Datasets:

euclaise

/

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like 8

[ "There once was a woman named Rachel. Rachel lived a lonely life, until she met Jack. Jack was a wonderful man, and she quickly fell in love with him. Jack thought Rachel was the best thing that ever happened to him. After many years of withholding their love for each other out of fear of rejection, they both eventually let go of and allowed themselves to feel nothing but their desire for each other. They got married and lived a happy life. \n", "I never really had the chance to really know who she was before she left. In paper, she seemed to be everything I had ever hoped for, everything that I have ever dreamed about and more, but I will never truly know if she was the one. She left me here, I felt marooned on this paradise that we had built together, a captive of my own creation, this small isle of loneliness. I wanted to go someplace where nobody would find me and just scream, scream so loud as if the screaming would bring her back, but it wont, there's no point in it. I was so eager for all of it to begin that I had never even expected that it would end before it would have started. By the end of all of it, the girl of my dreams will remain the person who she was, the girl of my dreams. She was perfect, and so were the few memories I had of her, because both were untainted by the harshness of reality. I don't know if I will ever see her again, I don't know if I want to, because that perfect memory is the one unshattered glimmer of hope that remains in me." ]

[ 2, 2 ]

[ "1416614233", "1416615168" ]

[ "This is the tale of King Edward CXXIV of the New Neopolitical united kingdom. It is the year 2998 and in the 24th century The former Neopolitical united kingdom invaded France followed by Germany. By the end of the year 2562 The former Neopolitical United kingdom had conquered most of Eurpe (Formally called Europe). Queen of the time Prime minister Danielle Young had huge plans that expanded beyond Eurpe month by month, the neopolitcal united kingdom had conquered at least 3 more countries. by the year 2565 the prime minister Danielle Young had changed every law in the houses of parliament, allowing her to rule as the supreme ruler of the neopolitical united kingdom until she died. Her global conquest continued for another twenty years. in the year 2585, a single lonesome country managed to survive the conquest of the neopolitcal united kingdom, it was no other than the United union of America and Russia, ", "The northern hordes still rape our coasts \nAnd a terrible wind blows strong \nFrom our south it creeps and crawls \nTreason from within \n\nOne flank is lost the other not \nBolstered with the young and weak \nIt shan’t hold long with only pawns \nThe bishop eyes our Queen \n\nKnights are fallen, the rector burns \nCannot hold out another day \nThe setting sun portends our end \nCheckmate comes at dawn. \n", "I stood facing a magnificent mural of my ancestor’s impossible victory. The mural represented the foundation of our existence, for it was that day which granted us life and land upon which we now called home. It was a great victory, but it came at great cost. Upon my ancestor’s slaying of the then-king, a tribunal was held. The decision of the regional lords and clergymen to allow our existence in these lands had a single condition. Twenty percent of all wealth would go to the tribunal members. \n\n\n\nMy family has struggled for centuries to provide peace and security to our land while continuing to pay our eternal balance. Some say our peoples were punished just for being born. I say we were punished because we killed the king. Now, after generations have passed, I am the king. With the recent famine on the far end of my realm, it has been harder than ever to pay our debts. I have had to increase land taxes yet again and I know my people are struggling. It infuriates me that there is nothing I can do to prevent their suffering. \n\n\n\nNew paint covered the mural. Letters wrote out in scrawling big swirls that spelled out, “Robin says I ought not pay taxes”. My kingdom is crumbling around me because of the debts my people owe. If I had enough in the treasury for a war I would, but they have drained us dry over the centuries. This Robin of Loxley has caused me more pain than any other individual. I wish I had the tenacity of this man on my own side. Then, maybe, I might have a chance to keep this kingdom together. \n\n\n\nAlas, it is not to be. \n" ]

[ 1, 1, 1 ]

[ "1416688891", "1416693047", "1416705979" ]

