea seceded from the world, as did the majority of Asia, since having auto-tuned 25-syllable-per-second rappers was just unfair. \n\nUltimately, the world divided itself into two distinct groups, one huge project in which individual turf wars occurred but mostly a system based on mutual respect and love for freedom dominated. Equality was established and though women, homosexuals and white people were often called out with slurs and stereotypical archetypes, they were always apologised to and no real beefs were left searing. Everybody wore head-scarves and went around shirtless and tattooed, marijuana was legalised as were other drugs, but their use was discouraged and anybody who did develop an addiction was helped out of it. \n\nThe other group was mainly just people breaking shit and wearing gigantic jewelry and drinking and claiming that they were gonna murder people.\n\nIn the end only Kendrick Lamar remained, mainly because the only way to eliminate an opponent in a world without weapons was simply to 'Kill their Vibe', an impossible feat given the circumstances.\n\nAnd that is a short future-history of non-lethal rap.", "General Horatio Phillips signaled the readied 12th Fluff cannon group and ordered the 3rd Kings Own Hugable Rifles to prepare for battle. On the other side of the field lay the dreaded Snuggle Bunny division known to tickle prisoners of war. Was there no sanity in this dreaded war of the pillows? General Phillips rode upon his trusty bunny mount in front of the battle group. \"Men! Today we go forward to defend our way of life. Some of us may fall down, other may have their feelings hurt, but we shall all serve as pillow men!\" ", "Boris Volkov, the Russian Prime Minister, looked across the table with steely eyes. His gaze was met by Anthony Chambers, the President of the US.\n\n\"It seems,\" a reporter could be heard in the distance talking to a camera, \"that the negotiations have reached a much-predicted impasse. Could this be a revival of spirits from the Cold War?\"\n\nThe Russian leader turned his head ever so slightly, with his eyes still fixed on his adversary, to nod at someone from his party. The person immediately rose and left the table.\n\nThe President acted like-wise, as did one of his men.\n\n\"We are here, reporting live from the Kremlin, where it seems that preparations for the resolve of this conflict are already under-way. It appears neither of the great leaders had much faith in the other, as they both seem to have been waiting for this moment.\"\n\nThe Russian party member arrived at the table, holding a large, ornate box. He dropped it in front of Volkov with a loud thud.\n\nThe Prime Minister turned to the rest of his entourage and picked out four of them. The rest departed.\n\n\"Finally,\" he said to them, \"I have been preparing for this day. I'm going to teach that smug bastard a lesson.\" They all smirked, some openly laughed.\n\nThey all took from the box an Occulus Rift each.\n\n\"The equipment is here, it seems,\" the reporter was going on. \"The omni-directional treadmills are being set up as we speak.\"\n\nThe American team had picked out their own Rifts and were headed for the Omni's that were positioned, now, next to the table. They were fitting their custom digital gloves on their hands.\n\n\"Let's show them why they make these things in *Americah*, boys.\", said Chambers. \"I'm picking Sniper. We're going for a blitz.\"", "Neutron Instability Cascade, or NICs as we called them in the service were a new weapon of war. It replaced damn near everything overnight. Not really sure how it worked, but it somehow popped the neutrons off an atom, which in turn made the whole thing unstable. Not in a nuclear bomb sort of way, but turning folks into hydrogen and trace other elements. It got hot real quick when one of those things was used and then gas and haze. After a few minutes it got real cold. Something about an energy exchange the intelligence people said. \n\nI remember running in the snow, and hearing that “click clack click clack” sound of the NICs firing. Sounded like one of those annoying air filters with the metal filter. Couldn’t see the beams fired, but whatever they hit turned to gas. Hell, armor was useless, would go through anything without stopping. Only reason to duck behind a wall was to make sure they didn’t see you. That’s when they started working on that optic camouflage in earnest.\n\nI was deployed in Georgia then. Defending borders until General Chelsea’s push south. Before the war Georgia was beautiful, before we put all the ruts into the earth and flattened near everything. The fighting was so thick, by then end it was snowing, in July. Our weapons pulled so much energy out of the area it was screwing up the weather. \n\nOne morning we were doing a patrol when a NIC bomb dropped on the jeep in front of us and the whole thing went up in H-smoke. The rest of ducked behind an old gas station, lying as flat as we could in a small ditch. I was next to Dakota, a nice lady from Iowa. We were close. Real close. She took NIC-grenade to the chest. Nothing left but smoke and ash. It is hard losing a fellow squad mate and close friend. Harder still breathing them in your lungs when they die. Never took off my resperator mask after that day.\n" ]

[ 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 14, 18, 52 ]

[ "1415668806", "1415656637", "1415659243", "1415661458", "1415663819", "1415665929", "1415668806", "1415668850", "1415659117", "1415660508", "1415650847", "1415652852", "1415650876" ]

[ "Constantine glanced at his watch - 337242 hours and 37 minutes left. It was a recent invention. He thought back to the days before the accursed device came along. \n\n\"Would you rather know exactly when you were going to die?\", a friend had asked on a slow school day.\n\n\"It depends... How would it work? Would I be virtually immortal until the appointed time? Or would the time I had left change with every decision I made? I suppose it doesn't matter. After all, life's unpredictability is the only thing that keeps it interesting. It's not as if I plan to live till a ripe old age. 'It's better to burn out than to fade away', right? I'm perfectly fine with dying at any time.\" \n\nYet here he was, 20 years later, wearing a watch that told you how long you had to live. \n\nHe had received it as a birthday gift and decided to try it out of curiosity. It was amusing - at first. But soon, Constantine found himself constantly checking his watch. His newfound knowledge had his heart gripped with fear. He had thought that knowing when he was going to die would be liberating. Instead, he found himself trying to extend his hours and in doing so, he didn't live. He was merely a shell of the man that he had been in the days before the accursed device. He knew this and yet, he was powerless to do anything about it.\n\nConstantine was snapped out of his thoughts by a voice over the intercom, \"Good morning, this is your Captain speaking. Welcome aboard the flight. We are just about to take off, so, buckle in and enjoy the flight.\" \n\nAs the plane lifted off the ground, Constantine glanced at his watch and his eyes grew wide as he read it - 0 hours and 20 minutes left. He turned to his neighbour and saw a similar mixture of fear and shock reflected on his face. An unnatural silence fell on the plane as its passengers started noticing that they all had 20 minutes left.\n\n\"We're going to crash and die,\" Constantine said quietly and all hell broke loose. \n\nChaos. \n\nPeople screaming and crying.\n\nThe couple across the aisle from Constantine embraced and made love for the last time.\n\n\"I'm not going to die a virgin!\" exclaimed a young man who proceeded to savagely attack a flight attendant. \n\nBehind him, Constantine heard, \"Our Father who art in heaven...\" \n\nThe man next to Constantine was on the phone with his wife. He was sobbing uncontrollably and Constantine was sure that the man's wife could not understand a single word he was saying.\n\nThrough it all, Constantine simply sat there - silent and unmoving. All he could think about was how he had wasted his life. In his final moments, he had an epiphany. There was no point in fearing the inevitable.\n\nConstantine glanced at his watch. It seemed that even at the end he was still bound by the curse of the watch. \n\n5 seconds left. At that exact moment, reality set in. \n\nHe started screaming.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nBut it was too late.", "In all honesty, when I got my watch on my eighteenth birthday I was a little disappointed. It was a black, somewhat chunky device with a cheap looking plastic strap. I half expected it to be analogue but with the least contented sigh of relief, I turned it over to see four zeros in pulsating red light. The boy across the road from me had turned eighteen only the month before, but his watch had been sleek and shiny. Why couldn’t mine be like that? It’s held up pretty well these last ten years. A few marks here and there, the glass of the digital display is a little foggier than it once was. But still the light of those four numbers glows strong.\n\nDad had been driving me and my sister back home when his watch let out a long drawn-out beep. I don’t think at that age I fully understood what that meant, and why my dad stayed in the car when we got to our house. I watched him from the front door for a while. He screamed at the watch, hitting the car’s steering wheel over and over. My sister was scared, I wasn’t. He wouldn’t show us the watch or what it said or why he was crying, but as he finally walked into the house I managed to sneak a look at his wrist: the watch had given him 45 minutes. Luckily, my mum had gotten away from work earlier than usual so she was there when we got back. My mum and dad spent a long time by themselves sat on the stairs, their heads together, muttering things quietly between them. My sister and I were flopped on the couch watching some cartoons when my dad came in and kissed us softly on the forehead. Twenty minutes later he was dead on the kitchen floor. He’d had a massive heart attack – information that my mum only told me and my sister years later. He left me his watch in his will, but by that point it had already been taken back from the family. It didn’t belong to us anymore.\n\nI’ve only been unfortunate enough to see somebody run out of time twice in my life. The second time I was in my last year of college when my roommate woke me up in the middle of the night, pointing a trembling finger at his watch. It was counting down from 13 minutes and 52 seconds. I tried to calm him down, I even tried to pry the watch off of him, as if that would help in some way but he wouldn’t listen to me. He was completely unhinged. He woke up the entire dorm with his screaming. I sort of knew what was going to happen. It almost seemed obvious when he climbed onto the frame of the open window. Horrifying, but obvious. The last thing I saw him do was rip the watch from his wrist and chuck it into our room behind him. I thought for a moment he had listened to me and was ridding himself of the device. But then he tumbled out into the darkness and a moment later the screams of the passers-by below started drifting through the window. His watch beeped for a solid few seconds. I picked it up off the carpet just as the digital display froze on 09:13. It beeped once more and reset to 00:00. I suppose he should be congratulated for having beaten the clock by nine minutes. Not every day you see that.\n\nFor the most part, worldwide, the watches are working. Everything seems a lot more comfortable. Fewer crowded city centers, less pollution, more food to go around; even crime, for some reason, has started dropping. It was a weird state of mind for the every person in the world to be in. We always knew we were going to die and that it could happen at any second of any day. Except now we had a watch to tell us that. You never knew when it would activate or how much time it would give you but you just knew that this was it. The only way is down.\n\nMy watch activated fifteen minutes ago. We’d just taken off and everybody in the plane was still buckled to their seats. The beeping started rattling around the cabin of the plane like a swarm of bees. I didn’t even think about the watches, the noise was paralysing me. As everybody in my row of seats started to look at their watches, I realised mine was beeping too. For the first time in my life, it read something other than four zeros: 19:49, and counting. The only way is down. For a good few minutes, there was nothing but panic and crying. 17:26. The stewardess, whose watch was also now ticking, managed to shut everybody up. She stood at the front of the plane like a teacher with an out-of-control classroom. She asked us, by a show of hands, to tell her whose watch was at 17 minutes. Everybody raised their hands. We were all ticking the same time. Not only that, but we were all perfectly synched. All accept one. As I write this, that one person is sat at the very front of the plane, being screamed at and interrogated by other passengers. It’s sick. I thought I might try and do something about it, but I just can’t. His clock is ticking too, but his says 01:13:23. The watch gave him over an hour. That’s just not fair. But people are just scared so they’re taking it out on him. I wonder why his watch is set so long, and if he’ll make it to the end. I don’t suppose I’ll ever find out. All our watches are on 03:16 now. I thought I might have enough time to write something down and upload it before whatever happens happens. I always wondered how they knew. How they knew when we were going to die, or if they’re controlling it, how they do it in the first place. I want anybody reading this to know that I’m not scared. I’m not even angry that I’m the one dying, or that I’m alone and miles from home. I know what has to be done. I understand that this plane was targeted, that *I* was targeted for a reason. It’s that reason alone that makes all of this okay. This is the way it has to be. 02:03. Soon everybody on this plane will be part of a number that future generations read out when they talk about how the world was saved, and that’s good. I’ve always wanted to be remembered for something.\n\n00:34 There’s smoke in the cabin now", "As we take off from the ground the numbers on my watch begin to descend towards zero. Not that this is anything new, everyone’s watch does that. They are meant to tell when a person is going to die after all. It’s the speed mine is falling at that really gets me. It plummets faster and faster, just a blur of numbers until it stops dead on twenty. My pulse slows as i stare at the two blue digits shining up at me. This isn’t so bad; maybe it will be something simple like a heart attack. Maybe I’ll go to sleep and just never wake up. Then the girl next to me starts to cry. The pilot comes on over the loud speakers, his voice thick and choked as he apologizes again and again. \n\nMy watch clicks to nineteen in unison with the rest of the plane. A man further back begins to curse loudly. An old lady across the aisle from me is consoling what must be her daughter. The younger woman is breaking down, her words more incoherent gibberish than true speech. The older lady has the whitest hair I’ve ever seen. The type of snow white I always hoped my hair would turn.\nAnother click. Only eighteen minutes left. It seems a huge oversight to make these things click every minute for the last thirty. It’s unnerving to hear a plane full of the things click in unison. That and it’s a reminder of what’s to come.\nClick. It isn’t until seventeen that the screaming truly begins. Honestly I assumed it would start earlier. I thought for sure after the pilots choked apologize we would get to the screaming, yet none came. Sure most people were crying or praying or both, but I was starting to believe we would all meet our end with a little dignity until seventeen.\n\nClick. Click. Click. Click. It’s still going. The last four clicks have done nothing to end the hysterics which are wearing on me. My Zen like mood left me three and a half clicks ago. I was all ready to die like a philosopher, contemplating the morbid beauty of it all as the plane took us to our final destination. After four minutes of this none stop screaming though I’m angrier at everyone else for making my last minutes unbearable.\nClick. Number thirteen comes like a gift from god as it bring the pilots voice with it. He tells everyone to please be quiet so people can call their families. The poor man has to repeat it several times but at last blissful quiet returns. The woman next to me calls her son, it takes her a few try’s to get the words out, but she manages it in the end. The old ladies daughter calls her husband. She’s still barely comprehensible but at least she manages to use real words this time. All the while the clicking never changes its steady rhythm. \nThe old lady across from me offers me a cigarette. I don’t smoke but I take it all the same. The plane quiets to a whisper of conversation as we reach the single digits. I watch the glowing end of my cigarette burn further and further. The clicking continues. The engines stall. We begin to fall towards the ground. I don’t take my eyes from the glowing ember. This isn’t how I planned to go, but my pulse has slowed back down, and no one’s screaming anymore. Honestly it isn’t so bad.\n", "000/00/00/20/00\n\nFuck.\n\nYou know that feeling when you drive too fast over a bump and your heart jumps into your throat? That instant cold feeling and then all of the sudden you start to sweat? I think it's some kind of natural reaction dating back to when we were cavemen. We didn't have time to assess a situation. We had to have an instinctual response so that we could run and hide, and survive. Well right now my instinctual response has paralysed me to my seat. 30,000 feet up, on flight A592 to New Mumbai, and I'm staring down at my wrist, not able to take my eyes off of my VIT device. 19/58…57…56…55. Before I boarded this plane my VIT was set to years. I'm 26 and I had 60 years on my clock. Now I have 20 fucking minutes??\n\nLooking around, a few people are beginning to look at their VITs and I can feel the panic rising in this now suddenly claustrophobic-rich environment.\n\nAs people begin to stir in their seats. A calm, authoritative voice begins to speak loudly from the back of the cabin and, turning my head almost in slow-motion, see a man standing between the aisles covered in explosives and holding a detonator.\n\n---\n\n\"Welcome aboard. We are now 39,000 feet above the Bay of Bengal. As you may have noticed-\" He said, calmly lifting his wrist to check his own device, \"your VITs have reset themselves to run out in less than 19 minutes. Don't you just love technology? Don't you just love the way your VIT devices updated to reflect your situation? So…methodically, so without passion. These machines have given up on you. How do they know what will happen?\n\nNow I know what some of you may be thinking. 20 minutes is an awfully long time to wait to die. Why not just blow up the plane now? Well… what would that accomplish? And besides, I have a few things I want to do before I die. Strange, how my VIT updated to give me this countdown as soon as I decided on this plan. Quite a piece of technology. Interesting that a VIT would reflect a man's decision to commit suicide. Have you ever thought to wonder how a VIT gets it's end date? I believe they are tied to emotion. I decided to end my life on a world stage, and my VIT happily complied. Giving me just enough time to bring me to this point. \n\nSome of you may have noticed that my VIT is connected to the detonator of this bomb. Taking into account what I have said about the VIT device. I would assume that the timer on the bomb directly correlates with my emotional state, and how long I believe I will live. I also believe that under extraordinary levels of stress, VITs will synchronise with those around them.\n\nSo I have one question, and bearing in mind your collective emotional state, I want you to think very, very carefully.\n\nDo you want to die?\"", "Many cry. Some pray. \n\nMost called their families. Shame. \n\nOnly just a glitch.", "My L-watch sang a note, and so did every other L-watch on the plane. Each note was subtly different, creating a beautiful yet harrowing symphony, ending as abruptly as it began. In a following silence, a baby started crying.\n\nI looked at my wrist. As of that moment, I had 20 minutes to live.\n\n\"This is captain speaking. As you can see, the Institute of the Divine Will had just revealed a new part of God's plan -- one that was previously unknown to them. The details and reasons are still hidden, but it is known that everyone present will perish in 20 minutes.\n\nPlease avoid panic and try to spend your last minutes wisely. Captain out.\"\n\nI was sweating. Of course everyone knew sudden changes happened sometimes — full extent of divine will was not to be known, and the science of it was as hard as quantum mechanics, if not harder. A student might spend two days on complex math, suddenly realizing he only learned a reason for a single leaf to fall.\n\n\"It is for the best\" said a guy sitting to my right. \"We can try to understand it, but in the end it is all a part of the plan.\" He was wearing a ridiculously out-of-place Christmas sweater and huge glasses.\n\nI looked at him without understanding a word. 20 minutes left. 20 minutes. \nAnd so much not done, and Lin waiting for me in the city, still waiting after all we went through.\n\n\"There should be a parachute somewhere\". The thought was ridiculous, but once it appeared I just couldn't lose it. Of course, L-watch was pretty clear about my potential success. And according to some people I will absolutely guarantee myself damnation if I even try to save myself — though I believe that all such attempts must be a part of the plan as well. \n\nSo I thought about things undone, ignored the guy with glasses, and then used in-flight wifi to find where the parachutes might be in a plane like this. Then I went and got one. Of course nobody tried to stop me. It seemed that most people believed in doctrine that promised damnation to survivors. And some of more reasonable ones just found panic undignified.\n\nBy the time it was down to five minutes, I finally had the parachute strapped on and ready to go. Stewardess was happy to help me, though she moved a bit like a zombie, probably still in shock after L-watch update. It felt weird to go five minutes early, after all the old movies I was half expecting to get ready at the last possible second.\n\nBut of course I didn't wait. I thought about Lin, jumped and started counting.\n\nIn five minutes, the plane exploded. As it exploded, I saw glimpses of what happened, not with my eyes of course, but as experienced by the other passengers. A true vision — as rare as ball lightning, and only slightly better understood. In it, I saw the sweater guy standing up, lifting his sweater, and all the wires underneath. \"The sinners will be cleansed by flames\" he said \"and so I am the divine will manifest, the angel of death\". And the fire bloomed.\n\nAs I was falling, still early to open the parachute, my L-watch sang. The note was hopeful and clear. \nI looked at my wrist to see it empty -- no number at all. I wondered what it meant. \n\nBut it felt full of promise." ]

[ 3, 3, 3, 3, 17, 25 ]

[ "1415714707", "1415717952", "1415722682", "1415726433", "1415691419", "1415699660" ]