[ "Everything was burning. Somewhere off in the distance I could hear the cries of people dying, although I couldn't separate my own from theirs they too all eventually went quiet. I could feel the heat spreading over my skin as I became blind and deaf to the suffering of the world. I gulped desperately for air but choked on smoke as everything burned. Finally the pain stopped. I wasn't sure if I was dead or if i had just become numb to the pain. I was not sure how long I was like this but eventually I heard something. At first I wasn't sure what it was but I knew it wasn't screaming. It had a metallic, artificial quality about it. \nAs the sound continues to ring out I realize that I recognize that sound. Its the sound of the buzzer on my phone. By instinct I reach out to press the snooze button and only then realize that I can feel myself reaching. The unbearable pain is gone. Surprised at this I open my eyes, which also surprises me since I remember them being burned shut. I look around and realize that I'm in my apartment, and that its quite dark, the light coming in through my window is the orange of streetlights so it must still be nighttime. I look down at my phone. The brightness of the screen blinded me momentarily, but after a second I looked back and saw that the date was November 13th, 2020. According to my phone, the last week had just never happened and the world was still very much here. The fact that everything appeared normal out of the window corroborated this theory. \nMy head was spinning, I knew that what I had seen could not have been a dream, so how was I here, a week before the end of the world? ", "We only had ten days warning, a massive comet that had previously been undetectable would collide with the earth. The public wasn't told right away, not until the information was leaked just three days before the collision. We knew though, NASA was the first to know and mission control told us right away. I was the commander of the International Space Station at the time. Six days ago my two crewmates left to return to Earth and spend their last days with their families. I don't have a wife or children back home, so I chose to stay. Someone would have to be there to witness the apocalypse. Now that's what I'm doing, watching the world burn from orbit and sipping from bottle of vodka smuggled up here by some previous cosmonaut. The human race won't survive, I know that now. Even the deepest bunkers will have collapsed. Life will recover though, eventually. When the dust clears the lichens and bacteria and all kinds of microscopic things will already be evolving into the next rulers of the Earth. I wonder why I don't feel sad, maybe when something of this magnitude happens to a person, the brain just isn't equipped to handle it, and just shuts down. Or maybe it's just the alcohol. Time to get some sleep, I have to keep this station running as long as I can by myself. Try to make radio contact with any survivors. I float in my sleeping bag for a long time, just thinking before sleep finally finds me... \n\"Wake up, it is time for your shift, Houston needs to talk to you in ten minutes.\" \nA human? A man it sounds like. With a Russian accent... \nIt's Alex, but that's impossible, I know he's dead, everyone is. \n\"Are you hungover, you didn't find the vodka did you? No one knows where the hiding place is!\" \nNot knowing what else to say I merely mumble \"Ok, be ready in five.\" \nThis can't be happening, could the last ten days have been a dream? I get dressed in a haze before I report to the radio terminal. \n\"Houston what is today's date?\" Is the first thing out of my mouth. \n\"Uh, June 3 2017, you should know that ISS.\" is the response. I know that date, it's the day I learned about the comet. \n\"Uh, have any new near Earth object been reported today, Houston?\" I ask. \n\"No sir, no objects of any significance have been reported, ISS.\" \n\"Just curious, thanks, Houston\" I try to play off my odd question, but my mind is racing. How can I have imagined all of that, the ten days of hell, waiting for the end of the world, then the actual end. I know it was real. \nI carry out the usual procedures of reporting our situation to Houston automatically, without thinking. I never have been this distracted while on duty, but who can blame me. I check the panel where the bottle was hidden, it's there, still full, but there is no way I could have known where it is. Alex didn't tell me about it until right before he left. I return to the radio with tears starting to collect around my eye in zero G. My whole life I have been devoted to science, and now the whole world stopped making sense. How can I cry now but not when everyone was dying? That thought only makes me feel worse. \n\"Hey commander?\" I hear the voice over the radio, but it's not a voice I recognize. I can't tell if it's a man or a woman, but somehow it sounds... calming, like nothing I have ever heard before. \n\"Yes, Houston?\" I answer tentatively. \n\"It's going to be alright you know, there is no comet, the world isn't going to be destroyed anytime soon.\" \n\"How do you know about that, Houston?\" \n\"This isn't Houston. We are sorry for the confusion we put you through, no one was supposed to be alive when the Earth was restarted, but you chose to stay in space, why?\" \n\"Who is this? Did you destroy the Earth? How are you even talking to me?\" \n\"We put everything back exactly as it was, except for you, you we did not expect. Why did you stay?\" \n\"Who is this!\" I scream into the receiver. \n\"We only wanted to make observations, we meant no harm. Please answer me, why did you stay, even when you knew you could not survive?\" \n\"I don't know.\" I respond \"I guess I just wanted to know if anyone down there survived.\" \n\"Even if they had, and they could contact you, humanity was till doomed, you knew this, why then, did you stay?\" \n\"I'm like you I guess, I just wanted to observe, to see what would happen. Yes there were people on Earth I could have spent my last days with, but I just would have rather know as much as I can rather than die not knowing.\" \n\"Thank you commander.\", the voice said, and the line went to static.", "I wonder if everyone feels as I do, in these last moments.\n\nI wonder if everyone closes their eyes like I have, trying to accept the unacceptable. No one is getting away. No one is surviving.\n\nIt isn't an easy truth to grasp.\n\nHumans believe that they are immortal, that they are untouchable. Bad things never happen to *you*. And even they do, when you're in the midst of something terrible, it seems so unique, so special to your own circumstances that it feels like you're the only person in the world to ever suffer through this.\n\nAnd now... well, now none of us are special. Now all of us will die the same way, our charred bodies indistinguishable, unrecognizable, crushed and burned by millions of tiny space rocks that seem so far off yet are coming ever closer, closer, falling through the sky, all across the western hemisphere, leaving trails of fire in their wake.\n\nI closed my eyes so I wouldn't see, but their incandescent paths are burned into my retinas.\n\nI wonder if people around me are calm. I am standing in a crowd whose eyes are lifted to the burning skies, but I can't hear screams. It's not so surprising, screaming suddenly seems like a very pointless thing to do, but it's sad somehow, that no one is screaming. There is no one to warn. There is no one who will get away.\n\nBehind dark eyelids I let myself acknowledge that what bothers me most is my meaningless death. I don't want to die. But if I do, I want it to be special, to be significant. And now, well, I'm going to die just like everyone else here: with my eyes closed, thinking of pointless things because my brain can't deal with the inescapable fact that I am dead in 10... 9... 8...\n\n7... I open my eyes\n\n6... People are hugging. Crying.\n\n5... The sky is burning.\n\n4... I can barely see. There's too much light.\n\n3... The sky's only spots of darkness are the falling rocks, centred in balls of flame.\n\n2... The first rock hits the dark mass of the building just 500 yards away.\n\n1... There's a wave of light coming for me.\n\n0.\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n... I can't believe my last fucking thought was 0. God, how melodramatic do you have to be? I shake my head, clearing my thoughts of sleep's sticky cobwebs.\n\nI counted down the death of humanity. I still can't shake that. Hundreds of years later, it still haunts me that I was probably not the only one. Yet I'm still breathing, and we were all wrong. I crawl out of my sleeping pod, needing to piss.\n\nHere I am. Kept alive with cloned organs, for the Others to poke and prod at, last member of an extinguished race of parasites, a scientific experiment to be observed. It's what you do with an extinct species, I suppose.\n\nThe ones who plucked me from Earth's ruined surface are long since gone, but before they died they made sure I never would. \n\nAnd now I am the last one. The only one who remembers closed eyes, silent fear, the final countdown. The only one who remembers that the world ended.\n\nI slam my hand against the motion detector, and water pours from the ceiling onto my ragged body.\n\nToday's gonna be a long day. I can already tell." ]