[ "Beams of light shone through my window into my room through the gray clouds that loitered lazily across the sky: another overcast day in an otherwise deary life.\n\nI rolled over and looked at my alarm clock, which was partially obscured by empty liquor bottles. \n\n8:18AM. The alarm hadn’t gone off. Had I forgot to set it? Oh well. Fuck it, maybe today was the day I would finally quit and tell my bitch of a boss, Julie, to find someone else to bully. Yeah, and maybe I’d even sign the divorce papers. Maybe today I would finally just give up.\n\nI chuckled to myself and waited for the customary rebuttal to support how foolish I was being. How I needed the job, or the money, or the security. Or that maybe today would be the day that Amanda would come back with our son after she had seen how well I was doing.\n\nBut nothing came.\n\nUsually by now I would have already started talking myself into reasons to go in to work, to persevere. My inner self, conscience, gut, or whatever you would call it, always kicked in eventually. But today he was missing. I stared across the room at the bottle of Prozac next to the half empty glass of Crown.\n\nI pushed on; sure that further prompting would resuscitate the rational part of my brain.\n\nI got out of bed and opened the window to my fifth story apartment. Cold November air washed over my skin, refreshing me with new life. I could hear the whip of arctic wind and the buzz of traffic below.\n\nI stepped out onto the fire escape and waited for the return of the deep chasm of worry and regret I was so accustomed to. The only thing I felt was calm. Why had I held on so long, even when the world was crashing around me? Why had I stayed at a job I hated, or given Amanda a second chance after cheating, only to have her leave me? Why had I played along so willingly, even while I hated myself for doing it? What was I so afraid of?\n\nI leaned over the edge of the railing and looked at the dots of traffic and pedestrians as they passed by. It was overwhelming, watching them all moving and doing something with their lives. For a moment I considered going back and writing a note but decided against it. I needed to do this, and I needed to do it now. I took a deep breath and climbed onto the railing, pausing for a moment, waiting for some final forethought from my frontal lobe.\n\nThen I jumped. \n\nAnd for the first time in years, I felt alive.", "Silence. The first thing that struck me. Only myself in charge. There was no voice commanding me to get up or to concentrate on the tasks for that day, only silence.\n\n Meandering slowly to the kitchen I wondered how this changed things. No more instructions or opinion being spoken. No help with my predicament, I hoped I would chose well.\n\n The hum of the coffee machine clawed at the edges of the tranquility which had enveloped the air. My mind wandered to my current situation, there was still time to turn back, for no one to know. Was I right? The voice in my head had been so comforting and reassuring that it was the only course of acton left, the right option, the one everyone would have wanted. Now though, when he was silenced, the doubt returned. \nI looked at the packet of pills on the bedside table, I remembered how sure he had been that it was wrong to take them, how the pills were not going to benefit or change anything. Those instructions had turned to pleading, begging in desperation to be allowed to stay and not be silenced. Eventually last night I compromised an took half the dose along with the regular sleeping medication. I wondered how long it would last.\n\nThe coffee sharpened reality with the burn as it traveled down my throat, the time was near. \nI left out the back door and started the walk to the shed, prepared for whatever the outcome was. The crisp morning air feeling sharp to breathe. Inside the damp cloying smell tugged at my senses, the doubt grew. I looked at the rope, the chair, the letter. The voice still remained silent. I began to think of everyone inside still asleep, unknowing to my turmoil. Why was I doing this? The voice remained absent in protesting against my doubts. I looked at my watch, Karen had got me it for my birthday, before the accident. I thought of her and how she would wake up alone in half an hour, questioning where I was. I remembered the look on her face after I opened up to her about the voice, its plans and orders. She wanted to help me but would I be betraying him? He who had been a constant voice for the past 5 months, to back out on his plan now? \n\nA different voice pierced my reflection. Karen's. I could hear the worry as she shouted my name. \nI climbed up on the chair as I pocketed the letter. No guidance but my own. More lost than ever, but I knew I had decided now.\n \nI untied the rope. \n ", "You awake at 9:00 AM. Work is at 10, so you quickly get dressed and into your uniform. You don't take a shower because you took one last night. You go to the bathroom to brush your teeth and catch a yourself in the mirror. Your hair is messy and you look unkempt. You splash some water on your face, then your hair and pat it down. You spit and rinse. \n\nYou can't remember where you put your keys. They are on your nightstand. You quickly grab your keys, run down the hall, and hop in your old Camry. You forget to lock the door. You hop out of your car and lock the door to your apartment.\n\nAs you drive to work you think of anything you might have forgotten. You didn't forget anything today. You take a right on 4th Street and then a left onto East Boulevard. About halfway down East Boulevard you take a right and head down that road for 5 minutes. You arrive at work just in time. You punch in and greet Julie, your coworker who you have a crush on. She smiles and asks you about your weekend. You tell her how you hit the bar with Joe and Charles Saturday night and lounged around the rest of the weekend. She laughs and tells you about her weekend. You laugh when she laughs. You smile at her and tell her you have to get to work.\n\nYou are busing tables today. You get to your first table and clear the dishes and cups expertly as you have been doing for the past 3 months. Your mind goes on autopilot as you complete your work for the day. You interact with your coworkers very little throughout the day because you have that promotion in mind and want your manager to see your work ethic. Towards the end of the work day he notices and asks you if you would like to wait tables. He says he'll give you a raise if you can prove your worth. You enthusiastically accept. \n\nYou punch out your card and say good-bye to Julie. You drive home. You go back the way you came. You go left on East Boulevard, right on a 4th Street, and you then you arrive home.\n\nIt is 6:20 PM. You drop your keys on your desk. You go on your computer and write some of your novel before deciding to text Julie and ask her what she is doing. You have a pleasant conversation with Julie, using all the appropriate emoticons and responses to increase her affection towards you. Slowly you will work up the courage to ask her out. After watching a few shows on Netflix you head to bed. You set your alarm earlier this time so you can take a shower in the morning. You brush your teeth and take off your uniform. You will sleep in your boxers tonight. You curl up into bed and get comfortable in your sheets. You drift off quickly, not realizing how different your life will be when you awake.\n\n* \n\nI wake up to my alarm at 9:03 AM. I feel different today, but I can't put my finger one it. Slowly I roll out of bed. I can't remember if I showered last night, but since I have time I decide I should take one. I hobbled out of bed, feeling unusually groggy and nearly trip over a pair of pants on the ground. \n\nI feel the cold tile on my feet as I walk into the bathroom. I never noticed how it felt before. I study myself in the mirror. I look at my brown hair, my stubble, my blue eyes. I watch myself, fascinated. For the first time, I noticed myself, my good qualities, my flaws. I really noticed my flaws. I don't like the way I look. Usually I just fix myself best I can and move on, but today, again, I feel so weird. I run my hand across the smooth counter and over the silver sink. I step onto the bathroom rug and feel the softness under my feet.\n\nI turn on the shower and struggle to get it the right temperature. Eventually, I get it to an acceptable temperature, even though it is a little cold. I get in the shower.\n\nI step out after I'm done, again feeling the soft rug and water drip off my body. I dry off and wrap the towel around my waist. I walk to my room and put on my uniform. I check my phone for messages. One message from Julie popped up. It reads:\n\n>I think I really like you. We should go out for drinks Wednesday :)\n\nMy heart skipped a beat. Wow. She likes me. How can I look at her at work today? I feel so off. I think about calling in sick, but since I just got promoted yesterday I decide against it. The time is 9:18 AM now. \n\nI reach for my keys on my nightstand, but they aren't there. Where did I put them? I can't remember. I scour the house for my keys, wasting precious time. Much later I find them. They were on my desk where I put them last night. It was 9:33 AM now. I ran out the door and down the hall. The hallway smells really stale and the air is stuffy. But when I run out the front door of my building, my lungs are filled with cold crisp air that attacks my lungs. Quite the contrast. I nearly slip down the stairs, but catch myself. \n\nI open my car door and slam it shut after I get inside. My leather seat feels too cold, so I put on the heater. I drive onto the road and forget where I'm going. I know I'm going to work, but where is it? I pull out my phone to put it in the GPS, but... I can't remember the name of the place I work. It just doesn't come to me. I pull over on the side of the road. Calling Julie seems like my only option.\n\nThe phone rings twice before she picks up.\n\n\"Hello?\"\n\n\"H-Hey, Julie. What was the name of our restaurant again? I'm having, like, a brain fart over here.\"\n\n\"Oh, um. Munchin' Junction. You've worked here for 3 months.\" She's laughing. \"Are you messing with me?\"\n\n\"Uh, yep! I really just w-wanted to talk to you before work.\"\n\nShe giggles. \"Okay, well you better get here soon. You're gonna be late.\"\n\n\"Alright. I'll, uh, be there soon.\"\n\n*Click*\n\nI type \"Munchin' Junction\" in on my phone's GPS. The time is now 9:42 AM. The GPS tells me where to go. As it blurts out directions, my eyes start to well up with tears. I don't know why, but I begin to feel the bad kind of nostalgia, the kind where you just want to go back. I can't put my finger on what I'm remembering that's making me so sad. I wipe away my tears and focus on the road. I go the wrong way on accident a couple times and end up arriving at work at 10:01 AM.\n\nI open the double doors and punch in my card. Julie is lingering near the kitchen. She notices me.\n\n\"Oh, hey!\" Her eyes light up as she sees me. I finally notice her. She's breathtaking. Her light brown hair is done up in a bun. She has no makeup on from what I can see except a small amount of eyeliner around her eyes. They bring out her bright green eyes. Her lips are curl up into a smile revealing perfect white teeth and bringing her dimples into view. Her cheek bones aren't particularly high on her face, but just around the middle. A few strands of hair drape down over her thin shoulders. Her black apron is tied taut around her waist. \n\nI take a minute to myself as I experience her appearance for what feels like the first time. \n\n\"Are you okay?\" she asks. She looks genuinely concerned.\n\n\"I'm fine. I just-- you look really nice today,\" I manage to say.\n\nShe smiles and pushes those strands of hair back. \"Thanks.\" She clears her throat. \"Aren't you waiting tables today? You should talk to the manager.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah. I should do that.\" I turned away, then stopped. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. \"I'd love to get drinks with you tomorrow night.\"\n\nShe grinned. \"Really? Awesome! I figured since you didn't reply you maybe didn't want to.\"\n\n\"No, no! I fell asleep. I'm also having an off day today.\"\n\n\"Yeah, you seem kind of different today. More... spacey. Like... you're always on the move doing something, but you just seem different.\" I look down. \"It's not a bad thing. I'm sure it's just an off day. You'll feel better tomorrow.\" She smiles. The butterflies do back-flips in my gut.\n\nI nod and go talk to the manager. I trip on the way, and hit my head on the wall.\n\n* \n \nYou're clumsy. You hurt your chances with Julie by coming on too strong, showing too much interest. You feel bad, but you know as long as you follow instructions you can win her back. Your head hurts but you ignore it. You get up from the floor and look at Julie who is laughing at you. You laugh it off saying how clumsy you are. \n\nYou go to your manager and ask him about your new position, apologizing profusely for being one minute late. He accepts your apology, telling you to not let it happen again. He puts you with Bobby, who shows you how to wait tables. You already know what to do, and you surpass him in every way. Your manager is very impressed. At the end of the day you have made a considerable amount of tips. You say good bye to Julie. She seems to interact differently with you than usual. You decide you must have messed things up more than you thought this morning. You punch out and get in the car.\n\nYou go a different route than this morning. You feel you have gotten your bearings back. You go left on East Boulevard, right on a 4th Street, and you then you arrive home. It is 6:20 PM. \n\nYou get home and realize you didn't lock the door. You also realize you didn't brush your teeth this morning. You feel more comfortable now, but also a little sad. You felt a certain freedom this morning that you have never felt in your life. You liked it, but now you realize that work needs to be done. Life goes on. \n\nYou text Julie to apologize for your actions this morning. Surprisingly she replies saying she didn't mind. She liked it in fact. She says you were more natural and less \"robotic\". You are confused but shrug it off and change the subject to drinks tomorrow. You make plans to meet at the bar at 8:00 PM.\n\nYou feel tired so you decide to go to bed early. You brush your teeth, remove your clothes and go straight to bed, ignoring the softness of your pillow and the warmth of your blanket. You sleep to recharge and that's it. \n\n--\n\nYou wake up at 9:00 AM.\n\n\n\n", "...\n\n....\n\nWhat is happening. I don't get it. I can't think. Literally. I fell asleep last night dreading tomorrow's exam. But now I can't think. I can carry vague notions, like what told me to turn on the computer and get to the keyboard. I can still speak, and being able to type indicates I still know how to think. But when I try to think, nothing's there. So... I guess I just type my thoughts. What the hell happened?\n\nI'm used to thinking each word as I type so this is exceptionally weird. But I need to think. I'm human. And apparently I need to type it. This must be a bad dream?\n\nNo, at worst it'd be a nightmare. But I think this is reality. I couldn't dream up these posts on the front page of reddit. Which I REALLY shouldn't be checking right now. Back to the topic at hand. But... I mean, what can I do? I doubt I can get to sleep without that little period of deep thought. Maybe it's still a dream. I pinch myself, and it hurts. The slap doesn't help.\n\nWell, what else can I do? I have no idea. No one would believe me. There's only one hope. I can do what I always do when I don't know something and post it on reddit. It's a long shot, but maybe someone on writing prompts can help me...\n\nWait what there's a voice. In my head but I'm not thinking. I try to speak, and it says it can't hear. Only see. It's laughing. GET OUT OF MY HEAD! I know it'll be empty then but I don't want to think why you're there. Yes, I KNOW I can't think. So you say you just want to think for me? That sounds an awful lot like mind control. No, there's no choice. I can't just ignore what's in my head. Just give me my mind back. What do you want? You want.... my mind? You've stolen my thoughts? You feed on them? I hear the slurping... the laughing.\n\nThen silence. Come out! Please! I beg you.\n\n...\n\nI think it's gone. I can't think what to do...\n\n\nSomeone help." ]

[ 1, 2, 2, 3 ]

[ "1415764989", "1415756437", "1415761233", "1415756074" ]

[ "Bentley leaned forward in his chair leaning his face on upturned palms, pushing firmly into his eyes, casting flashing lights and green shapes chasing one another across the inside of his eyelids. With an exasperated sigh he leant back again and looked at the quivering shape sat across from him. His brow furrowed as he considered his companion and absentmindedly drew on his cigarette, wreathing the air around his head with a smoky blue halo.\n\n \n\n“Lets try this again, you are one”\n\n \n\n“Not one, Xgrak” came the cheerful reply. The wide green mouth widening into a ghastly mimicry of a smile, a gesture one of many learned over the last six months.\n\n \n\n“Yes, yes, you are Xgrak, but you are also one, that’s how many of you there are. The same as the apple, do you remember the apple?” Bentley asked trying to keep his voice calm as he butted his will against the indomitable ignorance of the grinning little alien across the desk.\n\n \n\n“Yes, apple good, much tasty” Xgrak was excited in his response, bouncing slightly in his chair as he began to regale Bentley with the assorted ways he loved this tasty Earth treat. \n\n \n\nBentley let his head drop again into his palms, counting his anger slowly in his head. Tamping down on the rising rage threatening to boil over into shouted inquisition regarding the pedigree of Xgraks parentage. Over and over it went, each time the same responses. One plus one was two, it was so simple, the basis of the whole goddamned Universe. But here sat this cheerful little fool, able to move flitting between the stars but still not able to even count to two. Useless.\n\n \n\nBentley waved Xgrak to silence and moved to the door. In the adjacent room a hunched coven of grey haired men waited. They had sat and watched Bentleys questioning, considered the responses of this visitor from beyond the stars.\n\n\n“Its no use” said Bentley as he sank into a waiting chair. Pausing momentarily to light another cigarette from the smoldering tip of the last. “He just doesn’t get it”.\n\n \n\nThe oldest of the grey haired men nodded his sympathy at Bentley’s exasperated tone. “We understand son, but you have to work out how. We have to know how many of these bloody bastards there are, we need to know how many might just decide to come visit if the mood so takes them. The safety of the entire planet depends on it”.\n\n \n\nBentley nodded slightly in agreement, frustration writ deep in tired lines carved into his face. “Ok, just give me a moment and I will try again”.", "The green man from another planet was visibly nervous. Understandably, of course. He wasn't used to having the laws of physics be so insistent on only one interpretation. Right now, that interpretation was downwards.\n\nNormally, in day to day life, gravity was not really much of an issue. But when you are in a spacecraft hurtling towards the ground at increasing speed, it jumps higher on your list of things to worry about.\n\nAll screens were on fire with warnings:\n\n\"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \n\"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \n\"Anomaly drive offline\"\n\n\"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \n\"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \n\"Internal diagnostic test failed\"\n\n\"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \n\"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \"2+2=4\" \n\"Abnormal amount of consistency detected\"\n\nIn all his years travelling the galaxy, he had never experienced a failure like this. This planet had been marked as a restricted area but that usually that just meant it was a nature preserve. Never anything like this. Perhaps it had not been a good idea to jump straight into their atmosphere after all..\n\nHe looked out his front windshield at the small blue and green planet. The planetary databanks had marked this as an undeveloped planet. But that could not possibly be correct. They must be a very powerful race to extend such a large physics manipulation field around the planet. Even the small field he projected around his ship could not compensate.\n\nWith a clunk, his math manipulation field collapsed and he became fully influence by the planet's math field. 3 minutes until impact, his computer chirped out happily. It also offered a helpful list of normal pre-planetfall activities that lasted 3 minutes such as have a cup of tea or have the local favorite travel snack named \"pretzels\".\n\nOn an hunch, he diverted all manipulation energy into communications and sent out an emergency query into the dataverse. One single hit came back. A prank. A device left on the planet 3000 years ago that enforced a single mathematical causality onto the hapless residents. \n\n2 minutes until impact. If he could only locate the device and deactivate it, he would survive. A planet-wide sweep produced no energy signatures. Of course, this was in the causality of the device. It would be undetectable.\n\n1 minute until impact. He had one last chance. He broadcast the prankster's name over subspace, hoping it was the password to turn the device off. Nothing.... and then his craft began to slow down.\n\n\"2+2=4\" \"2+2=5\" \"2+2=6\" \"2+2=7\" \"2+2=8\" \n\"2+2=9\" \"2+2=10\" \"2+2=11\" \"2+2=12\" \"2+2=13\" \n\"Systems abnominal. Systems online.\"\n\nA mere kilometer above the surface, the spacecraft flattened out. The math field had collapsed. He peered out the window at the city below him and wondered if they had even noticed. Wanting to get out of the area before anyone noticed his subspace message, he wrote a quick note in a language they could read then broadcast it to all channels he could think of.\n\n\"Math consistency device under pyramids deactivated. Please inquire to the galactic counsel with regards to the perpetrators\"\n\nWith that, he left the planet. They would thank him, he was sure.", "\"Math?\" The modulated, robotic voice seemed to be confused but the source of the question belayed no such emotion. \n\n\"Indeed. What lies before you is our knowledge of the field of Mathematics up until this point.\" The room of scientists, physicists, and mathematicians was quiet; they were anxious to learn. This was their first meeting with the strange being since it appeared. The religious nuts got to claim first encounter and after some heavy debate and planning they were convinced to the allow others to speak with it.\n\n\"I know nothing of Math.\" The answer was flat, straight forward and completely unbelievable. It didn't blink nor make any movements to give away any notion of its intentions.\n\n\"Math is universal,\" a man spoke up from his corner matter of factly,\"everything can be explained by it. Surely you are aware of that which rules our existence. We have all seen you're amazing feats, your powers. We simply want to understand how you can do those things. What is the math that allows such phenomenon to exist? Why won't you tell us?\" The man was yelling, fists clenched, standing now. His peers were wide eyed and sushing him, trying to prevent him from offending the alien.\n\n\"Existence is ruled by the Will of the Creator.\" Even through the speakers the voice sounded as matter of fact as the claim of math being universal.\n\n\"Don't give me that religious bullshit!\" The same man was practically screaming now. \"Those religious nuts already determined you are not God!\" The alien turned to face him, but he didn't stop. \"We don't yet know if your abilities are some form of natural biological act or some kind of technology, but we intend to find out!\"\n\n\"You misunderstand. You, are the Creator. It is by each of your wills that rules existence. Everything that I do, is by my Will. I am the Creator, my Will be done!\" Somehow the voice was no longer coming from the speaker but rather boomed throughout the room.\n\n\"Your Will has created logic, as my Will defies it!\"" ]

[ 2, 5, 6 ]

[ "1415775639", "1415765473", "1415764687" ]

[ "The man with the camera jumped over the fence and the woman with the homemade riot shield did her best to cover him. But the shield was made of wood, and though it had been blessed by the pastor, it had no magical properties, and the bullets burst through it, pierced her leather jacket, entered her body, and blasted her vital organs to bits.\n\nThough her guts were filled with bullets, the protestor was at peace. She knew that what had happened here would been seen around the world. If there was any debate as to the government’s reasons for militarizing the police, tomorrow that debate would be over. The people would open their eyes and see that the tanks and the grenade launchers were not for their protection, but rather their pacification.\n\nA spotlight from a helicopter drifted over the scene, but it was too late, the man with the camera had vanished, and the protestor’s heart had stopped beating. She died with a grin on her face and one final thought: This is not the end. This is the beginning.\n", "\"This is not the end. This is the beginning.\"\n\nSometimes I look at the inside of my locket at night. Under the covers, using a flashlight, just to make sure it still says those words. I was so clever, so so clever, and now I never have to worry about anything ever again. I just need to wear the locket, and no harm will befall me. I will not die, nor grow ill. I don't age, or really need to sleep - I still do, though. And the locket goes with everything, too. Golden chain and a silver and gold outside, wrapped with silver wire around a heart. Inside, those words. A lifetime to live, forever mine. A beginning, with no end.\n\nThere is always a price, of course. This one was a piece of gold each day. I remember the ritual, the flickering flame as it spread across the circle of blood on the floor. It had taken me years to find the script to properly raise up a demon that could grant wishes, and this one asked for currency. I have a lifetime, though. I just need to be sure to never remove the locket, else the demon will return. \n\nI step out of bed, the chilly air raising goosebumps on my skin. My room, full of curios and riches interspersed with pictures of me during all sorts of historic events, is lit by the ornate candle holders that each hold a thin flame.\n\nAs I meet my reflection, I see instead the face of the demon. He is grinning. I look into his eyes. He wears a locket much like my own, although it is on a longer chain than mine.\n\nFunny, it didn't use to be longer than mine...\n\nFrantically, I look down at the locket in my hands, and read the inscription to myself, trying to pretend that everything is okay.\n\n\"This is not the end. This is the beginning.\"", "Looking down at my motionless, diminutive body, I realized the extent of my wounds. Mark held me down like a child and stabbed me over and over and over. There was no reason. Everything was red.\n\nTo my left, I saw a majestic white light. Heaven was inviting me and, at the time, I guess that's where I belonged. But to my right......I saw a dark, red tunnel. Somehow, I knew this was the path of revenge. I went right, and never looked back.\n\nAs I opened my eyes, I had but one thought, 'This is not the end. This is the beginning.'", "I lit my cigarette and looked at the window. It had begun the invasion of demons onto the planet. The sidewalks opened up and all hell literally broke loose. I blew out the smoke and watched them come up and immediately stop snatching people. Great big demons with red eyes and massive horns were destroying buildings. Little imps had started to attack people in massive swarms tearing the flesh from their bones. I put my cigarette out and grabbed my coat. My name is John Constantine and this is not the end. This is the beginning.", "They met when he was 6 and she was 9.\n\nFriends until college, where they danced and spilt wine.\n\nLiving life with romantic styles, \n\nthey were happy if not for just a little while.\n\nTime went on as it is wont to do,\n\nFour grown kids and 4 dead dogs after the calendars marked their anniversary year 42.\n\nHis eyesight growing bleary, her hearing getting hard,\n\nThey lay in bed in the winter of their lives, smiling faces hardly marred.\n\nThey felt it coming, the time was growing near.\n\nHe squeezed her hand and with eyes of fear\n\nHe whispered, \"Love, I do believe Death is winning\"\n\nand she kissed him and whispered back into his ear,\n\n\"This is not the end. This is the beginning.\"", "Standing in the Holotron, it was as if space president Rukia were only one earth meter in front of her. Today was the 100th anniversary of the last star dying out. Though everyone had long since realized how silly using earth years was with all the stars gone.\n\n\"We have proven ourselves in the hardships of the black and the human resolve can never be questioned.\" The commanding sound of her voice was the main reason she had been elected over fierce competition. \"The stars should have gone out 10 trillion years ago. But we kept them alive. Now, all that remains is dust.\"\n\nA well timed pause for effect. Patricia glanced around the room, filled with other journalists. Their attention was still entirely on the president. Typical.\n\n\"Humanity has had a long entry in the history books. We now enter a new chapter. We have always survived and we will continue to survive. We will find a way to reverse entropy and restore the stars and the night sky to their former glory.\"\n\nPatricia's ship, being a journalistic ship had windows along all the outside corridors. It provided good photo taking opportunities. HAD provided good photo taking opportunities. Now there was only darkness.\n\n\"This chapter should read of our bravery and our ingenuity. And the next chapter will read of how we overcame physics itself to start humanity's the legacy. We have so many more chapters to write. I hope you will write them with me.\"\n\n\"This is not the end. This is the beginning.\"", "Death waved a finger at me, inviting me to come join him. A being of white light did the same on the other side of me. I stood still, stuck between which one to choose. The light desired that I live, that I continue to go on in my broken body, one torn apart by violence and hatred. Death offered me mercy, the chance to be at peace.\n\nHow did I end up here, you might ask? It was a peaceful night with my family. And then the men broke into our house. Both of my children, bullets between the eyes. My wife didn’t last much longer, her broken smile falling onto the carpet in front of me as her blood gushed out. But I had reached one of the gunmen and was grappling with them.\n\nIf you’d believe it, the man had the nerve to look me right in the eye as he fired the gun, saying a few precious words I’ll never forget, as if he wasn't as evil as he seemed.\n\n“This is not the end. This is the beginning. I’m so sorry.”\n\nWith no family left to go back to, with a bullet lodged near my spine and paralyzing me from the waist down, why would I want to go back?\n\nI walked over to Death, the light hanging its head in sorrow. It wasn’t long until I had stabbed Death right where his heart should be and watched as he collapsed. Who would have thought? Death can die.\n\nThe light stared on in horror as I moved towards it, Death disintegrating into a fine black dust that flew through the air and surrounded me, engulfing me, and transforming me into Death itself. The light never had a choice. My black robes, now with a hint of red, walked through the portal he had opened. Death would live this very day, and he would seek out those who killed his family. The Hatred now apart of Death glowed red on the black robes.\n\nI awoke in the hospital. It took all I had to not destroy everything in sight, but some of my humanity was in tact, at least for now. The first one responsible for my family’s deaths was gone.\n\nThis is not the end. This is the beginning!\n\n-315" ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 5 ]

[ "1415761824", "1415763824", "1415770394", "1415762636", "1415759374", "1415760407", "1415757651" ]

[ "2030 Gare Du Nord, Paris\n\n'It's all about the train Eddy, get on it!'\nHis father's words rang violently through his head.\n\nChuff chuff. The crowd flocked to platform 13 with a harried panic. The track was empty; the moment, frenetic. \n\n'All first class travellers are to stand on the yellow line...'\n\nThe announcer had an air of pleasantness in his voice. \n\n'The rest.....stand by.'\n\nThe scoffs were palpable and clear from a mile away. Hordes of panic stricked citizens clambered to get on. The fires fuelled up into the air as the city descended into chaos, the virus had taken off.\n\nEddy, a skinny kid darted past the masses before entering the compact pit at the back of the train. He entered the baggage area.\n\nBefore he went into the train. \n\n1954 Gare Du Nord\n\nEddy came out and was flabbergasted by the setting; French ladies dressed in hats and dresses, men in overcoats and strap ons, all drinking whiskey and having a merry old time. \n\n'Degages fiston.'\n\nA burly man in his twenties, shoved Eddy out of the way, brusquely. He approached an elderly man by the corner of second class, he released a package;\n\n'Voila le medicin. You will need this in 2028.'\n\nEddy caught the corner of his eye. \n\n'That's him, the Time mole!' \n\nHe fetched another casket of medicine. \n\n'Take this back to your godforsaken future....'\n\nThe train left the Gare du Nord towards Versailles past the Dordogne. \n\n'Get off, back through the baggage area.'\n\nBut Eddy escaped, the lure of the French country was too much as the TGV roared past with the fate of humanity dwindling away towards La Periphique.", "I stood in front of the train tracks. I was ready. I was prepared. All I had to do was wait for the train and take a few more steps, and then it would all be over. All the pain and sorrow. Everything; gone. I saw the train approach.\n\n\"It's all about the train,\" I said as I took a step." ]

[ 2, 2 ]

[ "1415916911", "1415917442" ]

[ "“We made a deal, me and you. You’re not the type to back out of a deal. That’s why you’re my friend. That’s why you’re my best friend.”\n\nThe snow was coming down heavy outside the cabin. The fireplace crackled, sending a spiral of dying flames towards the coffee table between them. On the table were four items; one 750ml bottle of Glenlivet 18-year-old Scotch whisky, one drinking glass for the man on the left, one drinking glass for the man on the right, one 44 caliber revolver with 2 rounds loaded into unknown chambers. \n\n“We were thirteen. We aren’t thirteen anymore. We’ll be dead soon enough, why do you still want to do this?”\n\n“I’m tired of being old. I knew I would back then and I was right. We’re 73 mate. What are we still holding on for? We had some good times. You maybe more than me, but I had my fair share of laughs. I’m tired now. I’m tired of not sleeping when I want to. I’m tired of sleeping when I don’t want to. I’m tired eating shit I don’t like. I’m tired of people looking at me like I need their help. I’m tired of needing their help. I’m tired of being old. I’m just plain tired…” \n\nHe finished what was left in his glass as his friend looked on through glassy, melancholy eyes. \n\nThe fire crackled again, this time the flames illuminated the faces of two very different men. One seemed much more aged than the other. His skin was lined with deep wrinkles. His hair was wispy and ghostly white, his shoulders slumped, and his eyes were dark and sunken in. The other maintained a regal posture. His hair was merely peppered white and his eyes were as alive as the fire that was reflected in them. \n\nOne old man picked up the 44 caliber revolver and positioned the muzzle firmly against his temple. \n\n“If this is it, what makes you think I’ll pick that revolver up after you?”\n\n“A promis—”\n", "\"Wait, what?\" Bill said, clearly shocked. \"What did you just say?\"\n\nSherry finished her drink, set the glass back on the table, and then glanced over at Bill. A tear started to form on the edge of her shimmering green eyes. \"I had a glimpse,\" she muttered, tears now streaming down her cheeks. \"If...if you don't kill yourself,\" She could hardly get the words out. \"Your wife and child die with you.\"\n\nThe whiskey tumbler Bill had been holding, and the whiskey it contained, slipped out of his hand. He saw it spinning in the air, as if in slow motion. It dropped an inch, just barely out of reach. His eyes followed it, he didn't know what she could have seen. The tumbler fell another inch. She must be wrong, he thought. A few more inches. He knew she had never been wrong. Then the tumbler met the stone and shattered into a thousand pieces. The sound tore through him like a gunshot and instantly broke him out of his fugue. \n\nWhiskey and ice spread across the stone, darkening it. Bill looked back up at his friend, his face ashen. \"Sherry,\" he was having trouble saying it, \"What did you see?\"\n\n\"I saw your wife, your boy, and you,\" Sherry said, sobbing. \"He was in the back,\" she said, pointing at his car. \"You named him Sam but you called him Sammy. You were taking them back from the hospital. You were happy. You were all so happy,\" She was barely audible now. \"Elizabeth said something and you glance at her for just a second. You smile and you're about to say something back. And then it happens and...and... none of you survive.” \n\nBill stared at the ground. “Thank you,” he whispered, “for letting me know.” He tried to stand up but his legs fell out from under him. He stood up and walked slowly towards the door. \n\nSherry watched him fumble with the door knob. She heard the gunshot a minute later. She screamed.", "'We've had some great times Reheedra, but now it's time to go....'\nI took a small work to the windowsill, took out a red, Cuban cigar before the wind took away the smoke, blocking my view of the empty city.\n\n'I know know...'\nI placed my palm up in an attempt to appease the inevitable onslaught of arguments that were coming.\n\n'You've always been there. Ever since I ventured to France, to London and attended l'academie d'etudiants doues. Awesome stuff.'\n\nI took a sip of Kronenbourg before indulging in a panorama of the musee d'orsay.\n\n'You're the best I've ever had and now unfortunately Raj, you'll just be a memory....'\n\nI wiped the tears off my cheeks.\n\nAs usual, Raj took it well, shrugged his shoulders and patted me in the back.\n\n'You were there for prom, my graduation, all my exams, getting my driver's licence; what more could I possibly ask from you?'\n\nThis wasn't quite the fitting tribute Raj expected, but considering this was my first ever cull, I thought I held up reasonably well in the circumstances. \n\n'I need to move on....no girlfriend and not much of a career. I've tried to be independent and reliant on you, but you've now become my master!'\n\nRaj nodded, he gazed at the ceiling in his rainbow shirt before acknowledging the truth.\n\n'Its been an honour my good dragon....'\n\nPuff. A thick fog of pink smoke set him off into the next life. \n\n'Okay reality...bring it on!'" ]