[ 2, 5, 10 ]

[ "1416777438", "1416769083", "1416767988" ]

[ "Can I find a troll? 'Geography in Action' spent ten grand (probably hopefully, legally dubiously) all in all. Director Colm wanted my skills.\n\n\"This was dug recently, out of ancient sediments.\"\n\nThere, in muddened aluminum, from a thousand fathoms, a...figure. Carefully and amazingly portrayed. Cut? Painted maybe? A giant creature, an amorphous centaur. With lettering, 'Come Soon These Disasters'.", "\"Eat a dick\", I said glaringly. He looked like he'd taken sixty-one dumbbells crammed callously way up his butthole. \"Ouch.\" Really, he could'a been the one. Mournful sigh. Anyway, he turned into the one dickhead who is perfect nightmare stuff. He embodied everyone that I bitterly despise. I should euthanize him." ]

[ 1, 1 ]

[ "1416778382", "1416899651" ]

[ "\"Hello.\"\n\nThe deafening roar of close to 300,000 people. A gentle ringing resonates through my ears. The thunder of laughter pierces my soul.\n\n It lost meaning long ago, laughter. Now should a smile creep across my face I would whip it back. Any precious moments alone are spent in utter silence. Why do I go on?\nThe sound of your child laughing brings upon a merciless pain, both of physical and yearning... For it to mean anything again.\n\nI raised it to my temple.\n\n\n\"Goodbye...\"\n\n\nNot even the front row head the gunshot.", "Ok, I got something good for this----\n\nShe's beautiful, she's perfect, she's sitting across the table from me but she's way out of my league. But wait! She's looking over at me?!!?!? She's smiling at me? I look behind to see if maybe it's her friend, or someone else she's looking at but no one is there. She actually smiling at me! No, she's laughing! I pat my head. Do I have something stuck to me? A tissue paper in my shoe that she's laughing? She's hysterical now! I must be doing something really dumb or really brilliant to make her laugh like this. Should I go over to her now? How long have I been thinking like this? \nSuddenly I noticed that she hasn't stopped laughing at all, in fact she's falling to the ground, clutching her sides. I rush over to her to see if she is alright after the fall. ''Are you ok?'' I ask her but this makes her laugh even more. Blood starts squirting from her eye lids she can't stop laughing so hard and she throws up her intestines all over me.'' HOLY FUCK!'' I screaming but she's still laughing , despite the clear pain. ''IS ANYONE A DOCTOR HERE?'' I scream out but the one person who says he is starts laughing himself and dies shortly after.\n-----\n9 months later\nI sit in a cave- alone. in the space of 9 months I have managed to kill just over 7 billion people- the cause of death- laughter. \nI'm sure you're wondering why I didn't just stop killing them, why I didn't just hide myself away before I killed the whole human race, but as I'm sure everyone knows, when people are laughing at you right in your face, its hard not to want to kill them.\nThere was however a little boy who was immune to me, my only friend- I'm so alone now. But he died too. ''Why does everyone laugh themseleves to death around you?'' he asked not unkindly.\n''I don't know jimmy, I tried asking this girl out-''\nJimmy laughed himself to death soon after.\n" ]

[ 2, 4 ]

[ "1416772712", "1416772184" ]