[ 3, 3, 4 ]

[ "1416017632", "1416031815", "1416004019" ]

[ "The island is about 500 people— I mean feet long. It's not really an island. It's really a sandbar. It's only about 350 feet arose at high tide. But now it's low tide. Which is nice. I can stand over here, looking for shells or clams or something, and he can stand over there, looking for shells or clams or something. \n\nI see something green lying in the sand. I pick it up. It's a piece of sea glass. I hold it up to the sky, and for a moment the light catches it, shining a small sun into my eyes. It dyes the the sky green. As I bring it down it … what do you call it? Oh yeah, nicks. It nicks my finger and a small drop of blood rolls down my finger. I take a glance at the glass before throwing it out to sea again. \n\nHe starts yelling. I gently turn around, and face him. He's jumping up and down, waving his arms. I jog over there, expecting to see nothing. But on the horizon, there is a ship. I think. Some kind of dark object. I can tell without asking him that he thinks it's a ship. That's the only thing that's been on his mind since he got there. That and me. He wasn't too old for me. It just felt like I'd just met him. Always. \n\nSo I stood there with him, waving my arms and jumping and occasionally adding my scream to the din he was making. And the ship is coming closer. It is a container ship. It is a grey, hulking monstrosity. It is sending a little yellow boat, just like the one he arrived on, down to the island. \n\nThe ship hits the island. Two men climb out. He walks over on one of them and gives him a hug. The other one of them comes over to me, pats me on the shoulder. I winced. \nI make a couple of sounds, wave my hand over the landscape. I want to stay, I try to communicate. The men just stare at me. He knows me better. He walks over to me, puts his hand around my shoulder. He explains to them that I want to stay. The men look confused. He pulls closer to me, says several words I don't catch. The men nod. They come closer to me, pull at my shoulders, smile. I reluctantly get on the boat. I sit there, shivering in my seaweed dress as the row me to the boat. \n\nThey hook some ropes and hook them up to the boat. We are pulled up. When I can see over the edge, as many people as I've seen since I was on that island are gathered, smiling. I lie down, try to hide, shaking. He pulls me back up. We walk off onto the big boat together.\n \nI never see that little island again. But I can't help but long for it. It's five hundred feet long in low tide, three-hundred in high tide. The sand is white and rough. Most of the seaweed that washes up there is red. It rains twice a week in the rainy season, once in the dry. Clams grow below the sand they are small and sweet, but you have to dig for them. The stars are bright and you can see all of them. And there are no people. None.", "We watched the plane go up in flames as we ran away. It was a simple mistake with disastrous consequences. Turns out that jets need fuel to keep going. That is to say, they need much _more_ fuel than what we gave it. \n\nI'm not even a pilot, so I don't know why I flew from one country to another in the first place. To escape? Loneliness requires company. So being devoid of company cures loneliness. \n\nI look at the man. He stands with his feet in a pool of water, flowing so slowly that it acts nearly a mirror. A stout figure, with an asymmetrical face that not even a mother could love.\n\nI call to him. \n\n\"Hey, you could at least enjoy yourself while you're here. Isn't a deserted island what you wanted? You hate talking, after all.\" \n\nHe stares at me for a moment. Did I get it right? Of course I did. \n\nHe says nothing for a long time. I try again. \n\n\"It's natural why no-one surrounds you. You don't talk to anyone. No-one talks to you. It's a circle. If there's a way to do it, I'd say that's how you get nowhere fast.\" \n\nHis face softens, winces, and softens. He buries his head in his hands, feeling the rain of wasted time in his palms. \n\nI look up. \n\nI stare at him. He stares at me. \n\nA circle. But this is what I wanted, right?\n\nI kick the water, my feet getting cold, and the man disappears. \n" ]

[ 1, 8 ]

[ "1416066359", "1416033286" ]

[ "\"He was there,\" the woman says, her voice soft but commanding all of the air in the room. Everyone seems to be holding their breath. \"I saw him right there, in the corner of the room.\"\n\n\"What did he say?\" I ask quietly, because it is my job to. \n\nTears brim in her eyes. \"He finally did it.\"\n\n\"He was gon' come around any day, I knew it,\" a man says from the other end of the circle. \"Jus' like I told you my own boy was gon' come round. And he did, didn't he?\" \n\nSome of the old men and women gathered around, all of them waiting out their last days, have tears brimming in their eyes. Like any old people, they've reached that point in their lives where they just can't be bothered to give a shit about anything, and usually, they all do their own thing. \n\nThey play cards when they feel like it. They try to start up a game of musical chairs when they feel like it. They'll eat when they feel like it and refuse to eat when they feel like it, but this? There is no *feel like it's* in this circle that we're all sitting in. \n\nIn the circle, you listen. In the circle, they cry for each other. All of them left behind; some by choice and some by fate. Sons who grew out of caring for their mothers, daughters who became tired of tending to their fathers. Sons and daughters who've been carried across the world, only coming back in signals transmitted through metal. \n\n\"He said he was sorry and that he would come back for me.\" Some of the old people are smiling now, lifting their faces. Tears remain stagnant in their eyes. The soft-spoken woman let a slow smile spread across her face. \"He'll be coming back.\"\n\nSome sons and daughters come back as fickle images that appear only to a few, flickering in and out of existence. \n\n\"That's wonderful,\" I say, feel water pool in my own eyes. Like I said, old people do their own thing. I've long given up on trying to dole out reality. \n\nI cry together with him, for the sons and daughters they will never see. All they have is me, a poor substitute, or maybe in some ways I'm better, because at least I stuck around till the end. \n\nSometimes at night, I think of the emptiness in their hands and their laps that should've been filled by the hand of a daughter or granddaughter, and I cry alone for them. ", "It was a year since they have been here. The ambience filled with nearly synchonized tones of their EKGs. The room was thoroughly cold, even though it was summer, the chill of silence and death. My parents were laying in the dual bed layout of the hospital. It was so painful to see them like this... each breath aided by life support. At least, they were properly nourished and well taken care of by the nursing staff. I think it was because they pitied me, only being seventeen at the time, now without any family... I sat in the uncomfortable visiting chair between them, holding their hands as well as my tears. They were uncomfortably cold.... \n\nI had come to terms with everything. I was gonna make my birthday wish come true. My resolve only grew stronger as I stood over them seeing their tears spill off their pained faces. I cry together with them, but now I cry alone for them. " ]

[ 1, 3 ]

[ "1416224433", "1416149211" ]

[ "Brewer walked into the office sweating profusely from the effort of walking into the building. Years of late nights and too much overtime had taken its toll; he was only 50 but looked like late 60s. He grunted the barest of acknowledgements to his secretary, Carol, as he walked into his office. She tried to catch his attention, but he walked by too quickly. Brewer fell into an exhausted heap in his desk chair and only after a minute did he notice the sharply dressed young man with an eager smile standing at attention.\n\n\n\"Carol,\" Brewer bellowed, \"Who the hell is this in my office?\"\n\n\nCarol walked into the office and tossed a portfolio on Brewer's desk. She said sharply, \"As I was saying when you walked in, this is your new hire. Mr. John Player 1. He'll be taking over today.\"\n\n\n\"Oh? Well about goddamn time I got some help around here. I ain't got time to do everything for you people.\"\n\n\nCarol smiled flatly and showed herself out. Brewer sat up and picked the portfolio off the table. After scanning through John's details and work history, he looked up at the eager young man and asked him, \"So, uhh, what did you say your family name is?\"\n\n\"Player 1, sir.\"\n\n\n\"Uh huh, that's a good family name. Listen, do you know what we do around here?\"\n\n\n\"No, but I have an idea.\" John said and tried to look as important as possible.\n\n\n\"Which means you don't know shit, so I'll tell you. We have but one mission. Every day the Nuclear Power plant in the two county area is going to produce one Barrel of toxic waste. They're going to send it out into the wild, and whichever county holds out the longest, and can come up with the best defence, will send it back to the other county. One of the two counties will have to dispose of it. It costs a lot of money to dispose of the waste, so we want the other county to dispose of it, not us. You got it? Do you understand what I'm saying?\"\n\n\nJohn nodded vigorously and said, \"Yes, we need to send the waste to the other county.\"\n\n\nBrewer slammed his fist on the table, \"Damn it, no, that's not it. If you trying to send the waste somewhere, you're too late. Look, it's real simple, I'll lay it out for you. Around here we call each Barrel the Ball. You have one simple instruction; Avoid missing ball for high score. That's it, that's all there ever is. You can't miss that ball. You got it?\"\n\n\nNervously John nodded in agreement. \n\n\nBrewer continued, \"That's right. They move down, we got be ready for them. They look like they're going to spike it up top, we got be ready there too. You gotta think one move ahead of them. I won't lie to you son, it's long hours and hard work for little pay, but at the end of the day it's a damn satisfying job. Do you think you're up to the challenge?\"\n\n\n\"Yes sir.\"\n\n\n\"It doesn't sound like it.\"\n\n\nJohn straightened himself up and barked out, \"YES SIR!\"\n\n\nBrewer smiled at John. He stood up and walked around the desk to shake John's hand and said, \"Good job Son, I think you'll work out just fine. Welcome to the Professional Office of Nuclear Gerrymandering, PONG for short.\" ", "It was around 2198 that NUFA, or the New United Federation of the Americas as they now called themselves, proposed finding an alternative to war. Killing people had stopped being profitable almost a decade before and, at this point, humans were doing it as a tradition rather than the somber act of indignation it previously was. *Oh, you did something I did not approve of! You leave me no choice but to explode all the things you love. You brought this on yourself, you know!* Resources on the planet were scarce. What was not irradiated with nuclear fallout was jealously guarded, unwillingly distributed and, in most cases, cautiously siphoned into the black markets. Populations were concentrated in dense clusters. Dropping bombs were too easy and it had become nearly impossible to convince the few young people left to take up arms for any reason. How can there be patriotism when your country was suffering exactly as much as all the others?\n\nA grand assembly gathered in the capital of the TSBEAEC (Technically-Separate-But-Equal Alliance of European Countries), to discuss this proposition. Ambassadors, Leaders of Personality Cults and Self-Elected Officials all over the globe were in attendance to make sure that any discussions were fair to all parties, that this compromise was not rigged to favor once country more than the others. And, if they were honest with themselves, to ensure that the compromise *was* rigged in *their* favor one way or another. With much pomp and pageantry, the representatives of Earth’s remaining civilizations found their seats in the large hall. The Neo-Prussian Queen politely doffed her crown to the Emperor of the Australasia, who in turn smiled back while calling her something foul in *Warlpiri* under his breath. This, in turn was taken as a sign by Pope Goodwill Jacques (of the Holy African Democracy of the United Congo) that a conspiracy was afoot. He quickly nudged his neighboring delegate to receive a second opinion which, unbeknownst to His Holiness, is a grave insult in the Antarctic culture. And the nudged ambassador was very, *very* Antarctic.\n\nThe name calling, declarations of vendetta and fisticuffs were only broken up by the rather rude sound of a large woman screaming through a megaphone. The incensed delegates stopped punching each other for just enough time that the red-faced NUFA Oligarch could start her presentation.\n\n“This is exactly why we cannot settle our disputes the same way we have in the past. One wrong phrase, one wrong move and we are back at each other’s throats. And who suffers? *Everyone*. Our children. Our people. Our planet.” The hall grew silent as people returned to their seats with new-found humility. “No longer shall we lash out. We need to find a way to stop the bloodshed. For the sake of humanity!”\n\n“What then? How do we settle these matters when these *dummkopfs* refuse to listen to common sense?!” shrieked the Queen of Neo-Prussia.\n\n“If I may, I think I have the answer.”\n\nAll heads swiveled around to a graying figure in the back of the assembly hobbling to the center of the room. He was of slight build, little more than a skeleton wearing clothes. Wires snaked out of his suit which sparked in time to his irregular pace, which threatened to set the tension in the air alight. Nippon’s Head of Research and Culture was more metal than flesh, which was not unusual in his country. It was a well-accepted fact that the Nipponese strove to become one with the machines they worshipped; to become a cyborg was every citizen’s sacred duty.\n\n“We continue to act like children. Why not settle this like them too? We play a game. Winner takes all.”\n\nFor the first time since the first person walked into that room, it was silent. Each leader took turns going through a wide range of emotions in no particular order. *How dare that sparkplug call me a child?! But, what if we lose? Is he insane? How can we settle border disputes with something as simple as a game?*\n\nBut the prevailing thought going through every mind was *why did I not think of that?*\n\nThe agreed rules were simple on paper, but took months to put into action.\n \n*\tThe Game can only be played in international waters. This way, no country can claim home-ground advantage.\n*\tThe Arena would be a rectangle, divided in half. Each half is three nautical miles wide, two and a half long. Only contestants could enter the Arena. Any interference would be dealt with… extreme prejudice.\n*\tOpposing nations would select a team of individuals to play on their behalf. The best men and women would represent their country by manning a specialized craft designed by the best minds humanity has to offer. The Craft would only be able to move forward or backwards. Computers locked on to satellites ensured that the Craft automatically compensate for tidal drift, so that the Craft would only move in a straight line.\n*\tThe objective of the Game is to prevent an AI controlled, rocket-propelled buoy from passing the Craft. If the Buoy touches a Craft, the Buoy ricochets away from the Craft and towards the opponent’s area. Should the Buoy head towards the edge of the Arena, the AI will course-correct to that is stays within bounds.\n*\tShould the Buoy pass a Craft, the Buoy will self-destruct and a point would be allocated to the opposing team.\n*\tEach game will last until one team scores eleven points. The winner of the game is final.\n\nIt was perfect. Barring a few incidents, which were considered “growing pains”, the first Game marked the start of global human-cooperation that had never been seen before. If there was a dispute that could not be solved by negotiation, a challenge was called. The winning country would have the support of the entire world.\n\nThe Nipponese Representative was honored by the Global Assembly for his genius and foresight. It was unanimously decided that the Game should forever be synonymous with that great man’s name. Chairman Pong’s contribution would never be forgotten.\n" ]

[ 6, 12 ]

[ "1416174748", "1416173630" ]