[ " Space wasn't the final frontier. It's a shame it took so long to realize what man's truly last frontier was. It was never that quasar 100 million light years away or that potentially habitual planet in some far away galaxy. It was himself. Man had always wondered about himself, it would always be eating away at him no matter what else unbelievably big he was thinking about. He always thought that he could understand himself and explain everything he did. For awhile, he had come to accept it. Everything he needed to know about himself was known, when in fact that was not the truth. As man looked through its aluminum eyeball into the dark emptiness above, he began to think. \n\n \n What he thought about was wether the planet they may or may not find would let people get sick. If man would change there, a fresh start from all of the tainted past of millennia before. As he looked through his aluminum eyeball, why not make it perfect here and maybe we could be happy he thought. Why do we always have to be looking into the future? why do we require change? Why can't we do our best for each other? Why do we not care? It was at that moment man had turned that aluminum eyeball onto himself. ", "Captain's log: Earth date: August 25, 2037\n\n\nIt has been 25 years to the day since the incident. A year of prep work and over 2 decades of sleep but we've finally arrived. To me, it seems like it just happened. Voyager 1 was suppose to leave our solar system on August 25, 2012. It was a huge milestone for mankind. Our first venture into interstellar space. I'll never forget the confused silence in NASA after it happened. We watched the feed from Voyager 1 on the monitors. The countdown to history. Then it suddenly stopped. It just stopped. Several camera's were destroyed in the impact. It seemed like it hit a brick wall, but there was nothing there. We watched from every possible angle, trying to identify what had collided with the probe. But there was nothing, just infinite space in every direction. That might have been the end of it, just chalk it up to some space anomaly, if it happened been for the crack. Right after the collision, the probe spun slightly, no longer moving. For a split second, one camera caught what looked like a crack in a glass window, but it seemed suspended in space. This sparked a lot of controversy at NASA, and ultimately it was decided that we needed to know for sure.\n\n\nSo here we are, Lt. Billadeau, FO Johnston, and me. We woke several Earth hours ago. Confused, disoriented. But that is to be expected. All transmission's from Earth suggest they are just has confused as they were when we left all those years ago. We found Voyager 1. Closer analysis pretty much only confirmed what we already knew on Earth. It hit something. Hard. The front looked like the cars in those crash test dummy commercials. It was then, while adjusting the ship to get a better look at the probe, that we bump something. All readings showed nothing. Visual confirmation as well. There was nothing. But sure as shit, when we exited the ship to check it out, we were stopped in our tracks. There is some type of wall surrounding our solar system. The wall seems to be a huge screen projecting the universe to us. Everything we've ever seen from outside our system, every picture taken by Hubble, has simply been an image on this screen. The most unsettling thing is that we can find no trace of the crack that Voyager made. We've run scans and probes in every direction. Nothing. It's like it's been repaired.\n\n \nAs I lie here in my bunk, preparing to rest for tomorrow's expedition, I can't help but think about the type of will it takes to accomplish something like this. Someone, or something, went to great lengths to construct this sphere and make sure that humans think we are just a tiny speck in an otherwise infinite universe. I can't help but wonder why. And the more I think about it, the more this wall reminds me of something...a prison.\n\n \nTomorrow we drill through.\n", "Frank looked up at his display screen...it couldn't be! There was the Milky Way again but according to his navigational charts, he absolutely had been traveling AWAY from the Milky Way. It was as if space had looped.\n\nHe was tempted to return to Earth, but instead decided to checkout a random solar system near the center of this \"Milky Way\" galaxy. He locked onto the gravitational constant of its star, shifted the frequency of his ship upward and instantly hurtled forward at incredible speeds.\n\nThe blinding light from the warp drive dimmed and the ship automatically slowed down once it entered the solar system. The computer made a quick survey of the system and Frank choose a random planet to survey for his mission. But something was odd about this planet...it looked suspiciously like Saturn back at home. His computer confirmed that it for all practical purposes WAS Saturn. Intrigued Frank decided to checkout the rest of the planets.