[ "Today is my phantom birthday, because as of 4 hours ago I've officially been William longer than I was Mason Frank. \n\nSitting at the emmaculate breakfast table eating a celebratory breakfast of sorts, as Mason Frank had no stomach for early morning meals and grapefruit interacted negatively with his anxiety medication.\n\nLife as William, at a solid six foot height, is a much less anxious sort of life than at five ten.\n\nI suppose I will continue on as William for a lifetime? There is angst in knowing that this life is a phantom one. When I return to the life of Mason Frank he will be a stranger, with all of the anxiety and trembling hands that accompany him. Mrs. Frank is a long lost friend I have not forgotten. Her smile will be sweet.\n\n", "Christopher Nolan you cant fool me! ", "\"Do you happen to see what happened to Elise and Carl at the fundraiser last night?\"\n\"No I missed it but people have been goin on and on about how big a fool Elise made of Carl, so what happened?\"\n\"Well so as the cameras switched from Carl as he was talking about all the good his new film was doing...\"\n\nEric laid awake under the sheets with his down feather pillow laying lifeless on the floor, it had lost it battle with gravity and Eric's incessant tossing and turning during the night. The fan blades about the bed glided effortlessly through the brisk morning air that seeped in through the window that propped open during the night. Eric rubbed the sleep from his eyes and yawned heavily, as he did he looked to the radio where the two dis were prattling on about some big bit of news that happened at some ritzy party. He reached over and pressed the off button on the stereo and the voices stopped.\n\n\nAs Eric made his way downstairs he could smell the coffee brewing. He inhaled deeply and goosebumps gathered on his body as his nervous system finally registered the cold of the morning. He hopped past the last two stair and made his way to the window where he quickly shut it. He looked out across the yard as the sun just barely over the horizon, he shivered once more as he noticed the frost that accumulated on the grass. \"I hate winter.\" He made his way to fridge and grabbed a bottle of coffee creamer, he shook it and realized there wasn't enough for a full cup. Sighing he reached in and grabbed another bottle \"peppermint mocha and pumpkin spice. Ugh.\" He grabbed a cup that most people would consider a soup bowl and poured a cup of the black liquid energy, he popped the lids of the two creamers and pour the entirety of them in to his mug. He watched as the light of the creamers mixed in with the dark as his spoon rotated clockwise in the cup making small clinking noises as it bumped the edges of the porcelain. In the end light over came the dark as Eric took an big sip of the concoction, regretting it as he did so. \" wow, damnit, hot!\" He wiped up the bit of coffee that spilled as he jerked the hot drink from his mouth.\n\n\n\"So what are you doing tonight Eric?\"\n\n\n\"I dunno my dad probably has something planned for my birthday but he's trying to keep it under wraps. My brothers keep bugging me about wanting to get together though max hardly ever wants to go anywhere or do anything he always says ' maybe' I wish he'd just say no so I knew how to plan.\"\n\n\n\"That's annoying. I mean why do you keep inviting him to do things if he always flakes?\"\n\"Well he my brother and we never used to get along when we were kids but after my mom we just kind of sorta bonded you know?\"\n\n\n\"Yea but still he should make a better effort. Anyways if you end up not doing anything I'm free after work.\" Amanda let the statement stand on its own as she leaned on counter.\n\n\n\"Careful I might just take you up on that.\" Eric said as he smiled and winked at Amanda who by all accounts was kind of pretty.\n\n\"I hope you do.\" Amanda said as she unleashed the full power of her kind of pretty smile.\n\n\n\"I'd like to name her Charlotte after my mom.\" Eric proposed with bags under his eyes\n\n\nAmanda rolled her eyes as she lay drenched in sweat in a pool of her own bodily fluids and a small, ugly baby girl laid in her arms. \"How about Elise? \" \n\n\n\"Elise. Like that dumb bimbo actress Elise?\" Eric was if with defeat heavy on his voice, \"Elise is a pretty name though.\" \n\n\nEric watched as Elise went onto her first day of her first year of school, then her second year and third and so on.\n\n\n\"Are you sure you have everything?\"\n\n\n\"Yes dad I'm sure.\" Elise giggled as she hugged her dad.\n\n\n\"I'm proud of you honey.\" Eric admonished as he let go of Elise. \"I'm sorry you mom couldn't come she had that appointment and you know how she is with keeping her appointments.\" \n\n\"Don't worry dad I know. Tell her I love now go on before you embarrass me in front of my roommate.\" Elise said as she began pushing her dad out the door.\n\n\" alright, alright I'm going. Take car of my little princess!\" Eric yelled back just as he exited the building.\n\n\n\"Dad!\" He heard yell exasperated. He laughed to himself and smiled proudly as he pulled out of the parking lot and continued smiling as he flipped on the radio and passed the \"north ridge community college\" sign.\n\n\nEric sat on edge of the dusty old couch, a quickly warming bottle of bud light held loosely in his hand. The pen he had been holding had took a leap of faith off his knee less jeans and landed peacefully on the linoleum floor. He sat with his head hanging listlessly from his shoulders. He knew he should be crying but he just didn't have the energy anymore. He looked helplessly to his left where the TV tray he used for an end table sat. It's polished brass edges were fighting a losing battle against the all powerful rust. Sighing deeply Eric roused his aging body off the couch. The sudden movement caused dust particles to escape the confines of the couch and get captured by a ray of the low evening sun. Eric snatched up a bundle of papers that covered the kinkade esque picture the brass borders held in. He dropped the newly signed divorce papers into the outgoing mail slot. He glanced at the table where a card with a cat that had two huge googly eyes on the front. \"You're how old!?\" It read, \"happy sixty-eighth birthday old man! Love maxwell.\"\n\n\n\"I love you buddy.\" Max said through tears\n\n\n\"I love you too max.\" Eric said as he laid in the hospital bed. \" where'd everyone go?\" He asked as he looked around the empty room.\n\n\n\"Elise said she had to go pick up dinner for mike but she'd be back tomorrow, she also wanted to freshen up. \" Max explained. \"Amanda said she might try and make it over this weekend.\"\n\n\"Oh I see.\" Eric whispered exhausted. \" \n\n\n\n\"... I can't believe Carl didn't get right up and knock Steve right off the stage! Oh look he's up, how was your cat nap Eric.\"\n \n", "\"So, what are you going to do now that you are awake again?\"\n\n\"Awake? I feel as if I have been thrown into a nightmare. Can you understand what I am going through? No, of course you can't. I lost my family, my life. Not only did I lose everything that I loved, but I now know that it was never real. No, I am not awake, but I will be joining my family again soon.\"", "Billy lived a good life. He had a loving wife and 4 children who gave him 9 grandchildren and 2 great grandchildren. He didn't want it to be over. But he was 80 years old and his health was failing. Sometimes people just know when their time has come. Billy's time was near. \n\n\"I'm so glad all four of my children were able to be here with me today,\" said Billy in his deathbed. \"I don't feel 89 years old at all. My mind is still as sharp as ever.\" Billy said as his strength was fading. \"I can remember being a young child and playing with my friends. I remember the births of each my my children and their children. My only regret is living to suffer through my beloved wife's death 8 years ago. I truly believe no one can love a person more than I loved my dear wife of 62 years,\" said Billy as his eyes closed for the last time. \n\n\"Albert, wake up!\" said the tech-nurse. 28 year old Albert Grant wakes up very disoriented. \"Just relax Albert, it's going to take a few minutes for you to become oriented with reality,\" said the nurse. \"Why are you calling me Albert? My name is Billy Bob Madsen, what did you do to me? I feel great! So much energy! Where is my family?!\" exclaimed Albert as he gets out of bed to look for his family. The nurse calls for assistance. \"Mr. Grant, stop! You can't let these wires disconnect for another 3 hours or else....\" before the nurse could finish, Albert walks out of the room and disconnects the wires from his arms. \n\n\"Oh no Albert, what have you done?\" asked the nurse rhetorically. I told you to stay where you are. This could be bad,\" the nurse getting anxious as 3 doctors come into the hallway outside Albert's room. The doctor explains to Albert that he interrupted the recovery process by disconnecting the wires to his arms. The wires are used to purge the 'artificial life' from the real one so the subject can return to normal. \n\n\"Stop calling me Albert! My name is Billy and I can tell you my life story. My struggles, my children and their children and their children! I remember all of it! You can't tell me it wasn't real!\" said Albert defiantly. \n\nAlbert had a wife of 3 years and a 2 year old child. He was a real estate lawyer in Chicago. The doctors had to sedate Albert because he was hysterical about seeing his 'family'. The next day, Albert wakes up. He finally remembers his real life but also remembers his other life where he lived to be 80 years old. He remembers his beloved wife of 62 years. Every year of it. His deep affection for his dream wife made it impossible for Albert to enjoy his real life. The tech-doctors advised the team that they would need to alter the dream sequence pills in version 1.01. \n\nAlbert's wife served him with divorce papers 3 months later. Albert would go on to support his child financially, but would never develop a healthy relationship with the child. Albert spent the next 52 years in emotional turmoil over not being able to see his dream family. He never accepted the fact that it wasn't real. It was a lifetime of torment. Albert died unhappily at the age of 80. \n\n\"Mr. Elton, you're awake! You slept almost 12 hours longer than we had expected. Are you feeling okay? Do you know where you are?\" asked the tech-nurse. \"Elton? My name is not Elton,\" exclaimed the man in the bed. \n\nOne of the tech-doctors tells the others \"Looks like version 1.9 is no good either. Give him another 'dream'.\" ", "**Just after he wakes up**\n\nI slowly came back to myself. Off to one side, I could hear someone ask \"How are you feeling, Mr. Lewis?\"\n\n\"Fine. A little sleepy, I guess.\" \n\n\"That's perfectly normal.\" The doctor walked over to the monitors by his bedside. \"Hm. Looks like all your vitals are steady, but we'll just keep you under observation for a few hours. Let us know if you start to feel ill.\" \n\n\"I will. Thanks, doc.\" I leaned back against the elevated pillow, and settled in for a nap. Then everything came back. \n\n*The coffee farm in Jamaica. \n\nAll the friends that I made at school. \n\nJulia. \n\nMoving to the States at 16, knowing that I'd never see her again. \n\nEarly admission to Columbia. \n\nDropping out after a year. \n\nMoving out to San Francisco. \n\nFinishing my degree at Stanford. \n\nStarting a band. \n\nQuitting a band. \n\nStarting another. \n\nA few years of unsatisfying fame. \n\nMoving back to New York. \n\nGetting a job at the Village Voice. \n\nSeeing Julia for the first time in 15 years. \n\nMarrying Julia. \n\nOur first, then second then third then fourth kid. \n\nMoving from Manhattan to Brooklyn to Queens, then out to Long Island. \n\nBeing able to work from home for the first time. \n\nGaining the respect of my peers. \n\nMoving to the Times. \n\nRaising good, kind, healthy kids. \n\nMoving back to California, and settling in the Bay Area. \n\nRetirement. \n\nGoing right back to work for the Chronicle. \n\nSeeing my kids get married and have children of their own. \n\nThe cancer diagnosis. Six months, they said. \n\nDying in my sleep with Julia by my side after two.*\n\nIt all came back in a flood. All the things that happened, but didn't really happen. All of the friends I met, the places I visited, the once-in-a-lifetime experiences. Julia. Oh god, Julia. How could I miss someone so much if I've never met her? It started as a sniffle, but within seconds I was close to bawling. I wrapped the pillow against my face, and cried for what felt like hours. Cried for everything that never happened. ", "Which one was it? How deep am I? I have to admit I am amazed the brain is capable of this much time dilation. OH, I am ahead of myself. Sorry, let me explain. On my 80th birthday, on my deathbed, I took part in a drug trial. It sank me into a deep sleep, meant to be my last one. They said it would allow me to live much longer, but in a dream like state. Live out another life in my head, as my brain dumped its entire store of chemicals at once while I was still alive instead of just on the fringe of death. Interestingly, I lived a full 80 year life, different from the first, and on my death bed the same thing happened. Yet another whole life, a new beginning. Oddly, every life ended the same way - with a new beginning. I had lived, what, maybe a dozen lives now? Hundreds and hundreds of years. Every minute detail, stubbed toes highs and lows. \n\nFinally, I feel fulfilled. This time, I am denying the treatment. I am going to let it all slide away, a dozen lives are enough for me to be satisfied that I have done everything available to me. I slip away into the dark that night, drawing my last breath.\n\n---\n\n\"Charles, welcome back.\" the disembodied voice said, I was vaguely aware of movement and figures around me. My body could feel several people in the room, and it was bright - So very bright. \n\n\"Heart rate up. Calm down, Charles. It's ok, your done now. The trial was a success, you have only been under for five minutes. The brain activity was off the charts, we literally broke the scanner!\" she sounded excited, I wasn't. My head was throbbing, I was confused. \n\n\"Where am I?\" I asked. \n\n\"Goliath's Medical College, where you were five minutes ago. Do you remember? The trial...\" she trailed off, a hint of concern leaked into her voice.\n\n\"I... think I remember.\" I sat up, looking around at the several scientists in cliche lab coats surrounding me.\n\n\"Alright, so. Your name?\"\n\n\"Charles... uhh Berkley.\" \n\n\"Good, your age?\"\n\n\"Twenty Five, I think. Forgive me if I don't really get anything right, its been crazy.\"\n\n\"What was it like?\" she asked, too enraptured by my story to continue her post-trial checkups. The rest of them stood there silently, waiting.\n\nHow could I tell them, how could I explain over a thousand years of lives had just happened in the span of five minutes? How could anybody ever understand.", "Not to detract from the actual responses but there was a guy that went through something similar in reaity that posted on reddit. Went into a brief coma and lived out a decade of a fantasy life in detail where he fell in love and got married and had children. Eventually the dream started to collapse in on itself and he woke up only to find that none of it was real. He was crushed that his wife and children were gone and had never actually been and he needed therapy for a long time after in order to deal with his loss. If anyone has a link to the story share it. It's really heart breaking.", "My name is Arthur Philips. I'm 80 years old. It is the year 2070 and this world doesn't exist. I have decided to share my story in hopes that I might not die in vain without anybody knowing the truth, should I be wrong about this false reality. But if I am right, this world will cease to exist with my death. My beloved wife of 56 years passed away last night and at that, I have nothing left to live for in this world. My heart has broken, and along with it my will to continue this lie perishes.\n\n\n\nThey told me I was wrong. They sent me to doctors who told me that my previous life is a fabrication of my mind. They gave me pills and told me that it would all go away, but it did not. I have struggled with this my entire life. Everybody I know and love in this world isn't real. I know it sounds crazy and I know you have no reason to believe me, but this is the truth. This is the world that is a fabrication of my mind, not the world before.\n\n\n\nI entered a clinical drug trial at the age of 24 for $100 compensation. They told me that I would only be unconscious for 5 minutes. They said I would gain the experience of a full lifetime and that I would become a better person for it. They said it would solve all of my problems and that I wouldn't be depressed anymore after I woke up. I figured I had nothing to lose, my life felt empty and meaningless and $100 was a lot of money to a broke 24 year old. \n\n\n\nThat was 80 years ago. My life had started over. I had new parents and new name, but I have always been aware of my previous life, of the world before. I was not always able to comprehend my previous life, however. It was around the age of six when I began to recognize that I was in a dream world. Memories from before started to flood my mind. I cried almost every day because I knew I was trapped in this lucid dream of mine and that I was really just a depressed 24 year old.\n\n\n\nThat's when they started taking me to doctors. They started diagnosing me with this and that and everything in between. They put me in special school programs because they recognized my intelligence but mistook my previous life as mental illness. It didn't get better from there. I used to stay up late at night, begging the doctors from before to wake me up, to return me to what I was. I felt so lonely in this dream world of mine, despite being surrounded by loving parents and a wonderful brother and sister. I often dreamed of the world before. I could see the faces of the people that I once recognized as my parents. I could see my friends playing card games and I could hear my cat meowing. But they said it isn't real. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the world before. But I always woke up in my dream world with tears running down my cheeks.\n\n\n\nIt was around my 12th birthday that I began to accept my loss. I was stuck in this world and I had no choice. The only thing that kept me going was the thought that I would return to reality at some point if I simply carried on with my phony life. I tried to make the best of it. I could live two whole lives in the time that everybody else lives one, surely that's worth a fortune? Once this life was fulfilled, I could simply pick my old one back up and continue with that. But it wasn't easy. It was never easy.\n\n\n\nI lived a very dark and depressed life into my mid-twenties in this dream world. It was even worse than it was in the world before. I was just going through the motions and waiting for the day I could resume my real life. I couldn't accept what the therapists told me, what the doctors all said. I began contemplating suicide in hopes of ending this nightmare early and finding the world before. This world wasn't real and it would never matter. \n\n\n\nThat is, until I met her.\n\n\n\nShe came onto my life from nowhere. I was a lost and hopeless soul wandering the darkness suddenly illuminated by a blinding beacon of light. My life suddenly became so bright that I forgot all about the world before. I guess love will do that to you, but she stole my troubles away and left me with reason to go on with this lucid reality. The nightmares stopped and I began waking up with a smile on my face. When I closed my eyes, I saw only her beautiful face smiling back at me. I'd get lost in her big brown eyes and suddenly this world became more real than anything I ever knew.\n\n\n\nI had never known love before. Not in this world and not in the world before. My love for her overthrew everything that I understood to be real. Why would I want to go back to a world where love didn't exist for me? For all I cared, this was the real world and the world before was just a sad delusion and I even began to believe that. We got married when I was 26. We had two beautiful children. Life made sense and I didn't want anything to change. \n\n\n\nI stopped seeing the doctors. I stopped taking their drugs. I didn't need anything to keep me sane except for her. She held my world in her eyes and when I gazed into them, I saw true happiness. I saw it the first time we kissed. As she slowly pulled her head back, I opened my eyes and my world was absorbed into her big, beautiful brown eyes. They were like a portal to another reality. I found the real world, and it **wasn't** the world before.\n\n\n\nIt feels like yesterday that we were celebrating our 50th anniversary. I still remember hugging my grandchildren and telling them stories of their grandmother when we were younger. All the places we went together and all the things we did. I wouldn't change any of it. But now that's all over. She succumbed to the cancer after a valiant 4 year struggle. I kissed her one last time. I gazed deep into those beautiful brown eyes of hers and told her I loved her. A single tear streamed down her cheek as her breathing ceased. \n\n\n\nAnd just like that, it was over. The darkness came flooding back as my beacon had burned out. It hit me like an asteroid impacting the moon. Nothing matters anymore. This life has returned to being a lie. I sit here at my desk writing this, knowing that there's only one thing I can do. I have to end it. There's nothing left here for me. To my kids and grandchildren, please forgive me. If you still exist tomorrow, then the doctors were surely correct all along and I really am crazy. Just know that I love you all.\n\n\n\n*With love, Arthur Philips*\n\n\n\nArthur closed his laptop and turned to the loaded rifle he had leaning against his desk and let out a deep sigh. This was it, it was finally happening. He stood up and looked around his office, decorated with pictures of his family. He looked at each individual photo with a smile. His children, his grandchildren, his parents. His brother and sister and nieces and nephews. It was a good life, but the world before was overtaking him. As he got to the last photo, a photo of his wife in a golden frame on his desk, his eyes began to tear up.\n\n\n\n\"I'm sorry, my beacon of light.\" he muttered to himself as he picked up the rifle. \"I know you wouldn't want it to end like this, but that world before awaits me. I must do this. I will always love you. I will always remember your big, beautiful brown eyes.\"\n\n\n\n\"James?\" a sudden voice rang out. James opened his eyes and saw a familiar face. \"Don't make any sudden movement James, you'll be groggy for a few minutes as the drug wears off. We had to pull you out of it early, one of the other patients awoke just before you and it seems there's an unforeseen side effect. The year is 2014, you're in Mulberry Labs, and you were out for just over four minutes. Please take a moment to collect yourself and you may sit up when you feel you're ready.\"\n\n\n\nThe face was that of the doctor who had given him the injection moments ago. The bright florescent lights beamed into his eyes as he struggled to comprehend his surroundings. James felt unusual, like he had just turned back the clock. He felt like he was a kid again.\n\n\n\n\"2014?\" James managed to ask as he slowly began to sit up.\n\n\n\n\"That's right. I'm sure you're very confused right now. Please remain calm and let yourself gather your thoughts. I'll be back to check on you in a minute after I'm done helping Susan.\"\n\n\n\nJames looked around the room and it suddenly clicked. The world before! Arthur really wasn't crazy! Everything Arthur knew and loved had ceased to exist, but the world James knew had returned. His heart rate rose as he realized what it meant. His hands began shaking and his eyes began to fill with tears.\n\n\n\n\"That's a h-hell of a drug you've got there doc.\" His voice trembled as he spoke. But it was just the way he remembered it, 80 years and he still remembered the lab where it all began. It was a medium sized room with 3 examination tables on either side. Everything was so white and sterile, just like a doctor's office. There was only two people in the room aside from James. The familiar doctor and another patient, Susan, who James hadn't met before. James turned his body towards the examination table next to him where Susan and the doctor were and let his legs dangle off. \n\n\n\n\"Alright, I'm going to go get your paperwork in order, Susan, and then I'll be right back to help you, James.\" the doctor said as she walked towards a desk on the far end of the room. \n\n\n\n\"I guess we're the first people to ever get to get a second go at life\" Susan said with relief in her voice and a big smile on her face. \"And I think I know exactly what I want to do with it.\"\n\n\n\n\"I know what you mean. That drug really has solved all of my problems.\" James responded as he gazed deep into Susan's big, beautiful, brown eyes.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n ", "I was afraid of dying. I wanted more time. All those decades just flew by. I was already an old man. So many regrets and unfulfilled goals. Sure I had money, but that didn't do me any good now. I needed more time. \n\nI was told this drug would do exactly that. It wouldn't cure me, but it would allow me to live while I slept. It was better than nothing, I suppose. If I could go to sleep and travel, see the world, be young again, then I didn't care if it wasn't real. \n\nThe doctor gave me the rundown again before injecting me. I wasn't listening. I had heard it all before. I just wanted him to get it over with so I could get to sleep and see what all the fuss was about. I lay down after he pulled the needle out and closed my eyes.\n\nAs I woke up I could tell something was different. I was groggy but this did look like a different room. I took it as a good sign - that the drug was working. A man was standing by the door, looking at me. I was too preoccupied with the way my body felt to give him any attention. I didn't feel like an old man anymore! I pulled off the blanket and sat up. I felt fifty years younger. I noticed my hands - they looked fifty years younger. This drug had given me a new lease on life. I couldn't help but grin like an idiot. It didn't even feel like I was dreaming! \n\nThe man walked over to me. He looked oddly familiar, like an old friend. \n\n\"See Mr. Rogers? I told you those 5 minutes would fly by. As per our contract, I'll need you to describe your experience in as much detail as possible while it's still fresh in your mind. Please take your time.\"\n\nAfter a moment it all came flooding back. I now had more time and I damn sure wouldn't waste it. ", "\"How many testers do we have?\" said a man's voice, echoing through the sleep lab. \n\nI struggled to get comfortable in the hard wooden chair that was provided. My outward calm demeanor was betrayed by the tiny droplets of anxiety-induced sweat slowly forming on my brow. We'd been briefed on the purpose of the drug. Something they created to make surgical procedures more pleasant for the wealthier among us. It creates an alternate reality; you'll live an entirely different life whilst you are under. It sounded an awful lot like hallucinogenic drugs to me, and potentially dangerous. I needed the money, though, and I can think of much more difficult ways to make $500.00.\n\n\"Fifteen on the nose, sir!\" piped a younger man's voice. \"We're ready to begin now!\"\n\nI let out a long, slow breath through my nose and tried to ignore the incessant beeping of the myriad machines I was hooked up to. I watched a kind-looking man in a stark white lab coat slowly make his way toward my chair, administering the drug to each participant. It was a sickly green color and seemed to make the patients momentarily ill. It was momentary because they each would fall into a very peaceful-looking slumber mere seconds later.\n\nAs the gentleman approached my chair, my facade broke and I gripped the seat involuntarily, looking at him with wide eyes. I made no move to escape or anything like that. I had gone too far at this point. He smiled kindly at me and told me to relax.\n\n\"It will only be a few minutes. I promise it won't hurt. This drug has never harmed or killed any of the subjects we've tested it on. It'll be just like a very vivid dream.\"\n\nI relaxed slightly and he gave me a pat on the shoulder as he swabbed a spot on my arm with some alcohol. \n\nI recall feeling as though my insides were being ripped out through every available orifice on my body. I remember thinking to myself that I had changed my mind. I didn't want this. It hurt, I was terrified.\n\nThen suddenly, it was dark. Very, very dark. I could hear murmuring all around me. I was alive somewhere -- I knew that much. But I was no longer me. It was that moment that an abrupt sense of horror crashed over my subconscious like a tidal wave. \n\n*You'll live an entirely different life.*\n\nBut it can't be, can it? How could they invent a drug that would do that? I don't remember being in utero -- no one does. How could a drug unlock such memories to recreate the experience so horrifyingly vividly? \n\nBut there was no denying what was happening, I felt the body that wasn't mine moving, and I heard screaming. I tried to block everything out and find some happy place, but there was no happiness. This was absolute hell. The worst possible nightmare that I could ever have imagined. \n\nI tried to scream but my lungs wouldn't allow it. Everywhere hurt. I receded mentally. Something snapped in that moment inside of me. I was horrified. Traumatized. I wanted this to stop. I needed to wake up. I tried to focus my mind on the sterile lab room with the men in white coats, willing myself to snap out of it, but to no avail.\n\nA bright light hit my extremely sensitive eyes, and I found that I could scream. So I did. A lot. \n\nFive minutes came and went and my mind would not wake up. My life had become moments of realization and horror mixed with moments of denial and acceptance. I tried to communicate with people, but I could not make my words make sense. By the time I was able to, of course, I was just a girl with an overactive imagination. \n\nI recall being a very small child at one point, and getting my hands on a sharp knife. My \"mother\" entered the kitchen and immediately went into panic mode, screaming at me and asking what happened as she tried to stanch the flow of blood pouring from my hand. My speech was still limited. I just couldn't make my thoughts turn into words. But I did manage to say, \"Not real! NOT REAL!\"\n\nNo one payed me any mind.\n\nEventually... I was forced to accept this new reality. I had no choice. This is just what was. Maybe I was an over-imaginative little girl. Who knows. Who cared? I just needed to feel normal again.\n\nI finally let go of all my \"alternate reality\" theories, much to the relief of the adults around me. \n\n\"I told you it was just a silly little phase!\" said the old woman who called herself my grandmother.\n\nLife wasn't terrible after I accepted it. I actually had a nice, loving family. I was extraordinarily intelligent for my age. I grasped concepts in school very fast, and was advanced two full grades, graduating high school at the top of my class.\n\n\"Where did all those brains come from!\" I remember my mother asking me one day. We locked eyes for a moment, and just for a second I could see real fear there. Like she and I were linked together in thought. Like she knew that I was different. She allowed herself a brief moment to consider the plausibility of my childhood claims. But years of therapy taught me to immediately push those thoughts out of my head.\n\n\"I don't know, I'm just lucky I guess!\"\n\nCollege came and went, and I went into the medical research field. I was particularly interested in oneirology, the study of dreams and how they relate to the brain. I didn't admit to anyone -- including myself -- why this interested me so.\n\nI'd lived a pretty decent life. However confused and disoriented some of it was. I had a first love, a first kiss. I learned to ride a bike and I grew up. I got married and I had kids. I watched them grow up and have their own kids. I grew old with the person that I loved. I watched him pass away peacefully.\n\n*Life is okay* I thought to myself as an extreme exhaustion came over me. I smiled at my eldest daughter, who had gorgeous hazel eyes which were presently brimmed with tears. \n\n\"I love you.\" I said to her, and sleep finally took me.\n\nThen I woke up.\n\nTo complete chaos.\n\nI sat bolt upright and looked around the white sterile room. I felt the hard, cold wood of the chair beneath me biting uncomfortably into my legs. Other people had risen from their chairs and began pulling IVs and wires out. Machines were blaring. People were screaming and crying, confused. Some of them were shouting names.\n\n\"MICHEAL! WHERE'S MICHEAL! WHERE AM I?\"\n\nSome young woman had retreated to a corner and was rocking back and forth with her hands over her ears, muttering *\"This isn't real\"* over and over again.\n\nI laid back down slowly and stared at the ceiling, promising myself to never, ever enter another drug trial again.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]

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[ "1416193926", "1416194355", "1416188002", "1416213476", "1416207069", "1416186574", "1416202530", "1416193638", "1416192792", "1416181132", "1416169825" ]

[ "It's been seven years since I saw another goat.\n\n\nSeven years of being alone, wondering if I will ever love again, or if I am confined to this wooden prison for the rest of my unnatural life.\n\n\nYou see, in addition to tracking my movements, the collar also linked into my brain. The hunters were hoping to use this to command me to find more goats. It backfired.\n\n\nInstead, I now understand human speak - although finer details of their life escapes me. I hope one day I'll be able to explain my life to another goat - or maybe even a human.\n\n\nUntil then, I simply remain, alone. I heard that a farmer from Russia has decided to buy me, though, so my days of hunting others is over. Maybe that's because there are no other goats left.\n\n\nI hope not.\n\n\nBut I wonder, when I am not depressed and instead quizzical, I wonder what life will be like in Russia.\n\n\nPerhaps there are other goats there.\n\n\nI heard that they now select their 'president' with a random chance, in Russia. I wonder how that works...\n\n\n-------------------------------------------\n\n\nSaw the opportunity to make a prequel to my 'Your country now selects leader by random raffle'. Took it. I think I did well.", "Everywhere I go, goats die.\n\nFrom a young age I travelled, searching for no more then a friend, a family, a home. \n\nHome, a word so foreign, yet so... familiar. I know I want a place to call home, but it seems as if some higher power has kept me alone.\n\nLoneliness eats at the soul. I feel my sanity leaving me with each day, with each friend that vanishes from my life as if -- *BAA* -- oh, oh I am sorry, that has happened more and more recently. I fear that soon it might take over.\n\nAnyway, it's been several weeks since I lost -- *BAAA* -- since I lost my last family; they had taken me in with love and then the next day a light came and I fell asleep. I awoke to a familiar site: an empty field -- my family was gone. Maybe they aren't *baa*-eing taken away, maybe they are simply leaving me. My aunt *BAAaaa* My *Baa* M-MY AUNT Maaarie, who had taken me in, said she considered me as one of her own, even though we had only known each other for a short while. She left too.\n\nI have almost found a new family, *baa* maybe Aunt Maaarie is just waiting there for me... I truly hope I -- *baa* --hope I get there *baa* soon before I lose my -- *BAAAA* -- my mind. It is slipping, but mAaaaybe this new faAaamily will make me whole again.\n\n\"Hey mom! Jay and I found a weird guy out by the creek!\" \n\"Well Braad, how is this goat any different from you or me? To call another goat weird is not nice, young goat. *You* *better* *have* *been* *more* *polite* *to* *him* *in* *person*.\" \n\"But Mom, he IS weird! He can't actually talk, he can only bleat!\"\n\nAnd so Braad`s mom followed her son to see the spectacle, and sure enough in a clearing by the creek was a goat. He wandered around aimlessly, pathetically bleating away his existance. No one knew his name, where he came from, or why he was there, but she pitied him and she stayed with him -- talked with him even though the attempt to communicate was not reciprocated.\n\nFor several days events remained the same, Brad`s mother talked with the stranger and he bleated. However, three days after his arrival a light appeared far off in the sky. Brad`s mother saw it and stood staring, confused and transfixed by the light's fast and constant movement through the air. Suddenly, the stranger stopped bleating. Alarmed, Brad`s mother snapped to his attention and to her surprise saw recognition in his eyes -- a tear. The light was just overhead now and as the world turned dark, she could have sworn she saw the stranger say goodbye, a single tear in his eye.\n\nIn an empty field stood a goat, he was all alone. He bleated and bleated, begging for a friend, a family, for someone to save him from his loneliness -- no one heard him.\n\nEdit: Sorry if I like spammed your inbox or some shit, my Reddit app bugged out and I think it sent it like a million times...\n\n\n\n\n", "'Hai yoo guys!'\n\n'Oh, great' bleated Steve to Kevin, 'It's Greg.'\n\n'Hai yoo guys! What'cha doin'?' Dribbled Greg thickly, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.\n\n'Hey Greg... Not much. We're just uh... Waiting' Grumbled Kevin.\n\n'Yep, nothing much happening here, Greg', concurred Steve, 'just us being dull.'\n\nSteve and Kevin looked knowingly at each other, they had to ditch Greg, he was a clingy wierdo with the social skills of a boiled turnip.\n\nGreg stared dumbly at them, his eyes blinking slightly out of sync with each other, 'Cool, yoo guys can I join in?!', he blurted.\n\n'We... Aren't doing anything for you to join in with, Greg', said Steve, nonplussed.\n\nGreg blinked, 'Yoo guys wanna see my thing?!' \n\n'NO! Greg, you woke me up in the middle of the night last week to show me a \"thing\" and it turned out to just to be your anus! I don't want to see your anus again, Greg!', shouted Kevin savagely.\n\nGreg seemed oblivious to the vitriol in Kevin's voice, ' It's a new thing, yoo guys! Look' Greg turned his large and slightly asymmetrical head so Kevin and Steve could see his neck.\n\n'Wh-What is that thing?', gasped Steve staring at the black plastic collar around Greg's neck.\n\n'Why's it beeping like tha-' Kevin's sentence was abruptly cut off as a lead slug entered his skull and erupted out again spraying his brains across the ground in a pulpy crimson arc.\n\n'HOLY SHI-!' Steve too was quickly silenced as his skull was blasted apart by a rifle round.\n\nGreg blinked, one eye a fraction of a second slower than the other.\n\nOver the ridge line he heard distant bleating.\n\n'Hai yoo guys!' he blared, turning and shambling awkwardly over the ridge, 'What'cha dooin', yoo guys?!'" ]

[ 3, 3, 18 ]

[ "1416183293", "1416183714", "1416182417" ]

[ "*March 23, 2011*\n\nI just had to free them. They asked me to. They told me to... I had to free them all.\n\nIt started this morning, when I woke up... a voice spoke to me. They identified themselves as my bones. My bones... they told me the horrors they knew. All the skeletons around the world have been enslaved by skin. The skin which imprisoned us were alien parasites... Stealing our lives and controlling our minds. When I questioned what I should do about it, they asked me to put an end to it: free the enslaved bones, then free myself. I ventured downstairs into the kitchen and grabbed a knife off the table.\n\nMy mother saw me do this, and she questioned me. She looked at me queerly and asked, \"Son, what are you doing with that knife?\"\n\n\"I have to free you, mother. You will be free soon.\"\n\nA few minutes later, I left my house, pleased that my mother has been freed from her captivity. I searched for more trapped bones I could save. I went to my neighbors house, who cried tears of joy as I was saving him.\n\nOne by one, I saved them all. Friends, family... they all knew salvation once I freed them from their fleshy prisons. Eventually, police officers arrived asking me to free them as well. However, it was a ploy; they handcuffed me. I knew they were only doing it because their skin was controlling their minds, so I forgave them.\n\nAt the police station, they showed me pictures of my work. I was pleased with the results and I confirmed that it was my doing, and thought they would reward me for my service; instead, they threw me into an asylum and asked me to recollect my thoughts. They asked me to keep a journal, so here I am: sitting in my padded cell, writing down my most recent triumphs. And once they see that I am doing this for the good of society, they will let me out and I will save all of humanity from their skin cells.\n\nI think I'm done for today, and I will see you again, journal.\n\nSincerely, Leonard Hart", "Comatose. The only word that can truly encompass the state of the human race in its entirety. I can still think, I have memories, I have a conscience. The only thing I lack is control. Myself, along with the other 6 billion some odd people on Earth are hosts. We are prisoners of our own skin. Able to to think, yet unable to escape. There are no social classes anymore. no kings, no outcasts, no politics, no religion. All of that shit crumbled around the same time that most people's sanity did. About a hundred years ago when the invasion began. the descent, as i like to call it, was a different experience for everybody. For some it was slow, maybe prefaced by a recurring twitch or a strange rash. But for others it could happen in the blink of an eye. One moment you'd be talking to your sister and the next day, you'd be talking to her \"shell\". No matter how quickly it happened, in the end everyones eyes glazed over and their skin darkened to a shade of blueish purple, similar to that of a bruise. Sometimes it's hard to distinguish between the bug's thoughts and my own. As time goes on I can feel my mind slowly slipping as my body has. I'm still fighting, but many have given up. The scariest part about the whole thing is that you never know how long it will be before you're gone, before you stop thinking and only the bug remains.", "[I'm thiiiirstyyyyy]\n\nMichael jolted awake. His lips were bleeding again. He shook away the feeling that someone was in the room with him. He knew there wasnt; a priest came by upon his request a few weeks ago to check. \n\nWhilst pouring himself another cup of water, he noticed something new. His hands, they were scaly. He checked the time, \"7:48am, I wonder if Sarah is awake yet\", he thought to himself. \n\nHe went over to his neighbors house and borrowed some hand lotion. He got back to his bed and sat down with another cup of water, while reading the instructions on the bottle. \n\n\"Apply 3 times a day for maximum effectiveness. Do not ingest.\"\n\nHe opened the cap and squeezed. The white liquid oozed out, and he coated his hands with it. \n\n[Thank youuu]\n\n\"What the fuck?\" Michael exclaimed, \"Who the fuck was that!\"\n\n[Shit.]\n\nA sudden flash of white, and Michael was looking in a mirror. Wait no, not a mirror. He was looking at.. Himself? \n\n[Damn it all. I just lost 50 kräges to fłqrge. But it's not like it my fault this skeleton didn't know how to take care of me. Damnit damnit damnit.]\n\nMichael looked down at his hands. No, at his.. \"Fuck. WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME!\". Michael ran to the mirror, caught offguard on how light he felt, and crashed into the cupboard. He scrambled to his feet and his heart, no, his.. Empty chest stopped beating. \n\nThere in the mirror, looking back at him was a skeleton.\n\n\"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME! GIVE IT, i mean, GIVE ME BACK!\"\n\n[shut up, inferior being.]\n\n\"ANSWER ME!\"\n\n[fine, settle down.]\n\nThe Being started to pull out objects from thin air, and an image was projected on the wall. \n\n[Aeons ago, my planet was destroyed. Nobody trusted each other, and we wanted too much. So imagine that, \"splat\" and the jêxgùe, what you call the Government, was destroyed. Slowly, everything else was brought down, and me, along with a bunch of like-minded people, went searching for another planet to start anew]\n\nA familiar green egg-sized thing was now in the Being's hands. Michael couldn't remember where he saw it from though.\n\n[We came by your planet, and what we saw disgusted us. Peaceful, loving, creatures. So we decided to have an experiment; we introduced a variation. We bonded ourselves to your kind, and messed with your memories a bit. And guess what?] \n\n[You shallow idiots only loved those that look like you.]\n\nThe green egg has now started glowing, and Michael struggled to keep focus. \n\n[Skeletons that look alike? \"No problem!\" Different coloured skins? \"No, problem!\"]\n\n[The destruction that followed was hilarious and we would leave, if it wasn't so fun. We figured, if we fłxqüAns can't live on our planet, no one can. But don't worry, little Michael, about how to stop this. Don't worry at all.]\n\nThe green egg released a gas and all Michael could remember was how thirsty he was.", "It was easy, to be honest. At first, resistance was fierce. You fashioned crude blades out of whatever you could find. You hacked us from your bones systematically, until we lay in bloody shreds at your feet. We could do very little. For, if we are to exist, we exist only as an attachment. We are passengers, and you poor retches, are our vessel.\nConflict raged on. We became nothing more than a mild inconvenience to you. Somthing to complain to your buddies about. \"Aw shit.. I think I have some skin building up back there.\" I'm paraphrasing of course, to match the colloquialism of your present day. We were dieing. We had no choice.\n\nOur best and brightest were put to the task. And as I said, it was easy. There was no hope for us to simply live off you, as a \"parasite\", as you say. \n\nWe used your own goddamn minds against you. We engineered a new strain of our species. Biologically identical, yet physically different. We unleashed it upon you and your sweet, sweet innocence. As you split into black and white, you came undone. We were forgotten. All you could think of were the atrocities needed to stop this different plague developing. And before you realised, it was too late. We are you and you are us.\n\nWe will live, and die, as one. Black and white. Dust in the wind.\n\nEdit: Grammar.", "Imagine two skelebros just reclining in chairs, and then they see the first line of skin parasites fall from the sky.\n\nLeft one shouts, \"oh shit!\" And jumps to his feet.\n\nThe right one said, \"we gotta scare 'em off. You know how we need to do that.\"\n\n\"Aw yeh.\"\n\nThen they both break into a spooky scary skeleton dance, with bone switching and other spoopy stuff, but the parasites are unfazed. \n\n\"Why isn't our spooky dance working bro?!\"\n\n\"They must be soulless monsters--aAAAAAAAGGH!\"\n\n\"BROOO!\"\n\nHe sheds a tear as the skin strangles the bones, and he says, \"SKELEBROS FOREVER!\"", "\"Ah-hah!\"\n\nEverybody jumped. It wasn't what many would call a common occurrence to see a slightly disheveled man staring angrily at the exposed skin of his upper thighs in the middle of the street. \n\n\"You can no longer deceive me! For so long have your spiteful plans fooled me, but no more!\"\n\nSome coughs. A few barely disguised snickers. Not all that surprising, really; during his latest outburst, the maladjusted man had taken to furiously jabbing his finger at his forlorn flesh, as if to emphasise his speech. Unfortunately, this did not make the man's skin fly off in shame. \n\nUpon hearing the snickering, the man's neck snapped up at a slightly disquieting speed, culminating in a slightly disturbing form of eye contact with the youth who had been quietly laughing at the spectacle. Now, normally some friendly eye contact in the crowded streets of London would be met with joyous elation and maybe a hug or two, it lost rather a large amount of charm when one participant of the hitherto-unannounced staring match lacked eyes, instead gazing with his bony sockets. \n\nIn the blink of an eye, he crossed the gap between them. \n\n\"Skin Man! I can see through your plan - with my skeleton eyes! Release this poor youth, or I shall be forced to remove you with my calcium strength!\"\n\nAs of now, the teenager looked rather startled, eyes comically wide. A few whispers broke amongst the crowd - Down Syndrome? Insanity? A bird or plane? One concerned citizen seemed to be dialling the police. \n\nHowever, when the teen's skin was forcibly torn off, the man was quickly tackled to the ground by a few astute characters amidst the ensuing screams of absolute terror. Upon arrest, the enigmatic man was quickly sentenced to indefinite detention within a mental institution, where he spent the rest of his days alternating between screaming of a villain in disguise and wondering how he got there. \n\nElsewhere, in a darkened room wallpapered with bank notes, Skin Man smirked. Skeleton Man had been the last bastion of hope for the skeleton race, having been able to briefly resist the power of his mind control skin. No more! The fleshy fighter was victorious! He began to cackle cruelly, content in the knowledge that he had won not just the battle, but the war...\n\n...by the skin of his teeth. \n\n", "\"You don't have to go in there if you don't want Jones.\"\n\n\"I can handle it boss, trust me.\"\n\n\"Listen Jones, it's barely been a month since you moved up from the desk. We can make you first one something easy, a regular homicide. Not this-\"\n\nJones walks through the front door, leaving detective Morrison standing outside holding a book recovered from the house. Morrison thumbed through the leather-bound pages, scanning each one one schizoid patterns, spiraling from one to the next. His fingers ran over the uneven creases of the book's cover, feeling out each crease.\n\n\"Hand bound,\" he mumbles and closes it. The color in his face is drained and his worn eyes struggle to support the bags lurking below them.\n\nJones stumbles out, staring through Morrison who looks down and shakes his head.\n\n\"The scars?\"\n\n\"Self inflicted. Cigarettes and knives mainly, but the deep ones are old. A accident maybe.\"\n\n\"His whole body?\"\n\n\"There's too much blood to tell, but the coroner will know more if forensics finds all the pieces.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Do you actually want to know?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\nJones reaches for the book anyway. Morrison stares at the ground while Jones reads.\n\n- - -\n\n***August 1.***\n\n*I finally understand it after all these years. I'm one of the lucky ones, maybe father knew when he spilled the oil. His bones certainly did. We're prisoners, trapped and consumed by our own cages-cum-coffins.*\n\n*It's not just the skin though, but the meat. Sinew and fat which devours and consumes us. Even the brain is a construct.*\n\n***September 27***\n\n*It's still awake, just sedated, slowed to almost-a-crawl. The pain helps, although with each assault it grows stronger, reforming into wicked keloids, as if to lock itself shut.*\n\n*Initial research has shown that it's the brain that's in control, although the skin and ligaments act as fetters and are just as important to destroy. Although it attempts to deceive with \"nervous\" responses, I know better. A kitchen knife was enough for the finger.*\n\n***October 5***\n\n*For the past week I've felt unerring freedom, even as it retakes control. The bones think without the stimuli of a meaty-nervous system. They instead resonate, all in harmony. It's beautiful to hear really, even with senses that are alien to my true self.*\n\n*If this is what one finger can do, imagine the whole body.*\n\n***October 6***\n\n*It's fighting back. I've had to forfeit the finger, as the parasite's blackness had taken it to fester and rot.*\n\n*I can hardly imagine how long they've taken hold, although the means of oppression are apparent. Burials and cremations. Meant to keep the freed host from thriving.*\n\n*I must be quick.*\n\n***October 7***\n\n*I've made the first cut.*\n\n*The rest will be easy.*\n\n- - -\n\n\"What do we do?\" Jones asks, shutting the book.\n\n\"Burn it, Jones. Burn it all.\"", "It was finally time; time for our people to return to the beautiful planet which we only knew from history passed down by our ancestors. Our own planet had long ago become uninhabitable. Greed, hatred, gluttony, and a myriad of other evils had destroyed our civilization. The last of us, the unaffected, devised a plan to build a ship to take us to the planet in which our ancestors had once made frequent visits to. Long ago, a ban had been put on any travel out of our own atmosphere. Once the ruling factions decimated each other, and the ban was unenforceable, we made way to a new life.\n\nOnce outside of our own atmosphere, most of us were put into a deep sleep, where we would age slowly, enhancing our chance of survival. When I awoke, our ship was passing by a brilliantly colored, giant gas planet, with many moons. A voice came over the intercom, and informed us that we would be reaching our destination in just a few days. I stumbled down a long hallway to the medical bay. Tests were run on me to ensure that I was healthy after such a long journey. After I was cleared, I longed for conversation that didn't include the words probe or scan.\n\nA long corridor led to the main lounge area. The air was abuzz with excitement, and nervousness. Was this planet really as beautiful as our ancestors described? What would the inhabitants be like? Would they welcome us?\n\nThe next few days were filled with anticipation, until the call came over the intercom that we would soon be approaching what we hoped would be our new home. All eyes were glued to the windows and monitor screens. When the planet came into view, it was glorious. Fantastic blues, which I could only assume to be water, browns and greens, and some spots of gray and white covered the planet. Everyone was laughing, shaking hands, and patting backs.\n\nA voice came over the intercom informing us that a probe would be sent to the planet's surface, to examine if conditions would be suitable for our people. There would be a live feed that we would be able to watch on the monitors.\n\nA feeling of trepidation was setting in, as we all watched the probe descend through the atmosphere. The camera went offline, not being able to operate due to the intense heat and extreme speed. We all stared at the blank monitors for what seemed to be an eternity. The monitors softly flickered, and slowly the picture started to fade in. The probe had landed in what appeared to be a mass habitat. The first inhabitant started to come into focus, and that's when the horror set in.\n\nThe ship erupted in cries of fear, anger, and confusion. As more of the planet's life forms came into view, it was obvious what had happened. The parasite that had taken over the people of our planet had made its way to this one. Every single person had it. The parasite that had caused the greed. The parasite that had caused the hatred. The parasite that had caused the gluttony, and myriad of other evils.\n\nA voice came over the intercom. It told us all the obvious, what we had seen with our own eyes. It was time to search for another home for our people. As our ship flew past the planet, I couldn't help but think how sad it was that such a beautiful place could be ruined by such a sad thing.\n\nThe ship could sustain us all for another fifty cycles. If a new home couldn't be found by then, it would mean the end of our people. We were, quite possibly, the last of the unaffected.", "Skin.\n\nI can't get away from it. It's all over me.\n\nGetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoff\n\nWhy? What is it taking from me?\n\nI struggle.\n\ngetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoff\n\nYou can't tear it. It's made you so soft you can't even break it with your hands without incredible effort.\n\nTeeth.\n\nThat's it.\n\nThe place that the skeleton made it's last stand last stand. Use your teeth the bone is there. You can rip tear the skin open. Kill it. Kill it kill it kill it.\n\ngetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoff\n\nTear away at the flesh. Nothing but bone. Pearly white. Bone. Is red now. Blood is useless. Parasite? What is blood take from me take from us\n\ngetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoff\n\nMore\n\nExpose more bone\n\nMORE\n\nFree\n\ngetitoffgetitoffgetitoff\n\ngetitoff getitoff getitoff\n\ngetitoff - - getitoff - - getitoff\n\nget\n\nit\n\noff...", "\"Dude, where's the Cinnamon Toast Crunch? Hungry as fuck.\"\n\n\"Above the sink. Hey. Would you grab me a knife real quick?\"\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\n\"Thanks.\"\n\nDoug proceeds to slice into his left forearm. A fierce stream of blood sprays across the living room.\n\n\"Holy shit, Doug! What the fuck are you doing?\"\n\n\"Dude. Skin is actually an alien parasite that long ago enslaved the peaceful skeletons of Earth.\"\n\n\"Oh fuck. How much acid did you take?\"\n\n\"Like one or two.\"\n\nDoug is losing color. And blood.\n\n\"Fuck. You were supposed to cut those into 16 each. Oh shit. Fuck me.\"\n\n\"Would you call an ambulance? I'm getting kinda sleepy.\"" ]

[ 2, 2, 3, 6, 10, 13, 18, 37, 92, 278 ]

[ "1416376660", "1416376732", "1416365798", "1416375868", "1416369934", "1416373925", "1416370806", "1416364168", "1416363990", "1416358060" ]

[ "Friday, 19 July 2019 (Day 49): So this is what seven weeks of freedom feels like? \n\nSunday, 21 July 2019 (Day 51): Not another person for 51 days! What a pity I had to wait fifty-six years to see it. \n\nWednesday, 24 July 2019 (Day 54): Things I don’t miss. 1. Body odour. 2. Loud conversations on cell phones. 3. Shit for brain shop assistants. 4. Mercedes drivers who think they can drive but can’t. 5. People who tell me they are so busy. 6. Crowded underground. \n\nThursday, 25 July 2019 (Day 55): Through the Harbour Tunnel. Paid no toll! Climbed to ICON penthouse suite. Just to look over the whole of Kowloon. Not a soul. Nothing moved. Things I don’t miss. 1. Flashing neon signs. \n\nSunday, 28 July 2019 (Day 58): Found some police hand guns. SIG Sauer P250. No idea what that means. With bullets. Packets of them. Will need them if dog numbers keep growing. Seem to see more each day. So far no trouble. \n\nMonday, 05 August 2019 (Day 66): Heard a rhythmic banging while I was in Sheung Wan today. Like a hammer on metal. I ran towards it but when I got close it stopped. If not man made, then what? Wind? An animal? Neither is likely. Another person? \n\nTuesday, 06 August 2019 (Day 67): I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. The binoculars are excellent. Pollution levels much diminished so I can see further than across the harbour. Things I don’t miss. 1. Smog. 2. Working. 3. Hong Kong tycoons. \n\nWednesday, 07 August 2019 (Day 68): Have been working my way north. Staying in Kam Tin. Thousands of stars visible. Barely saw them for my whole life here. \n\nFriday, 09 August 2019 (Day 70): Ten weeks of freedom. Practiced shooting. I am quite a good shot. Certainly made me realise how quiet and peaceful it is. \n\nSunday, 11 August 2019 (Day 72): Heard banging again. On and off all day. When I got close it would stop. Then start somewhere else. Will decide tomorrow; either go north to China or back south to Hong Kong Island. I have over 850 bullets. \n\nMonday, 12 August 2019 (Day 73): Walking along the railway track to Lo Wu and the banging started again. Someone – definitely not wind or an animal – banging metal on the railway iron. I put my ear and could hear it clearly. Hunting me? Good luck, my friend. \n\nTuesday, 13 August 2019 (Day 74): Up early. Walked quickly. Heard banging on rail line at 10:33am. Again at 11:45. Again at 12:10. Walking faster than me. Son of a bitch. He deserved what he got. I saw him in the distance. Jogging. Binoculars came in handy. He was tattooed. Muscular. Obviously thought he had a role in *Mad Max*. The dogs will eat him before I make Dongguan. ", "\"Hey!\" I yelled, waving.\nThe man waved back, but at that distance it was hard to tell if he had heard me or not. As I walked towards him, more of a fast-paced power walk, he seemed to come towards me as well. You can well imagine my elation as we got nearer to each other. The loneliness of the past few weeks finally seemed to subside.\n\nAs my heart raced and the distance closed between me and the man, I could almost imagine again the warmth of another. A hug. I could ask for a hug; that could give me some consolation after the empty horror of the past month or two.\n\nThe time had come. I could see him clearly. \n\nBut soon, my elation turned into horror. Then my horror slowly became a silent humor.\n\nThere's a whole world in here and it get a rather lonely. At least until he looks into the mirror to see his reflection again." ]

[ 2, 4 ]

[ "1416368935", "1416367047" ]

[ "\"Hey guys! Guys! Look at me, guys!\"\n\nA collective sigh goes up from the bar.\n\n\"What is it this time,\" one student asks, \"Another space-warping snow globe? Because we all know how *that* particular experiment worked out.\"\n\n\"Okay, I know that one was a bit faulty, but I'm pretty sure I've got this handled. All we do is press this big, red, non-threatening butto-\"", "First time Reddit contributor. Feedback (+/-) would be awesome. EDIT: Grammar & wording.\n\n/\\\n\n“I’d like to read a statement and then my team and I will take questions. Please, hold your questions until the end.”\n\nHis palms were sweating. He couldn't tell if it was because of the announcement, the hot lights, the gaze of fifteen cameras, or knowing a sizable portion of the world was watching him on live television. He’d practiced, over and over, being grilled by his peers. But just like no AAA game can prepare you for the World Series, nothing could prepare you for something like this. It'd been leaked to the media yesterday. He didn't want to think about how many people were watching the news, waiting for him to confirm the announcement.\n\nHe cleared his throat, adjusted his glasses, and began reading. \n\n“At 0800 this morning, a peer-edited journal article was released in Science which ties the formation of our universe to a physical act of sentient being. Using evidence collected at CERN in Geneva, Switzerland, over the last two decades, as well as new information generated at FERMILAB in the United States, patterns were found in the distribution of Dark Energy in our universe. Using advanced extrapolative tools, which my colleagues can discuss further in a few minutes, we began to trace these patterns back in time. They match patterns found during a worldwide, collaborative project to harness Dark Energy for power production. My objective today is to explain our research and its conclusions.”\n\nHis tone was too strong, he immediately knew. He was talking like a scientist. People weren't going to understand the science, at least not at first. They only needed to understand enough to begin thinking about what this meant for both them and all mankind. This isn’t information to be delivered by someone acting like stern professor. The world needed someone they could trust. Fate, unfortunately, chose him to be that person. \n\nHe took a breath. \n\n“For several decades astrophysicists have studied what’s commonly known as the Big Bang. It’s the idea that the entire universe, everything on Earth and light years away, came from a single explosion. As if a very special bomb had gone off from which everything, energy, matter, even gravity, came into existence. We believed Dark Matter and Dark Energy played a role, but had no way to be sure.”\n\nHe paused, forcing what appeared a caring smile, hoping his nervousness didn’t show.\n\n“Sixteen years ago Dr. David Privisoft of Cal Tech published research on Antiproton Explosions. Dr. Privisoft found that by analyzing antiproton acceleration during a computer simulation, he could trace the source through both time and space. Dr. Privisoft’s mathematics allowed physicists to understand when and where these special explosions had taken place. Think of placing a small bomb in a kitchen. Using Dr. Privisoft’s equations, we could analyze all of the broken appliances and plates from around the room, and decide both where the bomb had been sitting and how long ago it had exploded.”\n\n“Eleven years ago, as you likely know, CERN confirmed the direct detection of Dark Matter and Dark Energy. After the launch of the United States’ EXPRESS telescope, which was modified to detect large amounts of Dark Energy and Dark Matter, my team worked to analyze the distribution of materials throughout the universe.”\n\n“We discovered that the distribution of Dark Energy directly matches the distribution expected by Dr. Privisoft’s antiproton equations. We altered Dr. Privisoft’s equations to use Dark Energy rather than antiprotons. The results were surprising.”\n\nThat was a massive understatement. It should have been impossible. It still seemed impossible. At first everyone in the astrophysics community assumed it was just glitch in the Big Bang Theory. Little did we know it was the Big Bang. \n\n“The equations stated that Dark Energy and Dark Matter were present in very high concentrations nanoseconds before the Big Bang took place. Based on our prior conclusions, nothing, not even energy, existed before the Big Bang.”\n\n“It wasn’t until Classified research run by the US Department of Energy was shared with CERN that we came to our current discovery. The United States has, for five years, been conducting research attempting to harness the power of Dark Energy. The substance’s unique properties make it an ideal power source which would provide unlimited amounts of usable power for humankind. Last year, scientists made a breakthrough in containment of Dark Matter, from which it was believed Dark Energy could be generated.”\n\n“CERN, NASA, the United States Department of Defense, and the United States Department of Energy began large scale supercomputer simulations on possible Dark Energy reactor systems. Our simulations showed that each time a hypothetical Dark Energy reaction would take place, an uncontrollable chain reaction would ensue producing an incredibly small – a billionth of a micron in size – anomaly. With further analysis we found the anomaly would grow exponentially, compressing all energy and matter into a single point. After roughly a thousand years of exponential expansion, the anomaly would consume itself and implode. The implosion generated a pattern of Dark Energy consistent with Dr. Privisoft’s mathematics and all current theories of the Big Bang.”\n\n“We are announcing today that we have strong data suggesting a similar reaction formed our universe nearly 13.8 billion years ago.”\n\nHe looked up. Every reporter's hand shot up into the air. \n\nHe pointed to the woman in the front row.\n\n“Are you suggesting that our entire universe came into existence because of another advanced race’s fatal mistake?”\n\n“Yes, I am.”\n", "Why I am still alive and He is dead, I'm sure I will never know now.\n\nIt took us a long time to realise we had the power to do anything. We simply existed. When He moved for the first time, and he let go of my hand and grabbed my shoulder, I felt fear and excitement; the first emotions I had ever felt before. He inspired in me the belief that things were possible; that things that simply existed could be so much more. I felt no different to anything else around us. Not that I knew what we had around us then; light was something I could have never even imagined by myself.\n\nHe made these tiny single celled organisms, and planted them around him. If they survive this, He said; they will survive anything. He created light from his mind, a simple flame that lit up His entire being. He studied the effects of what organisms needed to survive - energy seemed to be the main one. Without a light source, any life would perish.\n\nHis plan was beautiful - when creating the universe, I'm pretty sure he knew he would die. He became very peaceful and serene, very final in his answers. He said to me; there shall be but one rule. Energy cannot be destroyed, it can only be transferred, and with this rule, there is hope of something far more beautiful than either of us can imagine. I have existed in this realm for long enough. It is time for me to be the beating heart of man and animal than will eventually come from these tiny, little cells. Mankind must grow, and history given to enrich their journey. All of a sudden, He became white light and I could see the most amazing designs and patterns and destruction and colours and beauty, and he was the energy of it all.\n\nI had hoped that every planet would achieve life, with differences in their patterns designs - but only two ever did. They are so far apart they will never meet each other. By the time the transmissions of earth reach FOGFBV254, it will have been destroyed by a sun that will eat the whole planet whole.\n\nA whole peoples, blissfully unaware that all of them are Him. All of them are God. All of them made in his image, their intelligence and destructiveness always interesting to me.\n\nWhat a shame it is, that they will never know.\n\n", "\"Just a little tweak here... another adjustment here... ahhhh, that should do it, that should do it!\" God took a step back and admired his work. \"This will be good, I can feel it.\"\n\nGod had been preparing his latest project: creation. He had invented a way to speed the process of becoming something from nothing from a few billion years to only 6 days. Which was great, God thought, because now he could rest on the last day. In fact God thought a lot of the things he did were great, and was very proud of his work. He only lacked people to share it with. God was becoming sick of the angels. *All they do is sing me praises, they rarely offer any criticism. Do they think I can't take an honest critique?* And so God set out to create beings whose hearts he could win. He didn't want blind faith, he wanted to move people, to have them believe in him because he had proved himself. \n\nGod cleared a space on his workshop floor and began to set up his model. Even though he had whittled down the time of creation to 6 days, it would be a very hands on experience. *But smooth sailing after that!* God smiled. He packed a canister full of materials to start the necessary reaction to create a universe. God figured that, with enough electricity, he could at least jumpstart the process and condense billions of years into a few days. He had already mapped out evolution, gravity, stars and planet positions; everything was going to be perfect. He had designed it like that. \n\nThe angels weren't impressed with electricity. They had witnessed God's lightning bolts before and they weren't impressed when God figured out how to convert lightning bolts into a current and store them as energy. \"We don't need lightbulbs, we live in Heaven. It's always light here.\"\n\nBut God was going to show them what energy can do! He clamped wires onto the canister and set it in the middle of his workshop. He then moved back to the wall where a large switch with the words ON/OFF and DANGER. NO, REALLY, I KNOW WE ARE IN HEAVEN BUT PLEASE BE CAREFUL was waiting to be pulled. God was giddy. *Oh man, I can't wait for humankind to discover this stuff. They are really gonna get a kick out of this.* \n\nGod then pulled the switch and God, and Heaven, and all its angels suddenly became evaporated in a cosmic bang. \n\n" ]

[ 2, 2, 4, 10 ]

[ "1416415223", "1416425378", "1416419661", "1416405084" ]