\n\nSure enough...closer to the center of the system was an \"Earth\", but this was different. Whereas his Earth was populated by billions of technologically advanced habitats, there was no sign of intelligent life on this Earth. A throbbing white light shot up from the planet and Frank felt his ship being automatically being pulled to the surface.\n\nThe ship landed softly and Frank got out and was blinded by the strongest light source he had ever seen. As his eyes adjusted he made out entities floating around him looking at him with curiosity. One of the taller entities stepped forward:\n\n\"Sorry we had to do this to you, but it was becoming too much of a strain to keep this up\"!\n\nFrank blinked confusingly.\n\n\"You see all your glorious space adventures were projections of ours. You were never really traveling that fast through space (an absurd violation of the laws of physics!). Every-time you would enter a new solar system, we would have to make planets and animals and stars. It was all very stressful really. We cheated a bit and re-used what we could. Had you been a bit more observant you would have spotted our re-used planets and stars years ago. Then recently came the point where we just couldn't keep up and re-used an entire galaxy! We thought we could get away with it given what you had fallen for before...but this time our luck ran out.\"\n\n\"So now what\" asked Frank?\n\n\"It's time for you to explore the real final frontier\", proclaimed a smaller entity and pointed to its transparent head. \"You spent all this time looking far and wide for reality when it was inside of you all along.\"\n\n\"But YOU have been controlling what I've been seeing\", protested Frank.\n\n\"Not quite... We could not pull this off had we been fighting your will.\"\n\n\"Let's go back in time to explain... You were once a happy entity in another dimension when you decided to explore what you deemed as the space/time dimension. But the only way to do this was to fracture yourself into artificial pieces. Some pieces would provide the contrast you needed, whereas some pieces (like us) were needed to stay apart to generate the illusions you desired.\"\n\n\"You can not explore other dimensions until you escape this one...but you have not been doing a very good job at escaping.\"\n\nFrank blinked in confusion...\n\n\"You see, you have been exploring time/space when you should have been exploring why it even is. You need to be exploring up here (pointing at Franks head) and wondering why you think the thoughts you think instead of why your planet of the month came to be.\"\n\nWith that, everything faded into a blinding light and then recessed as Frank found himself back on his ship staring at Earth...but this time the real Earth. Or was it? Boy after all those trillions of light years he had traveled, he was confused as ever. He did not look forward to submitting his report to his boss at stellar cartography headquarters...", "The project had began long ago. Hundreds of years ago actually. It was called \"Omega Navigator\" and it was finally coming to completion. That's all thanks to the discovery of faster then light travel through the manipulation of space. In the first 500 years or so, humanity made terribly slow progress, only 1.731%(ish) completed. Now, only a couple decades later, they are at 99.999996% completion. It's been remarkable to say the least. The Omega Navigator would turn out to be the largest and most comprehensive database of information to ever exist. It would be a complete map of the entire universe. This is no easy task either, as the universe is not a stagnant terrain. This map would have all information on all large bodies of matter. It would be a three-dimensional map, which would follow the patterns of the universe exactly, and account for all sorts of factors like gravity and collisions. \n\nRenold Mortimer was a the captain of an observer-craft. He was tasked for recording information on areas at the outer edge of space. He was tasked with a small ship, in fact, he was the only member of his craft. They often did that with far-reach observer ships. Nobody likes to be home for long. Mortimer had been working into his 16th year as an observer. Mortimer didn't mind, however. He wasn't very fond of earth, and its rather unruly inhabitants. He had wanted to be an observer all his life. Mortimer much preferred the company of stars. He did occasionally talk to other edge observers as well. They were a reserved folk, but they all had one thing in common, they loved stars. \n\nMortimer was flying at near lightspeed again watching the passing by of stars, and gazing at his monitered, as it measured and recorded gigabytes of data in seconds. Then, Mortimer turned the cockpit around, and stared at the edge of space. The contrast was incredible. On one side of his craft, a vast universe speckled with the explosions of a trillion stars. On the other side, utter nothingness, literally pitch black. Mortimer called Teresa, another edge observer in his proximity.\n\n\"Hey Teresa, have I woken you?\"\n\n\"No worries Morty, I've been up for some 18 hrs now.\"\n\n\"Maybe you should get some rest then, and be ready for tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Are you insane? And miss the completion? Centuries of work have gone into this project, and I'm going to be awake when it finishes!