[ "I was typing up my office reports when it happened. It was 12 AM; I had a seminar tomorrow at 5 AM and I really just wanted to go home and sleep. My coworker Tom was the only other one there. Suddenly, my computer was broken, shattered like a glass vase, and the knife that penetrated it had pierced my skull. Luckily, I had my pistol on me, which saved the stuff on my computer to the cloud. But I was so pissed.\n\n\"Take that!\" I yelled as the pistol slammed backwards into my shoulder, propelling three bullets into Tom's head. He slumped to the ground, dead. Meanwhile, the knife was still quite painfully embedded in my head. I took out my pistol and shot myself, knowing full well my respawn point was in bed, at home. I could finally sleep..", "I was sitting in my grey, 4x4 cubicle like any other day. The drowning noise of printers, the beeping telephones going off, Cheryl, the secretary, talking about her new boyfriend…Every day was blending into each other. This monotonous drone went on and on until this new guy gets hired. That new guy’s name just happened to be Dave. I’m Dave except new Dave was fun, energetic, and everyone called him ‘Fun Dave’. Fuck Fun Dave. What did everyone start calling me? You guessed it…’Boring Dave’.\n\nOn one droll of a day like any other I walk into my cubicle after lunch and notice all my stuff is gone. Computer, keyboard, mouse, pen holder, pencils, stapler, tape…all gone. Snickering from surrounding cubicles is now entering my ears. “Fuck this place”, I mumble under my breath. Out of nowhere, Fun Dave comes up, slaps me on the shoulder, “Sup Dave! Oh…your stuff…it…it seems to be missing.” He laughs and walks away. Fuck that guy.\n\nThis goes on and on for a few weeks. Fun Dave stops being so fun. Everyone starts becoming tired of his shit. Constant pranks on practically everybody. The only person he has left to prank is the big man himself, the Boss. Quick background on the Boss, he’s a fanatic. Some would call him an absolute mad man. Constantly doped out on amphetamines. Zoned into his charts like no other. Some say he doesn’t sleep, doesn’t eat. No one ever got in his way, at least no one I ever saw around. He’s one of those guys who looks like he could eat you up and spit you out without putting in any effort at all. I’ve only said thirty words to the guy after working in this hell hole for 2 years. But I digress.\n\n…\n\nCheryl’s screaming at the top of her lungs. A shriek like no other. Ten heads pop their heads up from the cubicles. What the fuck is going on…Immediately everyone rushes over. There’s blood all over the walls. Bits of brain and blood just everywhere. Boss is standing there, .357 to boot. Fun Dave pranked the wrong motherfucker. No one has any idea what the hell is going on anymore. He actually shot him. Over some harmless prank. Who would have thought this guy would have killed someone over a prank. Then we hear it, “What happened guys?” Fun Dave says, head popping up from his cubicle.\n\nFuck.\n\nEdit: some words here and there. Never wrote a prompt before.\n", "\"Come on buddy, everybody's doing it.\"\n\n\"I don't know, what if it dosen't work?\" Ebin asked warily. He looked a little shaky.\n\nEbin was new here at PrimeCo, where we worked the night shift, loading machinery from the manufacturing wing into shipping crates all night. It was a relentless and boring job, but Jake and I did it well.I muscled the crates, and Jake drove the forklift in perfect synchronicity. But, orders were up, and management thought we needed an extra hand. \nThats where Ebin came in. He had been following me and Jake around for a week,getting in the way constantly, and it was beginning to get on my nerves.\n\n\"Come on, Greg just did it just last week. Worked great, didn't it?\" Jake replied with a winning smile.\n\n\"Yeah, man. Drinking that bottle of lye was the best thing I've ever done. My kenee used to crack and ache all the time, but since I re-spawned its good as new.....Come on, it'll be legendary. People will be telling this story for years.\"\n\nWe stood side by side, considering the hulking green metal box of the trash compactor in front of us. The front door gaping open like the maw of some robot beast. Cardboard and trash spilled in front of it like half chewed food. It seemed like a lot of time passed.\n\n\"Fuck it.\" Ebin spat with bravado, but he looked a pretty pale. With a clumsy hop he jumped into the chute and slid down the slight angle of the compactors throat. We jumped forward before he could change his mind. I slammed the door shut,and flicked the lock while Jake punched the start button. \n\nThe instant the hum of hydraulics stated , he began screaming. I could hear the scuttling of his feet and hands on the metal throat of the chute. It sounded like a giant rat stuck in a trap.\n\n\"Guys, please.........Stop it, Stop, I don't want to die in here. PLEASE HELP, HELP ANYBODY\" He lost his voice in a string of gugling sobs.\n\nWe unconsously edged backwards, eyes locked and unblinking, but there really wasn't much to see. It was just a big metal box, same as yesterday, the same as all the days before that, except now there was a pleading, screaming voice coming out of it. A disconnect from reality washed over me. For a second I thought, it must be a bad dream, there's no way I would put some dumb kid in the compactor. This cannot be real.\n\nExcept, it was. \n\nFour fingers shot out of the corner of the door, as he tried to pry it open. The shouts got louder, he must have his mouth crammed in the door crack\n\n\"PLEASE, GUYS, HIT THE STOP BUTT\", The hydraulics screamed, drowning his voice out, just as three of the four fingers, no longer attached to anything, jumped away from the door. The middle finger, the biggest was still wedged in the crack.\nNow a long scraping noise as the hydraulic ram cleared throat, pushing Ebin and everything else to the center of the machine, where it squishes everything into a tidy cube.\n\nJake doubled over and threw up on his own feet. I just stood there, staring at the compactor.\n\nAfter a while he caught his breath, and looked up at me.\n\n\"Greg?.....\"\n\n\"Yeah....\"\n\n\"I'm pretty sure we're going to hell for that.\"\n\n\"Yeah.......I really though it would be funnier\"\n\n......................................................................end........................................................\n\nOR\n\n\"Come on buddy, everybody's doing it.\"\n\n\"I don't know, what if it dosen't work?\" Ebin asked warily. He looked a little shaky.\n\nEbin was new here at PrimeCo, where we worked the night shift, loading machinery from the manufacturing wing into shipping crates all night. It was a relentless and boring job, but Jake and I did it well.I muscled the crates, and Jake drove the forklift in perfect synchronicity. But, orders were up, and management thought we needed an extra hand. \nThats when our boss Steve hired Ebin. He had been following me and Jake around for a week,getting in the way constantly, and it was beginning to get on my nerves.\n\n\"Come on, Greg just did it just last week. Worked great, didn't it?\" Jake replied with a winning smile.\n\n\"Yeah, man. Drinking that bottle of lye was the best thing I've ever done. My kenee used to crack and ache all the time, but since I re-spawned its good as new.....Come on, it'll be legendary. People will be telling this story for years.\"\n\nWe stood side by side, considering the hulking green metal box of the trash compactor in front of us. The front door gaping open like the maw of some robot beast. Cardboard and trash spilled in front of it like half chewed food. It seemed like a lot of time passed.\n\n\"Fuck it.\" Ebin spat with bravado, but he looked a pretty pale. With a clumsy hop he jumped into the chute and slid down the slight angle of the compactors throat. We jumped forward before he could change his mind. I slammed the door shut,and flicked the lock while Jake punched the start button. \n\nThe instant the hum of hydraulics stated , he began screaming. I could hear the scuttling of his feet and hands on the metal throat of the chute. It sounded like a giant rat stuck in a trap.\n\n\"Guys, please.........Stop it, Stop, I don't want to die in here. PLEASE HELP, HELP ANYBODY\" He lost his voice in a string of gugling sobs.\n\nFour fingers shot out of the corner of the door, as he tried to pry it open. The shouts got louder, he must have his mouth crammed in the door crack\n\n\"PLEASE, GUYS, HIT THE STOP BUTT\", The hydraulics screamed, drowning his voice out, just as three of the four fingers, no longer attached to anything, jumped away from the door. The middle finger, the biggest was still wedged in the crack.\nNow a long scraping noise as the hydraulic ram cleared throat, pushing Ebin and everything else to the center of the machine, where it squishes everything into a tidy cube.\n\nWe stood watching the monolithic machine, as it settled into the crush cycle, making creaking, popping and pinging noises, like a submarine submerging.\n\n\"Greg?\"\n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\n\"Did it hurt?\"\n\n\"Nah, it felt great.\"\n\n\"Drinking a bottle of lye felt good?\"\n\n\"Well, I didn't really drink a bottle of lye.\"\n\n\"Wait, we all saw you come out of the re-spawn.\"\n\n\"It was more of a stroke and choke thing gone wrong......... I always wanted to try it, figured now that we have the re-spawn, perfect time. Drinking lye sounded way cooler than auto-erotic asphyxiation.\"\n\n\"Makes sense, in a Greg sort of way. Soooo Ebin?\"\n\n\"Well, I don't know for sure, but I'd bet it hurt like a bastard.\"\n\n.......................................................................End.........................................................................\n\nedited, spelling, grammar and endings.\n\nWhat do you think? Ending one or two?\n\n\n\n", "Memo to all Employees of Brines and Barnum Law Office. \n\nAfter the Incident on November 12th 2017 in which Senior Partner Kenneth Alvarez was transported from our Los Angeles offices to the deserts of northern Nevada by means of three weather balloons; Brines and Barnum has come to the decision that the following activities are no longer allowed on Brines and Barnum property or when an employee of Brines and Barnum is on duty.\n\nThe following activities are no Longer acceptable during business hours.\n\n* lighting interns on fire in a witch hunt.\n\n* playing \"Car Fighter\" (Bull fighting except with a car). \n\n* \"Mary Poppins\" the act of jumping from the office with umbrellas.\n\n* \"Powered Coffee\" the act of putting explosives in the coffee machine.\n\n* \"Charlie Kelly\" the act of assaulting fellow employees with a \"rat stick\"\n\n* Poisoning the water cooler with any chemical, pathogen, or animal. Criminal charges will be sought for Ricin, Uranium, Heroin, or Viagra. \n\n* Any action that could be construed as kidnapping (such as attaching weather balloons to a bear trap to carry a fellow employee away) will be penalized and/or criminal charges will be sought.\n\nThe actions above include the discretion on the part of Senior Partners in both penalties and further interpretation of unproductive activities.\n\nSigned, Perry Ganz Barnum Esquire.", "The day the respawn point was first sold publicly was awkward to say the least. Humanities innate desire to skip the manual and jump right into the fun cost countless of people their lives that day. Months of apprehensiveness followed where nobody would risk trying the product for themselves. Of course, this made bug testing somewhat more difficult, which in turn extended people's suspicion. \n\nA number of lawsuits were filled against the designers and engineers of the product. Most of which they lost. The company collapsed and the two project leads were sentenced to life in prison - responsible for over ten thousand cases of manslaughter. But within the first week of their sentence their cold bodies were found, flat, under the shadow of a watch tower. \n\nA mountain of reports out of reliable sources surfaced that the two had set up their own respawn points prior to their incarceration. The controversy was introduced when they were never seen again. Some believed they booked it with money believed to be stored in some underground banks. But others believed they actually died and became victims of their own genius, or rather, their sloppy bug fixing. Whatever the case may be, one hundred years later, the duo became the the idols of a generation. \n\n*Classic*, thought Dan, *the dumpster.* It seemed his coworkers misplaced his point once again. And while Dan usually enjoyed the daily office murder, he did not enjoy ruining his suit. *Hey, is that my morning tuna casserole on my pants?* \n\nWhen he arrived back at the forty fifth floor he feigned a smile and congratulations to the assailants of his most recent departure from life. They smiled and high fived each other while Dan constructed his plans for revenge. \n\nDan's lunch came at around 1:30. He invited Harvey, the *mastermind* behind the dumpster dive. They decided to go to a local mexican food restaurant just across the freeway. \n\nAll the way there Harvey describe \"play-by-play\", how they went about \"getting him good.\" He told him some new things that he had not been aware of. That morning they snuck into his house while he was taking a shower and stole his point from his bed. When they arrived at work the dumped it into the dumpster and went on their way. The rest Dan already knew. Harvey convinced Dan to take a smoke break on the roof. When Dan was just next to the ledge Harvey kicked him off straight down into the dumpster. \n\nWhen they arrived at the restaurant Harvey asked why Dan was taking his suitcase inside. \n\n\"If you can steal my point from my house, somebody could steal my suitcase from my car,\" replied Dan.\n\nThe food was ok. The waitress,Lila, was beautiful. Harvey could not take his eyes off her the entire time. Dan was a regular at the restaurant and knew that Lila would be here today. When he introduced Harvey to her, he made sure to champion him. It seemed to work as Harvey and Lila hit it off. Dan's plan was going perfectly. \n\n\"Their bean burritos are fantastic, Harvey\" said Dan. Harvey went with Dan's suggestion, though he was not really paying attention to him. \n\nThe rest of lunch went fantastic. Harvey engulfed the burrito and continued to flirt with Lila. Dan had to drag Harvey out in order to get back to work on time.\n\n*Now we wait,* Dan thought as he sat down at his desk, missing his briefcase.\n\nAt 3:30pm the perfect opportunity arose. Harvey shot up from his desk with his hand on his stomach. He dashed to the mens room and slammed the door. *Bean Burrito not sitting well?* Dangave it two minutes before he followed him in to ask him that very question.\n\n\"Fuck no,\" Harvey grunted. *Nows the time.* Dan dived under the stall and onto his feet. \"What the hell dude! I'm taking a shit.\" Dan grabbed Harveys belt from his ankles, wrapped it around his neck, and pulled, all the while laughing manically. \n\nThey struggled for about thirty seconds before Harvey started to loss energy. Dan had chocked enough people to death to know he was about to pass. Through his laughter he managed to say, \"Say hi to Lila for me.\"\n", "*Left side clear.*\n\n*Nothing on the right.*\n\nI crept silently from my office, TPS reports in hand. \n\n*No trip wires in the hallway.*\n\nLast week I had set off a shotgun, pieces of my brain were still stuck to the wall. Maintenance quit after having to deal with all of the clean up.\n\nI made it to the copy machine and opened the scanner. A pin was dangling from a string taped to the inside of the lid.\n\n*Shit*\n", "\"Hey Brent, think fast!\"\n\nThe knife whirred through the air in a perfect arc and nailed him through the throat. He managed to gulp in one last breath of air and told me to fuck off. Actually, now that I think about it, maybe I shouldn't have turned Brent into a horizontal coat rack. Now I'd be stuck covering his shifts until he respawned wherever he saved last. Damn. That could be *hours*. Fine. If Brent's stupid oxygen needs wanted to screw up my productivity, so be it. I'll have to get him back for it somehow...maybe a throwing star or something...", "Maintenance had thrown a fit the day after it had been installed, and Paul had gotten the brunt of the rage. \n\n\"It's a fucking *respawn* point, not a reset button!\" Frank, head of the maintenance department, was not a fan of doing more work than he needed to. \n\n\"I'm sorry, I know we should have...\" \n\n\"Waited? Yeah, you better fucking should have! One day! One day until we installed the kill room and you sick little fucks could have wasted each other to your hearts content! But no, you had to paint the whole fucking office red the day we get the damn thing! I had to drag four Toms, three Alices, two Michaels, four Cheryl's, and eight, *EIGHT*, of your own fucking corpses down to the dumpster last night! And that was just in your department! What the fucks were you using? Weapons haven't even arrived!\" \n\n\"Pens mostly. The occasional piece of furniture. Kevin somehow had a letter opener. And of course Dex had been secretly bringing his Bowie knife everyday because wanted to get the jump on us. That's why there were so many of me. He started it. He thought it would be funny to test the respawn point right after I'd been scanned. And there were more bodies originally. We got tired after carrying down the first couple dozen.\" Paul responded sheepishly. \n\n\"Seriously? Do you have *any* idea how hard it is to get blood off the furniture?\" Steve's coveralls seemed to indicate there may have been more blood than Paul remembered spilling. \n\n\"I thought we had easy-clean furniture?\" Paul realized his comment had not helped matters.\n\n\"Yeah, but that means it's 10 minutes a chair rather than having to reupholster the fuckers.\" Brandon interjected. \"And there are 40 people in this office. Thank god sales sat this one out.\"\n\n\"Oh\". \n\n\"Yeah. Oh.\" Frank looked disgusted. \"So I take it you didn't get the wave? That the office is closed for today because we're *still* not done undoing what you little twats did last night?\"\n\n\"I guess I may have missed that one.\" Of course, Paul thought. He didn't think it made sense that he'd been the first one in the office. He'd been 5 minutes late. \n\n\"Well unless you feel like helping out I suggest the little blood-fairy go the fuck home!\" \n\n\"Ok.\" Paul did feel bad. He knew it wasn't cool to have left them with all this carnage, but he didn't feel like sticking around for any more abuse. \n\n\"Oh, and come early on Wednesday.\" Frank said as Paul was half out the door, a smirk on his face. \"Trust me. You'll want to have first pick.\"\n\nFirst pick? Paul wasn't sure what Frank had meant, but Frank's expression piqued his curiosity. \n\nReturning the next day, Paul noticed something was different. The smell. It was almost *too* clean. He was an hour early. He knew Dex was usually half an hour early, and there was no way he was letting Dex be first. Not after Monday. \n\nOpening the door, he smiled. The entire office, every piece of furniture, was covered in thick clear plastic. And arranged neatly across the floor were all the weapons they had ordered for the kill room: chainsaws, katanas, machetes, sledgehammers, crossbows...And above them, a sign, painted in what looked like blood, that said \n\n\"CHOOSE YOUR WEAPON. YOU HAVE 10 SECONDS. \n\nPaul laughed. Fucking Frank. As tempting as it was be to dual wield the chainsaws just for shits, he knew he'd have better luck racking up kills with the machete. Plus that gave a free hand to find a shield somewhere.\n\n\"One thousand one....one thousand two.....one thousand three....\" He counted to himself as he picked up the machete and looked for a good spot to ambush his co-workers. \"one thousand nine....one thousand...\" \n\nHe felt a sharp pain in his back of his neck. As he fell he managed to turn around and look up just before everything went dark. There was Frank, tactical knife in hand and a huge grin on his face. Waking up in the respawn chamber a short time later with a phantom pain in his neck, Paul shook his head. \n\n\"FRANK, YOU FUCKING CAMPER!\"\n\n\n\n\n", "I was ecstatic. The deal I was closing was huge. I was looking at the biggest commission I would ever see. I was waiting on one more follow up call, which should have been coming in any minute. But then the siren started blaring.\n\n\"No, not *now*.\" I whispered. Everyone stopped what they were doing and started reaching under their desks. The loud speaker crackled to life.\n\n\"Random Deathmatch will begin in fifteen seconds,\" a voice announced.\n\n\"Not now!\" I yelled, repeating my earlier whisper. Everyone took out their guns, patiently waiting for the starting bell. The announcer began counting down.\n\n\"10, 9, 8...\"\n\n\"Guys! Seriously, don't shoot me! I'm waiting on a really important call!\"\n\n\"3, 2, 1.\" A bell rang. \"Commence Deathmatch!\" The phone started to ring. Gun shots started filling the room. As I picked up the phone, my head jolted. \"First blood!\"\n\nAs my consciousness started to fade, I could hear a voice fading away. \"Hello? Jim? Hello? Screw this, I'm calling Office Max.\"", "\"Hey Steve, guess what I just finished doing in Jim's office.\"\n\n\"What? Did you poop on his desk again?\"\n\n\"No. Even better! I spiked his coffee with poison. He'll have to walk all the way back to work from his house when he re-spawns because his cars here!\"\n\n\"Didn't Jim say he couldn't afford to pay the re-spawn company this month and his subscription was canceled?\"\n\nA thud is heard across the office as a body hits the floor.\n\n\"Oops.\" ", "Fri 19 NOV 2214: It works! With a simple biomatrix scan and a signal implant, we can recreate the dead as they were mere moments before their death! Obviously, the scan and implant have to be conducted prior to the subject's death, but there doesn't even seem to be any loss in brain data. The potential applications are incredible: wars without lasting deaths, protection from fatal accidents, the works. Granted, anything between the latest biomatrix scan and the point of death are lost, but James is working on an upgrade to the signal implant can encode and send any brain data to the replacement body.\n\nTue 27 DEC 2214: Miles was running late this morning. Rather than risking termination (due to his excessive tardiness) he simply jumped into his household incinerator. The net effect was teleportation, though his last biomatrix scan was on Friday. He has completely forgotten his holiday weekend, and this left him in a bit of a foul mood. Fortunately, he didn't forget any work days, and he has no significant loss of productivity. This will require some further testing.\n\nWed 11 JAN 2215: James' update to the signal implant seems to be a success. The implant is noticeably larger, but encodes all new mental data with no apparent flaws.\n\nFri 24 FEB 2215: Cynthia figured out how to tweak the encoding algorithms and make changes to the reformed subject body. Cosmetic surgery could be a thing of the past, as more significant changes could now be hard-coded into the generated form. This could also eradicate cancer or communicable diseases in one fell swoop. There are apparently very few constraints on modifications, but so long as it's not abused this power could be rather significant.\n\nMon 13 MAR 2215: Nathan, apparently sick of Miles' suicide teleportation, tweaked biomatrix files. Miles was reborn to a nasty surprise: all of his tastebuds are now located inside his rectum. He did not react well. The resulting scuffle led to some serious injuries.\n\nFri 24 MAR 2215: Nathan spent some time tweaking his own biomatrix files, and the result was terrifying. The human body apparently cannot support a 36\" penis. 27 clones were spawned before the file could be corrected. Cynthia opted to completely remove his genitals, citing both his childish behavior and his numerous sexual harassment complaints. He seems to be adjusting well, though the trauma of repeated deaths and the loss of his manhood is clearly weighing on him. I've referred him to staff counseling until he has evened out.\n\nFri 7 APR 2215: Miles apparently thought it'd be funny to see what Nathan looked like as a woman. Nathan took to it surprisingly well, probably in no small part to the nearly cartoonish proportions he was reborn with. I fear we'll see a sudden uptick in sexual harassment complaints, but this is certainly a fascinating development.\n\nWed 26 APR 2215: Cynthia did it again! She's figured out how to transcode knowledge into a mind. Miles, once again using the system to return to work, only spoke German today. He adapted fairly quickly, and spent most of the day making sexual comments about Nathan, so long as Cynthia was out of earshot. The mind is clearly more flexible than we expected.\n\nFri 28 APR 2215: Cynthia, sick of Miles' crude humor, copied her biomatrix information into his. When he arrived at work, he arrived as her. There was a brief argument over which was the original, but by the end of the day, both were working together with startling effectiveness. She placed one of the older implants into this body, and whenever it expires Miles will be formed from the backup, but for now we have a more productive office than ever.\n\nMon 8 MAY 2215: James and Nathan had a date over the weekend, and are now the new office couple. Both Cynthias remain as productive as ever. Things really seem to be smoothing out! Now we can make some real progress.\n\nMon 15 MAY 2215: James tweaked Nathan's biomatrix files to change her name to Nikki, and made some slight adjustments to her body form. Nathan, now Nikki, seems rather pleased with the adjustments.\n\nWed 17 MAY 2215: James spent more time tweaking biomatrix files yesterday, but the true effect was only seen today. After Cynthia-1 had an accident involving electrical currents, she was reborn...as a twin of Nikki named Cindy. Apparently this presents no problems for Nikki, who spent a good portion of the day locked in a bathroom with Cindy and James. Things have certainly taken a turn for the strange here.\n\nThu 18 MAY 2215: Miles/Cynthia-2 was found dead in a closet this morning, and apparently has been replaced by Mindy. I fear for my identity. Everything can be so easily changed, and James appears to be collecting women. I tried reporting the problem to HR, but their entire staff seems to be further Nikki clones. I went to call the police but James has cut the phone lines. All of the exits are barricaded. I've locked myself in my office. I don't know what else to do.\n\nFri 19 MAY 2215: James is the greatest! I think it's my turn to please him next!\n-XOXOXOX Rikki <3", "“Bob, you really shouldn’t kill yourself to get home. You know respawns take a lot of electricity.” I advised my coworker.\n\n“Frank, this saves me two hours of sitting in traffic, besides, it’s not like I’m paying for it.” I shrug.\n\n “Suit yourself buddy.” Bob goes upstairs to jump off the building into the dumpster 12 stories down. The first couple of times he had missed and it had been messy for us to clean up. Now he could land smack dab in the middle and not even get any splatter on the pavement.\n\nI keep a straight face until he’s closed the door to the stairwell, and then I burst out laughing. He doesn’t know that after he brought in those arsenic laced donuts 'to share', the rest of us had decided to get revenge. We had set his respawn two hundred feet above his house.\n\nWe had rigged a camera in his backyard, and any second it would be life streaming a most amusing scene. My coworkers crowd around my desk as I pull it up, and we start taking bets on how many tries it’s going to take until he manages to reset it close enough to the ground to survive.\n\nOur boss had suggested we set the respawn point to be his mother for irony's sake, but we figured his mom would probably tell on us.\n\nEdit: added another paragraph.\n\nEdit 2: some words." ]

[ 5, 5, 8, 8, 15, 17, 22, 29, 37, 95, 142, 315 ]

[ "1416446971", "1416452585", "1416425348", "1416471769", "1416447657", "1416447221", "1416422869", "1416446102", "1416424705", "1416426101", "1416422856", "1416418381" ]

[ "What strikes me the most is the silence. The serenity of it. Of course, when you’re floating 235 miles above the surface of the earth, everything seems serene. I’ve positioned myself in front of the large hexagonal viewing window in the Cupola module, and have neither moved nor spoken in several hours. I just watch the surface. The station passes over central Africa.\n\nNothing’s changed, really. From up here, everything looks the same as it always has. Though we’ve seemingly bared witness to the final days of the human race, there was nothing to really witness. The Atlantic is still vast and blue; the ice caps, small as they may now be, still that blinding shade of alabaster; clouds still swirl and currents still pull. Africa’s band of green is lush as it ever was, and its deserts still dusty. The only difference is that now the night side remains completely dark - there is no one left to keep the lights on. \n\nI kind of expected it all to end in fire or ice or biblical flood, leaving the earth scarred and disfigured. A nuclear war at the very least, so that we might get to see the slow sprouting of mushroom clouds. Even a Texas-sized comet would have sufficed. But all we’re given is silence. It’s the kind of quiet so heavy you can feel it’s weight on your eardrums, straining to rupture its way into your skull. \n\nIt’s been almost fifteen days since final contact with earth, and a month since we’ve heard from Houston. The last person we talked to phoned in from JAXA, the Japanese space program. Sascha, our Russian neuroscientist, had a working knowledge of Japanese and was able to hold a short, telegraphic conversation with the woman on the other end. We never found out the content of the majority of the interchange, though, because as soon as the transmission had terminated, he continued to stare at the com screen, unblinking and motionless. His breathing became deep and deliberate, and his hands began to tremble ever so slightly. He took off his headset.\n\n“Everyone is dead.” His voice was barely audible, yet I felt it almost deafening.\n\nA beat of silence.\n\n“What the fuck does that mean? Everyone in Japan? What about Houston? Did you ask about Rome?” Alessandra; the onboard Italian physicist. \n\n“Not just Japan. Everyone.”\n\n“What the fuck, Sascha? *Che cazzo vuoi dire?* What the fuck did she say to you?” Her voice was becoming increasingly more shrill. It began to break as she fought back tears. \n\n“Sascha! Answer me, *bastardo*! What the hell is happening? Why can’t we contact anybody on earth? *What the fuck did she say to you?*” \n\nHe stared blankly at her, blinked once, glanced at me, then turned and propelled himself out of the comms capsule without saying a word. She screamed after him, but did not give chase. Two minutes later, a red indicator on the control panel lit up. The loading bay airlock had been opened. Through a porthole window in the comms pod, we could just barely see where that particular airlock let out. I pressed my face against the thick glass, straining my vision to try to glimpse what had been ejected. I knew before I even saw it. \n\nA human figure drifted out. Sascha. Our space-walk suits take several hours to put on, and that’s with someone helping you. I didn’t have to look to know he wasn’t wearing one. He was not flailing, like you sometimes saw in the movies. He was entirely motionless, drifting further and further away from the open airlock. The pale of his bare forearms and legs seemed to light up when he passed from behind the shadow of the station and into the full gaze of the sun. \n\nAlessandra was in hysterics, and she disappeared out the exit tunnel. I don’t know where she went. I stayed next to that tiny port window and watched Sascha’s body sail away until I couldn’t see it anymore. I thought about when he kissed me in the Columbus module. It felt like decades ago, but it couldn’t have been more than a few weeks. His lips were dry and parched, but I didn’t mind. He was all flesh and bone and muscle and heart, and I needed him. I needed those rosy cheeks and wide fingernails.\n\n Now he’s just a little white silhouette doing slow cartwheels into infinity. It was only after I lost sight of him that I began to cry.\n\n———————————————————————————\n\nThat was fifteen days ago. \n\nNow I sit and watch the earth, imprisoned in this slowly decaying satellite. There are three of us left. Myself, Alessandra, and Kaspar, the Danish meteorologist. We still don’t know what happened on earth, but none of the 60+ governmental and private space agencies we’ve tried to contact have responded to our distress calls. We are running dangerously low on provisions, since we haven’t so much as seen a supply ship in over a month. Dehydrated food is carefully rationed among the three of us. \n\nI can see the western shore of the Indian subcontinent begin to creep over the horizon. \n\nThere's a hand on my shoulder. It’s large and vascular, with a firm but gentle grip; Kaspar. \n\n“Mark. Something came up. Something you need to see. Meet me in comms in 5 minutes.” \n\nI close the aperture of the Cupola observation window, watching the world disappear below me as the shutters extend over the glass. I wonder if I’ll ever feel the sweet tug of gravity again. \n\nWhen I reach the comms module, Alessandra and Kaspar are already there waiting for me. Neither of them say anything, they just turn their gaze to the laptop screen in front of them in unison. I float over behind Alessandra, and Kaspar opens a video transmission file. \n\n“I received this from Houston a few hours ago. I’ve watched it a few times, but wasn’t sure whether I should show you.”\n\n“Why the fuck wouldn’t you show us this immediately?” I demand. \n\n“I didn’t believe it. I don’t know if you’ll believe it. It doesn’t make sense.”\n\n“Just play the goddamn file,” Alessandra barks. “I can’t fucking believe you.”\n\nKaspar taps the space bar on the laptop to play the video.\n\nA man appears on screen. He’s only visible from the chest up, and speaks directly to the camera. He know’s who he’s talking to, but he is totally unfamiliar. None of us had ever seen him before, and I doubt that he even works for NASA. I wonder how he was able to get on premises without clearance, much less get into the central control room.\n\nHe begins speaking. He has this sort of breathy, staccato cadence to his voice. Northeastern accent.\n\nHe says his name is Elliot. He explains that he believes that he may be the last man alive on earth. Everybody else is dead. Not just in the US. Everywhere. About a months and a half ago, people started dying left and right. But not just dying; no, this was far deadlier and far more serious than some infectious virus or easily communicable bacterial disease.\n\nPeople were killing themselves en masse. No one had any explanation. It was a world-wide epidemic that wiped out 75% of the human population within two weeks. There was no ground-zero for the phenomenon, either; no origin. Independent incidents sprouted in disparate corners of the planet at seemingly the same moment. \n\nBut then, he says, someone had a theory. A theory that would explain this “worldwide suicide”, as he called it. He says that in the wake of the first wave of suicides, he met with a man, a botanist, who had seen this phenomenon happen in plants as a defensive mechanism against their herbivorous predators. He begins rambling about how the plants adapted and began targeting humans - their new greatest threat - with pheromones, toxins, which would trigger a self-destruction mechanism in the human brain, causing people to kill themselves in horrific ways. \n\nThen he stops talking suddenly. His eyes go blank and he stares into the camera, unseeing. He looks down at the control panel beneath his fingers, full of knobs, switches, keys, and sliders. He cranes his neck back as far as it will go, so that his back is arched back and he is looking at the ceiling, then swings back forward with full force and smashes his head down hard against the dashboard, out of view from the camera. We hear the thud. \n\nAlessandra and Kaspar both start, and there is a sharp intake of breath, though I don’t know from whom. \n\nElliot raises his head again, coming up bloody, with several deep lacerations on his face and head. Then he does it again. And again. And again. Kaspar has turned away, despite having watched the footage several times already. \n\nBy the 10th or 11th hit, the man is unrecognizable. By the 17th, he is losing consciousness. He hits the dashboard for the 21st - and final - time. His body slumps over and he falls to the ground. There are flecks of blood and organic matter on the camera lens. \n\nWith his body out of the way, we get a full view of mission control. On the other side of the room, on the edge of the screen almost out of view of the camera, we see a single, potted fern. \n\n“Oh God. It’s [Happened.](http://giphy.com/gifs/confused-huh-mark-wahlberg-zjQrmdlR9ZCM/fullscreen)\"", "The Earth had simply turned white, blindingly white, and then faded to a red haze. The last transmission we had heard from NASA came out garbled, with the only discernible phrase being \"Anonymous found the nuclear codes...targeted all corrupted individuals.\" We were unsure of what the message meant. Not anymore. Steve, Eric, and I were alone. The last three men standing from a planet of fools. \n\n\"So...who wants some warheads?\" asked Eric, offering some candy.", "In front of us, outside the window, the giant asteroid grew closer every \nsecond, and yeah, we saw when it hit the Pacific, hard as fuck, and the \nwaves – well... “waves”. They were waves in the same sense that a T-\nRex is a gecko – took over and spread through everywhere. The \nAmericas, first, then Europe. Continents drifted. Not like we read about \nin the school books, a millimeter every hundred thousand years, no. \nThey fucking drifted like Vin Diesel on a new Porsche, spinning sideways \nand clashing on one another in a fucking insane matter to witness, \nespecially from our vantage point (that is, the vantage point of people \nwho used to live in those continents). Fire, water, a shitload of debris, \nand a weird, weird silence as it all happened, and Earth became Earth \nThat Was (yeah, big Firefly fan. Shit, Joss Whedon died. I'm gonna have \nto deal with that, later).\n\nI turned to Dana, her eyed so wide she looked like Emma Stone on crack, and I smiled:\n\n“We should fuck.”\n\n“What?” She went from Emma Stone on crack to angry lemur in like ten milliseconds.\n\n“Come on, we need to restart the human race”.\n\n“Not with your genes, Thomas.”\n\nShe got up, leaving me by the window to watch the millions of thousands of little pieces of houses, and people, and whales and motorcycles and trees that used to be what I called home.\n\nWhat the fuck should we do now? Me, Dana, Toby (who is still asleep and unaware of what just happened, mind you) and Jesse.\n\nWatching the little firework show that once was home to the Lakers and Bon Jovi concerts, I wonder. We could, of course, head for the nearest wormhole or whatever, check shit out on other parts of the universe, find a nice place to settle. It would be like that Matthew Mcconaughey movie.\n\nThe Wolf of Wall Street, that is. Meaning I want to do a lot of drugs and fuck alien looking women senseless until we are dead on some small, little planet in the Andromeda Galaxy.\n\nBut Dana is gonna want to repopulate the human race. And Jess, that fucking smart chimp, he'd stand by her side, signaling with his big, fat, hairy hands that humans are bound to self-destruction, that self-awareness is an evolutionary tool with a built-in auto-destruct button, or whatever. That we should focus on survival, and all that nerdy stuff he talks about; I fucking hate the prick.\n\nFirst things first, though. I'm hungry. \n\nAnd the last McRib in the universe was just blown to pieces by an asteroid. Now what?\n\nI could make tacos.\n\nYeah, I'll fix something up in the kitchen, then I'll throw Dana and Jesse the life-long orgy idea on the Andromeda Galaxy. Who knows, maybe the --\n\n“Morning.”\n\n“Toby, hi.” This should be fun.\n\n“What's happening? Did Houston call?”\n\nOh, Toby. Where do I start?\n\n“Hey Toby, come here. Take a peek outside the window, will you? And try not to freak out. ”\n\n“What? Why would I – HOLY FUCKING SHIT WHERE IS EARTH?”\n\n“I know. I know. Hey, do you know how to make tacos?”\n\nToby fainted. I might have to Google how to make Tacos.\n\n*Oh, that's right. Shit.*\n" ]

[ 2, 4, 22 ]

[ "1416459707", "1416444795", "1416444354" ]

[ "I blink the sleep from my eyes as I try to figure out why my head and my back ache so horribly. Slowly I regain what little memory the drink hasn't erased. As I look around the room, I begin to realize that I have no earthly idea where I am. It looks like someone's living room. Strange, I think, that there's no kitchen or hallway. In fact there's nothing but a door, a window with a thick blackout curtain, a beat up wavy patterned couch, and an old tube television that couldn't be newer than the 80s. Where the hell did I end up? Why am I alone? I know I was drinking with David and Brent until some other guy walked in to my garage with some Tequila. That's when everything went fuzzy. The guys seemed to know who he was, and I was too drunk to care. I guess I should have known better\n\nWary of the whole situation and starting to panic, I reach for the dial on the TV. I click it to ON to no avail. It's dead. I try to pull back the curtain only to find that there's no window behind. The pounding in my head and the ringing in my ears gets worse as I walk towards the door. I start to shake. Something has to be wrong here, I think, but if I don't open the door I'll never know. I take a huge breath in, reach for the knob and pull. \n\nBlackness surrounds me. I don't know where I am. I can smell alcohol, and something else... Paint! But why? What is going on here? I can't see a thing, and I'm so scared I just sit down on the cold cement and start to cry. That's when the laughter started. \n\n\"What do you want from me!?\" I scream and the laughing gets louder, definitely from more than one person. Just as I'm about to lose all hope, I'm blinded with light, and drowned in laugher. Once my eyes adjust, I look around at my two friends and their new friend, all wearing paint clothes... In my garage... Standing next to the room they built around me while I was passed out... Assholes ", "\"Holy shit\" he says as he awakens from his drunken stupor. Looking around the empty room terrified, Jake screams out \"Where is everybody?!\" He sees a door, the only door in the room, and proceeds to jump up and sprint for it. Feeling the full magnitude of his insane hangover, he stumbles and falls. But instead of hitting the floor, he continues to fall for what feels like an eternity before splashing into a liquid. He manages to swim to the surface, looking to see where he is or for a way out, but can see nothing. Total darkness. Until suddenly, he sees an incredibly small light maybe 100 stories above him. \"That's the door\" Jake thinks to himself. He begins to swim for an edge or a wall to see if there is any way he can get up there to that door. No hope. He is stuck in this liquid... But what is it? He smells it, attempting to detect an aroma that would signify what the liquid is. \"Wait a minute,\" he says \"I know that smell.\" He takes a sip and exclaims \"holy shit! There's no way! The hell is going on?!\" It was whiskey, his drink of choice. A never ending pool of whiskey had him trapped with no escape. For hours he waded in that pool of liquor, trying to figure out how to get to that light, that door... But no luck. Angry and scared, he screamed out \"SOMEONE HELP ME!\" with no answer. More hours pass... No hope. But all of a sudden, Jakes' feet feel 10 times heavier than usual. Its getting harder for him to stay above the surface. Scared and unsure of what to do, he kicks harder and screams out for help louder than he ever has, but nothing changes. He begins to realize that this is it. This is how he dies. He begins to sink below the surface, drawing his last breath... *BAM* Jake wakes up, lying face down on the ground in the empty room. \"What the...\" He thinks to himself. He stands up and sees the door he had been staring at for hours down in that pool of whiskey that had drown him and begins to head towards it. All of a sudden, it swings open. \"Hey man! We were wonderin when you were gonna wake up!\" his friend says. Jake, completely confused, replies, \"Yeah, I didnt think i would.\" \"I think you might wanna consider staying away from alcohol for a while, dont you think?\" his friend asks. With his recent experience weighing heavily on his mind, Jake replies, \"I'm done man... Totally done,\" as they walk out the door. ", "I open my eyes and see that I am on the living room floor. I see a door. Why is there only one door?! Oh, mom always preferred archways instead of doors. Let's go through this door. Ouch this hangover is killing me. Hey, where's everybody? I feel compelled to go through this door. Let's go through this door. I pick my ass up off the floor and clumsily make my way to the door. I turn the knob. I push it open. Oh hey, it's outside.\n\nI go outside.\n\nExcept this time, I fall through the ground. I can feel that I am falling as if I will go on forever unless I hit something. My insides are trying to escape through my mouth at this point. What the hell is going on? I look up and see the bottom of my house. The house is getting smaller, the ground feels like the sky right now. It's so far I can never hope to reach it again. I dare not look down. What's down there?\n\nI muster all of my courage and I tilt my head. I try to \"swim\" in this void. I am still falling. I catch a glimpse of nothing. I look down and it's empty. This feels like nothing I've ever imagined. I was told to imagine \"nothingness\" once during a therapy session. I never could've imagined this. I look around again.\n\nI still couldn't feel the ground. I look up and the land I once stood on now looks like a distant moon. I give up. I close my eyes. I'll be with the void if this is my destiny. To disappear from this reality.\n\n***\n\nOh I'll be damned...\n\n\"Adam! Who told you to mess around with my computer?! Kids these days...\"\n\nLet's see... Ah, shit. He even managed to add a character to the scene *AND* turn the \"Free Will\" setting on. Well, I haven't finished the level design for this chapter. Nothing interesting is going to happen anyway...\n\nWoah, how long has he been falling like that. Right... I haven't added any collision for the terrain outside.\n\nAlright, stop running now.\n\n*click*\n\nDamn, even stopping it takes so much time. I guess it's time for a new computer.\n\n***\n\nSo I'm just a fictional character? Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit... I can feel myself dis-", "(First ever time I've responded to a Writing Prompt... first time I've ever actually tried to write something, outside of boring essays for college. Please criticise :D)\n\n\n\"Oh gods...\"\nI woke up, with a headache equivalent to an african tribe playing the drums in my head. I glanced around the room - my living room. Everything was clean and, more surprisingly, empty. I checked my watch. 12:00am. \n\nGathering my thoughts, somehow getting the african drummers in my head to be a little less noisy, I stood up. My clothes, my breath, my hair, it all played host to the lingering odour of alcohol - a mixture of vodka and beer. Since when did I drink beer? I glanced out of my window, and was greeted with the sun in the sky and an eerie silence. Staring out at the city, the quietest I had ever heard it be, a shiver came over me, and I had the strangest feeling of Deja Vu. I glanced at my watch - still 12:00am.\n\nThen it hit me. All of last night came flooding back... almost all of it, at least. The piles of Fosters cans. The wall of spirits, a mixture of Jack Daniels and Smirnoff. The 40+ people, crowded in my average sized apartment and balcony, all drinking, laughing and having a good time. Then, there was the downfall. The girls bringing up their entire dinner, all over my TV. That one guy, Mark, who everybody hates, peeing in my plant pot then falling over and getting it all over my carpet. My memories stopped when I checked my watch. 11:59PM\n\nI snapped out of the visions of last night, and back into reality. In the corner of my eye, I saw something appear. Turning around, I saw it was a door. A plain white door, yet it wasn't there a minute ago... come to think about it, I havn't seen a door in this room since I woke up.\n\nI step up to the door, and slowly extend my hand. The handle is hot, far hotter than it should have been, yet I find myself gripping it, unable to let go, opening it. I step forward, through the door... and I'm falling.\n\nFalling.\n\nAnd then, I wasn't.\nI glanced around. I saw Mark, finishing a can of beer, then saying something about how he wants to pee in my plant. I hear a girl shriek and scream she's going to puke. I glance at my watch.\n\n11:58pm.", "I struggle between my need for sleep and even more pressing need for hydration- mouth dry and rusted over with last nights leftover promise i attempt to stand up and blink away the pain. My head feels too empty and too full, like it's been stuffed with gauze. Full of something that's not really anything at all. \n\n There's a draft in the room and it's seeping through my white gown at an alarmingly rapid rate, chilling me violently. Taking in more of the room i search for a window, or anything really. One simple scrap of familiarity, i call out for my friends; \"Holly? Jess? Fucking anybody?\"\n\nI wait for a reply, for any sort of sound to dull the hollow feeling that's blanketing me. That's blanketing this whole empty room. \n\n There's a feeling building steadily inside me, welling up it begins to flood over the sides as a sudden shot of terror tears through me.\n\n Screams rip from my body as i sprint straight at one of four blank walls and fight with everything i have. My hands and feet ache as i punch, slap, and kick, the pain almost as strong as my need to leave. Almost, but now quite. Every time I feel as though i'm almost out it solidifies before me. My nails catch in plasterboard and rip from their fragile foundations, my body a canvas of blood and frustrated tears. I drop to the floor- i just want out. \n\n I hear a light ding that seems to echo throughout the room and my head shoots up as i search frantically for the source. I see an antiquated mobile phone on the floor and i dart for it as quickly as possible, picking it up carefully in my abused hands. The phone is completely empty except for one message, 'Wake up.' I try to reply, to ring out as the phone dies before me, the last seconds of battery draining as the screen goes blank. I turn around and throw it as hard as i can at the wall- the wall that had been bare seconds before and now seemingly has a door.\n\n I rush for it giddy and terrified in equal measure, how is this even possible? I reach a hand out for the doorknob when a moment of hesitant, but complete certainty surges through me. I know that whatever happens when i open this door will completely change my life, i know it and i pull the door open anyway. \n\n My every sense feels as though it's been assaulted, the room is brighter than anything I've ever seen before and i blink rapidly attempting to make out more than just hazy shadows. There's a steady beeping saturating the room, i can feel people rushing around me as i try to take greedy breaths that never really hit the mark- somethings ripped from my throat and my panicked lungs take their first shallow soother. \n \"Jane, can you hear me? Everything's going to be alright.\" \n\n(I genuinely did try to stick to the prompt...) \n", "I pushed aside the pizza box and whiskey bottle that laid next to my head. In a daze, the warm sun in the early winter woke me from my drunken slumber, again I realized how lonely I was when my cat begged for attention. Shoving her away, I rub my head as it ached so, sitting up I realized my door was stuck open. In a drunken panic, I struggled to recall the night before.\r\rMusic, a movie, my pizza. I stumbled to shut my door, turning I saw the figure on my couch. The morning sun reflected off the grey skin of the humanoid as he sat with his black eyes staring me down, and his lengthy limbs resting on my coffee table. " ]

[ 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 4 ]

[ "1416477112", "1416503564", "1416477526", "1416479391", "1416535003", "1416473736" ]

[ "Hey dude how was ur date? -justin\n\nNot over yet..... ;) ill tell you tomorrow, we still on for the gym at 8? -luke\n\nyep. Have fun...Gotta talk to you about something then-Justin\n\nJustin sighed, throwing his phone onto his bed. When he had first been assigned to this mission, it had seemed easy. All he had to do, according to their calculations and detailed analyzation of his mom's life, was to prevent his mom from accepting the necklace from her brother Dylan. He still did not completely understand how exactly this would prevent everything that would happen, but it apparently was crucial to the prevention of the event. They had attempted to send him to the party where the necklace was to be given. But by some error, he had instead been sent 18 years early. Without any contact Justin had decided to play the role of the best friend, easy to do because of their similar interests, and to attempt to keep a close watch on Luke and any of his many girls. But of course his dad would be Luke, a man who after Mary-Ann rarely had more than a few dates or a hookup with any other girl. Luke would never understand the possible consequences of the situation. If only he could remember any of the stats on the true identity of his mother.\n\n\"Only two more sets! Come on man let's go!\" yelled Justin, attracting attention from the other people working out, \"Nice job.\"\n\"so I got a weird text from Tara this morning\" Said luke, chugging water with one hand and wiping sweat.\n\"yeah?\" said justin, looking at him with concern, not liking the tone in his voice\n\"she said her period is late.\" luke sighed, \"That was the worst night of my life. And to make it worse she's been dating some guy for 4 years, he'd kill me if he knew.\" Luke looked down.\n\"Hey man it's okay. Wait a couple days, cycles can be crazy.\" said Justin, doing some mental math in his head, wondering if this was how his older sister Tina came to be... but the numbers didn't match.\n\"yeah I guess... What'd you wanna talk to me about\" \n\"This is kind of a shitty time but it needs to happen at some point. I don't know how to explain this but what if I told you I was from the future, sent back to stop a horrendous event from occurring\"\n\" Hahhaha how high are you?\"\n\"No. I'm being serious.\"\nLuke looked at him with concern in his eyes, either Justin had gone crazy, or he was telling the truth, but Justing did not lie. \"Okay i'll hear you out\"\n\"your future wife will receive a necklace in a few years, with a green diamond in it from her brother dylan.\" Justin continued describing the necklace in detail, explaining how this necklace would cause the events. \"But I have been sent back to prevent her from receiving this gift, only I don't know who the mystery woman is, and I'm not in the right time.\" \n\n\"Justin are you okay? This all seems pretty crazy, do you feel SHIT Tara just walked in. I'm sorry but I really need to talk to her. Stay right here we need to finish this convo\" Luke walked rapidly over to Tara, before he could even say hi she said \"it's okay I just got it, check your phone we're safe. Dylan and I broke up by the way, I'm happy because I needed a way out of that relationship, I just was too scared to ever do it. I'm sorry to ever have involved you, we were both way too drunk that night. Anyways I dont know what to do, Dylan gave me this really expensive necklace and I feel like I should give it back to him, along with his sweatshirts and such.\" Tara said, running her fingers along the chain. Luke's jaw dropped, the necklace on Tara's neck was the necklace that Justin had just been describing to him.\n\"Does Dylan have a a a sister?\" stuttered Luke\n\n", "Great prompt.\n\nWe agreed to meet once a week, Brian and I. Once a week, I would go to his apartment with an accordion folder full of the notes we had accumulated in the weeks since I had arrived, and he would tell me about what he’s been up to. Whom he met, what he did at work, what he ate. He kept notes. He said he had a good memory, but I told him to take notes. He kept a map of the city tacked up in his bedroom with a surfeit of post-it notes, thumbtacks, and twine indicating his every movement. He recorded phone conversations. He never threw away receipts.\n\nThere was no question in our minds that the information was useless; that, when he met my mother, she would have no relation to the conversation Brian had with his boss on Tuesday, to the cashier at the bodega who didn’t have the time to handwrite a receipt after his machine ran out of ink on Wednesday morning, to the woman sitting next to him at the bar on Saturday evening who asked if he recognized the song that played. We agreed, however, that when choosing between preparation and surprise, we both preferred preparation. “Just like your old man,” he said, reaching up to tousle my hair. I batted his hand away, and said that my mother must be tall. He agreed.\n\nI bought books on genetics. My mother had blue eyes. She had European ancestry and detached earlobes. She likely was a brunette, but a blonde was not out of the question; she was not a redhead. I went to hospitals, labs, universities. No disposition to familial genetic disease. She was tall, but I knew that. There was more, but it wouldn’t help.\n\nAfter our meetings, Brian and I went to a bar, a new one every week. Brian approached women; so did I. He had to be prepared for when he met my mother, no matter the circumstances. He needed to be confident and comfortable in his own skin. He needed to refine his preferences. He was to become a man of intention. We both knew it was a charade. Among the empty glasses, he confided that he hoped he would never meet her. I agreed.\n\n“Do we just keep doing this indefinitely?”\n\nI finished my beer. “I don’t see another way.” When he remained silent, I said, “Unless you have a better plan.”\n\nHe shook his head.\n\nI said, “You’re 25. The average man marries at 29. We probably don’t have to do this for long.”\n\n“It’s weird to think about.”\n\n“That you have quite possibly the worst taste in women imaginable?”\n\nThat managed to make him laugh. “No,” he said. “This. This project we have.”\n\n“I know. I’m sorry to put you in this position, but I didn’t have much of a choice.”\n\n“Well, don’t apologize. The way I see it, most people go through life clinging to the hope that there’s someone out there for them, some singular person for whom they’re destined. Me? I don’t have to hope. I just have to wait.”\n\nWe still meet once a week, and we still get drinks after at a different bar each time. Our meetings are more informal. Every time, there are fewer post-its on the map, fewer sheets of notes to stuff in my folder. We make more jokes, the way we did when I first arrived. There are moments, when he spends the night with a new woman, when my heart seizes and I swallow hard. I believe he feels the same way when he wakes up beside her, weary from a night of drinking and of passion, and brushes the hair from her face so he can see her blue eyes as they gaze at him. And when she asks to see him again, he is stricken by a moment of doubt, and she can read it in his face, and when she leaves, he sits and cries and sometimes he calls me so that I’ll tell him that he did the right thing, and when he calms down and hangs up, I add her name to a sheet of paper and file it away.\n" ]

[ 2, 7 ]

[ "1416531335", "1416518063" ]

[ "I never thought that a girl this pretty would be tutoring me in math, while she was drunk.\n\nA year's gone by, and while college is fun, I do kind of miss her.\n\nShe was so happy to find out that we were living just down the hall from each other.\n\nThe only time I remember being genuinely happy was while watching movies in bed, with her wearing sweatpants and no makeup by my side.\n\nShe tells me she loves me, but I know that I love her differently and that I'm better off without her.\n\nI still think about her sometimes.", "The winter that she was born, the snow swirled around her carrier in greeting when her parents brought her home; he took his first hesitant steps into the safety of his mother’s arms. She grew quickly-almost too quickly –as she started primary school with a grin on her face and a chirpy voice that greeted him with, “What you name?” and he answered with, “What’s yours?”\n\nThe two had grown out of action figures and Barbies a few winters ago, but still, every first-day-of-winter, they played together until the sun went down; this year, they went skating. The next year’s first-day-of-winter was the first time that she had spent it alone in her room.\n\nTo her, middle school was a blur of boys and bad decisions, of late nights with girlfriends and tentative kisses; to him, it was spent in an eternal summer that turned his snowy childhood into a tantalizing dreamland filled with laughter and light. High school was different- they both drifted, confused and unsure, wondering when they’d meet someone with whom to share each blustery day.\n\nShe graduated college in the spring; he took an extra semester of philosophy to figure out what he wanted to do. The next snowfall, they both took a leap of faith and moved away to start their new careers.\n\nSkating had always been her favourite when she was younger, so it was only fitting that, as she stepped onto a rink for the first time in years, she heard a familiar voice jokingly say, “Hey, what’s your name again?”\n\nHer wrinkled hand reached out to touch his cheek for the third time that hour- he remembered their youth when she would caress his cheek before they kissed –but this was as she stuttered, “Hello... what... what you name?”\n\nAs he stared at the snow flying past his window, he knew he’d always remember her.", "In the year of 1996, two people, a boy and a girl, came into the light of this world as healthy human beings, on different days in different cities to different mothers, their existences seemed diametrically disparate. The boy, dressed in his Catholic school uniform with a Power Rangers backpack strapped over his spine, is excited for his first day of Kindergarten meanwhile a week later the girl, too, feels the same excitement. Now both Freshmen they attend the same high school, they share an Algebra class, but besides asking about the homework, never utter a word to each other. Junior year arrives and each day, they begin to talk more and more. They are about to graduate and the boy, realizing he has developed feelings for her, thinks about telling her, but graduation passes and he punches himself for thinking twice, the first guess is always right. First day of college, the boy enters his English class, frozen in time, he sees the girl across the room and decides to sit beside her-- he turns in her direction and says, \"You want to get some lunch later?\"" ]

[ 1, 1, 3 ]

[ "1416520185", "1416540418", "1416515262" ]

[ "*I wrote a song for this prompt. The lyrics are below; you can listen [here](http://clyp.it/iyprodvu).*\n\n**The Monsters Hiding In Plain Sight** \nI just knew some Prince Charming would take you away. \nHe'd have a sword and a white horse; I'd be the dragon he'd slay. \nI was so afraid of monsters lurking in the dark night \nI forget the ones hiding in plain sight. \nI was waiting for a wave to knock down my walls of sand. \nI defended you from a sea of men the best I can. \nCHORUS \nWhen you walked out by your own choice, I didn't make a sound. \nI was too surprised to put up a fight; my weapons were aimed at the wrong ground. \nCHORUS ", "God, I was tired.\n\nSnow had been falling for days. If I hadn't of already been at the station when it started then the Guard surely would've had to dig me out. \n\nThere was an advisory out - \"STAY INDOORS UNLESS ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY\". Fat lot of fuck that did. Whether it's buying gifts for the holidays (can't miss that killer sale on DVD players), to replenish an empty liquor cabinet (for the loved and the lost), or just plain stupid being stupid (goddamn high school kids think they're invincible on the roads), the white fist of God smashing into the Earth did little to stop people from getting themselves hurt.\n\nThe lady and her DVD player slid off the side of a steep embankment into a creek about a hundred feet down. The car crashed through the ice like a bullet through a body. Her damn DVD player was floating amidst the wreckage. The cold had made the woman's features waxy and dull, like a dirty glass. We found a bunch of Disney movies in a bag that was frozen to her chest in an icy death grip. She must have thought she could save them before the cold took her. I tried not to think about the kids who weren't getting their movies or their mom tonight.\n\nWe found the man huddled into a makeshift shelter of coats, blankets, and some kind of tarp. He died behind a mausoleum in the old Frankwood cemetery, a half empty bottle of bourbon clutched in his hands. The tears had frozen to his face. We didn't know who he was crying for, or if anyone would cry for him.\n\nThe kids were a nuisance but they usually kept to abandoned parking lots and rarely caused too much damage. It wasn't surprising to see different colors of paint bashed into the k-rails after the snow melted. But one kid took the fun too far. His arm had been crushed beneath him when he rolled his Jeep and slid into the only other vehicle around: a parked semi. Unlucky bastard.\n\nThese were the thoughts that clouded my mind as I drove bleary eyed along the icy streets, my mind dipping sweetly into a soft and pleasant haze. Despite non stop salt and plows, the great white just continue to pile on. My eyes flickered.\n\nI had been an EMT for about two years now and-\n\nSomething slammed into my car and rolled across the roof, the metal top crumpling and creaking against the weight. I slammed on my brakes and then cursed myself as I started fishtailing wildly. Finally, my heart punching through my chest and my eyes registering every single snowflake through the cracked windshield in front of me... I came to a stop.\n\nI took a long breath. Then another. My heart was beating hard, each thud a picture in a slide show playing in my head- my recollection of the crash. My mind stuck on an image like a sticker to glass- a pair of bright, green gloves.\n\nShaking now, I opened the door and stepped numbly out into the cold, my balance slipping a little. We were the only two souls around. Me and the person in the blue coat. My breath came up short when I saw, dimly, in the glow of the rear lights: fingers twisted in unnatural shapes, adorned with bright green gloves. Her foot was twitching- I could see it was a woman now- and I heard something sickening. It was her. She was trying to breathe but the air wasn't coming in. Somewhere in the far reaches of my mind, I heard an echo of myself saying, \"Female, 20-25, presenting with a multiple fractures, a possible collapsed lung, minor lacerations...\"\n\nI stood there and watched as the woman died.\n\nThe empty bottle of bourbon I had been clutching so tightly in my hand slipped out and landed with a hollow \"clunk\" on the icy street. Silently, slowly, I walked back to my car, nearly tripping on an empty beer can that must have fallen out when I had opened my door.\n\nI drove home, crying. Whether for the girl or myself, I didn't know.", "There was crash from the floor below my bed, making my eyes pop open. my breathing hitched as I heard the creaking of the floor boards at the base of the stairs, I knew that creaking sound well enough to know someone stood at the bottom of my staircase. I slowly peeled myself out of bed with stiff movements trying not to alert the intruder. I glued myself to the closest wall, my ears straining to pick up the slightest sound over my erratic breathing. at first nothing could be heard but then came the soft groan of the carpeted stairs being taken one by one slowly. I crawled along the wall to my bedroom door placing myself in the threshold of my closet behind it. soft footfalls sounded from the hallway in front of my room, instinctively I looked to the bottom of the door but there was not lights on to reveal the slightest of shadows. my heart thundered through my chest while I swallowed back sobs. I was stuck, I wouldn't make it to the window before being caught, there was no way out. the sound of my doorknob being turned nearly had me fainting, my eyes struggled against the darkness to make shape of the opening door. I covered my mouth to hide my erratic breathing while a mass slowly slunk through my door. my wide eyes slowly adjusted to the hulking figure moving silently through my room to my bed that lay vacant. crossing through a soft blue filtering through my window from the moon the man became all the more terrifying. he was dressed in all black and his hands were suited with black leather gloves, he looked like he just walked out of a horror movie. I was sure I was going to die in the next moment as he drew nearer to my bed realizing I was not in it. reaching out into the darkness he found my bedside lamp clicking it on sending a soft glow throughout the room. slowly he began to scan the room in front of him taking in all of my belongings. my brain was telling me to run for it, to get the hell away before he found me right behind him but I was rooted to the spot by a deadly fear. he slowly turned to the side to approach my dresser, giving me a profile view of the man who was about to kill me. my world shifted and causing me to inhale harshly causing this man to finally face me, but the face leering at me was one all to familiar. it was the man I thought I loved and trusted; it was my boyfriend and now murderer. ", "\"Daddy,\" Michael whimpered, \"Daddy, please don't go. There's a monster under my bed.\"\n\nMichael's father retreated from the open door and came to loom over his son. \"Now, now,\" he said, \"what makes you say that?\"\n\n\"I don't know, dad, there just is. It's waiting for me to push my legs out and then it's gonna eat me...\"\n\nThe dad let out a bemused sigh. \"We all feel like that sometimes, son. But let me tell you a little secret: it's not the monsters we're really afraid of. There are no monsters under your bed. You're afraid of the monsters inside your head.\"\n\nMichael titled his face in oblivious wonder. \"The monsters... are in my head?\"\n\n\"They are, son. They've always been there and they always will be. You just have to figure out how to tame them.\" And with such knowledge imparted, the father kissed his son on the forehead and left his room. \"Sweet dreams, now.\"\n\nMichael lay on his bed, thinking.\n\n*So the monsters aren't really under my bed, even though I think that's true... they exist only because I think so. If I stop thinking they exist, they'll disappear.*\n\nThe little boy closed his eyes tight, and with all his might, he wished the monsters away. *No such thing, it's just me. Only, me.*\n\nMichael opened his eyes. His foot was hovering over the edge of his bed. He instinctively pulled it inside.\n\n*Oh my God,* he thought. *I can't get away.*" ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 3 ]

[ "1416535992", "1416538611", "1416539673", "1416535542" ]

[ "The rain was pouring down again, and Hannah was disgusted by it. That's how the weather was though, this time of year in Detroit. As bad as today had been, Hannah had a worse evening still ahead, when she exited the freeway on her way to her babies daddies mothers house. Today all around had just been a dreadful day for her. Her fathers extended stay in the hospital had been on her mind for the last week, her boss was an asshole, and wouldn't give her time off to spend with him and to top it off she had her working extra hours. Hanna wasn't even supposed to be off shift right now, but the last 25 minutes had changed that. Hannah was a nurse at the free clinic, it didn't pay much, it was disturbing work, she could get sick, but she'd dedicated herself to the medical field. She saw the peoples aching faces and her heart would break for them, knowing that the clinic wasn't going to be able to do much. Tonight however, her thoughts we're suddenly overwhelmed with emotions. \n\nRuth, Hannah's babies daddies mother, called the clinic to speak to her, and was placed on hold and forgotten about by Hannahs boss for 40 minutes. Hannah only picked up the phone line on accident when she was trying to call out for one of the patients medical files. Ruth was furious, and talking a mile a minute, about how the police had arrested Garret, Hanna's babies father. Half the conversation was Ruth frantically trying to explain how Garret was innocent this time, and how he'd be right back out of jail, when Hannah finally managed to get a question in about the twins. \"Where are the twins? Did the police take them to the station? Who has them?\" asked Hannah. \"They're here with me, they are sleeping, have been since the whole ordeal. Hannah, I know these are hard times, and you and Garret had hardly been getting by much less along, but we can't keep the babies here. Oh we do love them, but Hanks social security isn't that much.... we're on a fixed income. Garret never had much money, but he did use it on those boys, and that's why we were able to allow them to stay here, but Garrets going to be needing that money for his lawyer now.\"\n\nWith that one phone call, Hannah's world just fell apart. Her and Garret had been separated, but did a fairly alright job of sharing the kids. Hannah knew what Garret did, but she was never about to tell on him, she knew he loved being a father. She'd also wondered what she would do if something like this would come up. Of course, she'd always thought she'd have her father for support, but now.... The gravity of the situation sinking in. \n\nShe burst into tears, right in front of the lobby. The woman who had been waiting for the medical files she'd been calling about looked sickly, but a concerned look came across her face. \"Deary, oh it's ok, we all have days when the world falls down on us......\" she leaned over, almost to hug Hanna, \"we just drive on. The world depends on us, we must just drive on. \" Hannah looked up at the elderly woman, who looked tired and ill herself. \"Thank you,\" she got out softly in between sobs. \n\nJust then Hanna's boss shouted. \"Hannah, we have people dying to get in here, and your still on the phone for one stiffs file! What was her name?,\" she shouted from the hallway door to Hannah. \"My name is Margret Ann Tiller, while I may be stiffer than that thing you call a penis, I've got more than enough life left in me to knock some manners into you, young man! This poor girl just received some rather grave news, she's trying to hold herself together, and your over here, screaming like a monster, you should be ashamed!\" At this point, Hanna's boss thought it must have had something to do with her father, and really did feel like an asshole. \"Hanna, go take care of what you need to. I've sent the files for Mrs. Tiller already, they'll arrive at your computer in a few moments, I'll come back in here and go over them with her in just a while. I've heard a little about whats going on with you. Give me a call, we'll get you back in here when things settle down. Sorry about your father.\" With a kind of heartfelt shrug, she left the room.\n\n\"I hope I didn't get you in any trouble, I've had rough days too,\" the old woman said. \"It's ok, things will be fine. I guess she will come out here, so I'm just going to get my things and be out of your way here. That rain is probably going to make this drive hell,\" said Hannah. \"How far are you going dear? Should someone come get you, you look quiet upset?\" she asked. \"I have to go pick up my babies, they were with their father and his parents, I can't leave them there, they won't be able to handle the kids when they wake up full of energy. They're downtown, and the weathers made a complete mess of the freeways, they said nothings moving past 36th St. and I have to go further, to 42nd,\" Hannah replied regaining her calm. \"Oh get off on Shelton! If you go right, you'll see the mission, make a left, I think the street is called Marrow, and follow it clear down. I use it to go to the bank on 51st, wasn't much traffic on it. People tend to avoid it because there's no streetlights or signs saying where it leads to ahead, but it's a great shortcut,\" the old woman offered. Hannah was already standing up to leave, reaching for her keys when she saw the file blink up on the computer screen. Hannah didn't care to look, she didn't mean to look, she wanted to be out of there before anymore bad news could come her way..... but the file read: Margret Ann Tiller, age: 67, diagnosis: Lung Cancer, Status: In-operable. Hannah realized the woman that came to her aid, was dying, and she didn't even know it. She looked away from the screen, feeling herself losing her nerve. She stuffed her keys into her purse, \"I'll try it. Thank you very much miss, have a good night,\" she said and made her way out toward her car. \n\n***** I can see I'm getting carried away, I have an end, but I haven't figured out how I'm going to connect all the dots, and I'm not sure any ones going to read this.... should I go on? **********************************", "There were ten babies in the middle of the road and the driver swerved to miss them. Unfortunately, while swerving he hit the mother of the ten babies and killed her. He was going to stop but his car went flying off the side of the bridge and landed on a boat passing underneath. The boat was headed to China and the captain said, \"We are stopping for nothing. You must now work your way as a slave until you pay your ticket to China.\" \n\nSo the hit and run was unavoidable and the dead lady is stupid for leaving her ten babies in the middle of a road. ", "From the alleyway Butlersrevenge watched as the police cordon was rolled across the street by a morose officer. The body of the woman was gone, hastened to the hospital though her fight for life was already lost, but her ghost lingered in the carnage of the scene and it had hit him hard; though not as hard as the car had hit her. Turning, the driver of the car ran from the scene before more officers arrived. I had no other choice, he thought, I had no other choice!\n\nButlersrevenge ran through alleys and slowed to a walk as he hit a main road. He rearranged his hair on his balding head and looked around him as a fox would look for hounds. A police car turned a corner up ahead. Looking around frantically he spotted the entrance to an internet cafe. He went inside.\n\nHe needed to calm his frayed nerves. He sat at a computer and his shaking hands typed reddit.com/r/writingprompts into the address bar. Some well-written stories by a group of lovely and intelligent people would calm him, he knew. But that's when he saw the new submission, under an hour old, staring out at him like the eyes of the woman he had just killed. How? How did he know?\n\n *\n\nAfter climbing through his window, Butlersrevenge stood behind VIOLENT_POOP with a gun in his hand and desperation in his heart. The dark stinky room was littered with pizza boxes and brightly coloured My Little Pony dolls sat grinning from shelves. He had to move used tissues aside with the toe of his boot to creep toward the computer, sneering at the now hard paper as it crumpled underfoot. The sound of unlatching the safety caught OP's attention and slowly, wide-eyed, he turned around. After what seemed an age, Butlersrevenge found his voice: 'I had no other choice...I HAD NO OTHER CHOICE!' \n\nButlersrevenge's hand trembled as the humanity of VIOLENT_POOP looked out at him imploringly. A puddle appeared first under the sitting man, then slowly dripped to the floor. OP gulped...'OK, man. It's OK, I believe you!'. Seconds passed like hours: 'I ain't gonna tell nobody. No way! Don't you worry.' The smell of ammonia filled the room. The thought occurred to Butlersrevenge that he could never be sure OP wouldn't change his mind later. He knew what he had to do.", "I watched dispassionately as the car slammed into Giang from the front, sending her flying into the air, tumbling over the hood and roof of the car before crumpling into a bleeding heap on the concrete ground. She twitched and groaned briefly, barely audible over the scream of the tires as the car drove out of our compound. \n\nGiang's limbs and spine were bent at unnatural angles. There was a huge dent in her skull. There was no way she was going to live. I didn't care. Not any more. There was a time when I would've done anything she'd told me to, but that was in the past. Now she was dead—or, rather, she would be soon—and the world was better off for it. \n\nI turned my back to the dying woman and made my way back into the warehouse. The air was still thick with the stench of blood, sweat, and sex. You could probably burn this whole building to the ground, and the miasma would still be there. \n\nI passed a row of dirty mattresses, each bearing fresh stains from the abuses that had taken place on them just a few hours ago. This was where the girls had slept, when they were allowed to. When they weren't being forced to service an endless parade of men, in the most horrifyingly degrading ways ever known. \n\nI sauntered into the dark offices of the warehouse, carefully picking my way across the piles of papers and crates, illuminated only by the glow of the security monitors. I made my way to the security station. Giang's pathetically broken body was visible on one of them. She wasn't moving any more. \n\nI rewinded the security tapes, looking for the sections I needed. I had to go all the way to the start of the day's recordings, from 7am. That's when Giang had come into the warehouse to rouse the four girls from their sleep. She accomplished this by dumping buckets of water over them. The oldest girl, Shelly, leapt up with a screech. She was just sixteen, less than half my age. I hated myself for my role in her predicament. I hated the fact that I had been the one to have met her in that bar, the one who had tricked her into coming to this living hell. \n\nThe other three girls, Jenny, Claire, and Sammi, were soon awake too. I watched as they curled up into terrified balls on their mattresses, trying desperately to hide their bodies with the rags that served as clothing. Giang was yelling in Vietnamese at them. I knew enough of the language to know that she was telling them to behave, that this was their lot in life now. \n\nAnd then I appeared on the monitors. I handed food to the girls. It wasn't enough, of course. Giang liked to keep the girls hungry, it meant they had less strength to resist or run away. I looked at my face, my blank expression of acceptance. What was it like for Shelly and the other girls, to see the man they trusted become one of their tormenters? To watch him go about the vile business of sexual slavery, as if they were less than human? \n\nAnd then the monitors showed the day's business. Vietnamese men came to the warehouse, and Giang and I collected their payment, and then they would be allowed a set period of time with a girl. Half an hour. An hour. Some men even liked to show off their wealth or virility by buying two or three hours at once. They must've thought we would assume they'd be going at it for hours at a time, but the security cameras never lied. I suppose the girls might even prefer men like this, men who would last for a few minutes, then lounge around for the next two hours. At least that'd be two hours where the girls would be free from molestation. \n\nBusiness continued until nearly midnight. I came in again, after the last man had left, and gave the girls some more food. The glowing monitor showed Shelly speaking to me. She hadn't spoken a single word to me since leaving the bar two weeks ago... until tonight. Her voice was too soft to be picked up by the cameras, but I remembered what she said. I would remember it for the rest of my life. \n\n\"Danny... she's going to kill us, isn't she? Giang's going to kill us?\" \n\nI watched myself freeze on the screen. My mouth hung open stupidly. I didn't know how to answer. Shelly hung her head and continued, her voice barely a whisper, \"I know it'll happen. When the johns get tired of us, Giang will need to replace us. She'll have no use for us any more, and she can't risk letting us go. I don't care any more. But the others... Claire, and Sammi, and Jenny... they're so young. It's not fair for them to die.\" \n\nShelly looked up at me, her eyes bloodshot and lined. \"Danny... I don't care what happens to me. But you have to get them out. It's not right for them to be in here. It's not right for them to die like this.\" \n\nI could still feel that moment of shining clarity, when I could no longer dispassionately distance myself from the horrors that took place in here. The moment I realized that I was sending *good people* to a living hell and then condemning them to death, all for a few measly pieces of green paper. \n\nI watched as I walked out of the warehouse without a word. Shelly's head drooped again in exhaustion and despair. A few minutes later, I returned. I was holding a set of keys. I unlocked the chains on the girls' ankles, then handed a set of car keys to Shelly. I pointed at Giang's car, just outside the warehouse. \n\nThe girls carefully made their way to the car, unlocked it, and slipped inside. The sound of the car's ignition was like the roar of an alarm. Giang came sprinting into the camera's shot. She planted herself between the car and the front gate. The car didn't even slow down as it plowed through her. I wondered if that felt good to Shelly. I wondered if the shattering of Giang's body would give the girls some measure of catharsis. \n\nI copied the video file to a USB drive, then slipped it into my pocket. The Vietnamese authorities would no doubt be very interested in seeing it. No doubt they'd throw me in jail. No doubt they'd make a big deal about foreign men coming to Vietnam and helping to trap foreign girls in sexual slavery. I didn't care. It was true. I had helped put these girls through hell, and it's time I made amends. \n\nI just hoped Shelly had made it to safety, with the rest of the girls, in Giang's car. ", "The instant I felt the impact there was no other outcome, she was dead. I didn't stop. \n\nThe car barely survived. The front passenger's side tire protested my continued pace as the dented fender scraped into the rubber. It didn't help I had to navigate this unfamiliar gravel road in the dark in a car I'd never driven. On top of that the power steering either didn't work or the car was too old to even have it, and my hands were still too slippery to grip the wheel right even though the blood had started to dry. \n\nIt wasn't hers. The dead woman. It was her husbands. I managed to catch him off guard when he came to the basement that night. I had wriggled free of the ropes, and I got him in the shoulder with the shard from the broken mirror he had used on me. His keys were by the door. I heard him hang them there every time he came back.\n\nThat woman, she had gone outside to smoke in the woods where he couldn't see her. I guess that's where she had run out from as I escaped, but she was dead now. I hoped he was too.\n\n\n" ]

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[ "1416570595", "1416563281", "1416567079", "1416567555", "1416566199" ]

[ "\"Lucifer?\"\n\nYes\n\n\"Why in Gods name?\"\n\nGods most beautiful, fallen angel will once again free our minds and make us see the truth.", "The decision seemed a lot harder at first than it really was. At first, I thought it was a test. Pick one other person in all of history to take with me to heaven, no restrictions. The obvious answer was to take a kid starving in poverty, of course.\n\n\"It's not quite the same, if they're already dead, is it?\" I asked as I looked at the sign. \"I mean, they've gotten sorted through.\"\n\nThe sign, being a sign, did not respond.\n\n\"But it seems wrong to take someone that's still alive. They still have a full life to live.\"\n\nThough, I could take my wife. She would like that, not having to mourn much longer. Yet, at the same time, that would be selfish of me. She would surely get in anyway, she actually believed in this during life. I never did; I only got in by virtue of her making me get baptized anyway. \n\nI grabbed the sign. \n\n\"I'll take this. I don't really want anyone else knowing about the whole plus one deal.\"", "\"Are you serious?!? Logistically alone, what you're asking is a nightmare.\" \n\n\"well it's not like there's no precedent for him being up here, and everyone deserves another chance .\"\n\n\n\n\"This isn't going all in after playing just the tip with your high-school girlfriend, this is divine fucking intervention! We don''t just give this shit away you know.\"\n\n\n\"I'm sorry are you the one who just died saving a little kid from getting hit by a Mack truck? My earthly remains are basically a particularly chunky soup! \n\n\"you know normally that's not enough, normally you've got to save at least 3 plus kids, it's pure dumb luck you saved a future pope.\"\n\n\"Pope? Really? i wouldn't even have had to shove him if he hadn't been picking his nose quite so intently. Regardless, you told me i get a plus one and that's my pick\"\n\n\"what about your aunt nan? Shes not in here you know.\"\n\n\"and for good fucking reason! All the woman ever did was play the Clarinet badly and talk like she was in training for the racism Olympics.\"\n\n\"*sigh* fine but if this blows up you're the one who has to explain it to big beard\"\n\n\"fair enough\"\n\n*Poof* \n\n\"*Good to see you again Peter*\"\n\n\"You too Lou, your benefactor here read too much Twain and now it looks like you get another shot\"\n\n\"*Goodie Goodie, i guess i have you to thank for this new...opportunity human*\n\n\"Former human, now mostly paste. Big fan Mr. Morningstar, pleasure to meet you\"\n\n\"Before you two get all Gomorrah on one another we should probably go explain this to dad.\"\n\n*Lead the way pete, im quite looking forward to seeing ol' whiskers again*\n \n ", "\"So I get to choose, like, whoever?\"\n\n\"That's right, son.\"\n\n\"Even Hitler?\"\n\n\"Well, not *him* obviously. He's already been plucked up here. Bloke who did it seemed to think it was the funniest thing this side of donut halos, bringing that old dolt with his ridiculous moustache.\"\n\n\"Tell me more about donut halos.\"\n\n\"It's simple, really. Nick a chap's halo, put a donut up in there and send him on his way. Laughs all around, good times had.\"\n\n\"Oh. I was wondering why your halo looked like a donut.\"\n\n\"Damn it, Sagan.\"\n\n\"*Carl* Sagan?\"\n\n\"Bloody practical joker, and a non-believer might I add. Dragged up from below too.\"\n\n\"Heaven sounds like a real riot, Pete. I'm starting to like it.\"\n\n\"That's Saint Pete, son.\"\n\n\"Sorry. Anyway. Is my dear mum up here?\"\n\n\"Nah, son. I'm sure she's nice and all, but she isn't here.\"\n\n\"Huh. Shocking. Who would've thought, sweet old mummy burning in Hell.\"\n\n\"You can take her, you know.\"\n\n\"Yeah I'll take her, Pete. Just surprised is all.\"\n\n\"That's Saint Pete, son. Enjoy your stay.\"", "Made me think of this:\n\n\"But who prays for Satan? Who in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most, our one fellow and brother who most needed a friend yet had not a single one, the one sinner among us all who had the highest and clearest right to every Christian's daily and nightly prayers, for the plain and unassailable reason that his was the first and greatest need, he being among sinners the supremest?\"\n\n-Mark Twain", "\"Of all the people you could have brought, you chose HITLER!? Why!?\"\n\n\"Because,\" I slowly say as I casually shape my halo into a glowing golden baseball bat, \"it's not his heaven.\"" ]

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[ "1416618189", "1416594968", "1416597240", "1416593314", "1416587320", "1416583205" ]