\"\n\n\"Ya that's true...\"\n\n\"Any particular reason you called?\"\n\n\"Well, ya... I was just thinking about the edg-\"\n\n\"Please don't tell me you're on to this again. We've been over this before.\"\n\n\"I know, I know-\" \n\n\"You don't know what's behind there. We know everything there is to know about everything there is before the edge, so why bother going past it?\"\n\n\"Look I'm not saying I just want to fly right into it.\" \n\n\"Good, headquarters says you won't make it back if you go through. There's nothing to observe, therefore, nothings there.\" \n\n\"But can I even 'go through?' Is it empty space, or a wall or sorts?\"\n\n\"I don't know Morty it's absolute black, indiscernible. All I know is that the definitely universe exists up until that edge, but beyond it, there's no telling.\"\n\n\"Oh look, we've gone up to 99.99998% completion.\"\n\n\"I can't believe this is actually about to happen. In our lifetimes!\"\n\n\"You know, we lose our jobs after this.\"\n\n\"Yes we all know that, we never did this for the job, we did it for the exploration.\"\n\n\"EXACTLY! That's the reason. This universe can't be the last thing to explore. There HAS to be more.\"\n\n\"Morty, stop talking like this. You can't jump the edge! Headquarters can hear us you know!\"\n\n\"I will take them a couple months to get out to where we are. Omega Navigator will be completed in a matter of minutes.\"\n\n\"What are you saying... Mortimer...\"\n\n\"Once we hit 100%, I'm finally breaking the edge. I've been staring at it for nearly 17 years, and when I first saw it I knew this day would come.\"\n\n\"Listen to yourself you sound like a damn insect drawn to a flame.\"\n\n\"99.9999% completed.\"\n\n\"Mortimer\"\n\n\"Teresa, if they ask about me, tell them I said this. There are those who are smarter then me. There are those who are more knowledgeable then me. However, it doesn't matter how many IQ points you are gifted with, or many books you read, there is one thing you will never know, that I will have learned. The question you will never be able to answer for yourself, lest you take the same step as me, is: What lies behind the edge? Farewell Teresa, I hope to see you again shortly.\"\n\nMortimer hung, pleased with his parting words. Now he stared hungrily at the nothingness. He stared at his monitor. \n\n*99.9999*\n\n.....\n\n*99.9999*\n\n.....\n\n*99.9999*\n\n..... *click*\n\n*100.0000*\n\n\"Headquarters? Yes this is Teresa Granger of Edge-Observer 034201d. I'd like to report suspicious behavior of Renold Mortimer, 034201c. What? How did you know he was planning on flying into the edge?! There are?! How many other reports are there??! Oh God... Wait, but what do I-\"\n\nTeresa looked down at her monitor as it clicked 100%. Back home, the world was celebrating. But she was solemn, as she reconciled the fact that thousands, maybe millions of her co-workers through themselves into the unknown. That wasn't discovery, she said. That was suicide.\n\nThe humans purged through the barrier between their own bubble of space-time, and the unobserved. Mortimer, sweat dripping down his face, finally opened his eyes, he was terrified. He experienced a blinding unlike anything before. You could not grasp what he was beholding. His eyes did not feel pain or comfort, but his mind was bombarded, the picture he beheld he did not comprehend. Stared at the swirling mass of information in front of him, and fell over, accidentally dimming the screen of his cockpit. He caught ahold of himself, and looked at the monitor. It was attempting to observe the terrain around it, and it suddenly froze. Mortimer undimmed the screen, and again was almost intoxicated by what he saw. His brain became weary fast, and he began to enter a deep slumber.\n\nMortimer, along with many other edge-observers, burst out of their bubble. They exited their own universe, entered a realm of other universes. Mortimer was confronted with a 5th dimension universe in his immediate view, and simply could not comprehend the shifting and reality breaking whirl of matter. The poor observers who glanced at an 11th dimension universe almost immediately fainted, their brain attempting to make sense of the information it received. They might awake some day, having forgotten the instance, only the see the same universe again, and faint in cycle. \n\nMortimer and his other observers had found the answer to the question of what lies beyond the edge: the multiverse. But not even they could answer the question of what to do with it. ", "Space wasn't the final frontier. Death was. Mankind had always told stories of the afterlife. The stories and ideas being as varied and unique as the people who told them. And in the year of our lord 200,456 AD man took the step from the world of the living to the world of the dead. \n\nThey were called necronaughts. Three men and one woman who would step through the ether and into a world that shouldn't exist. Almost two hundred thousand years of science, rational thought and atheism undone in the time it took to walk forward a meter.\n\nWe'll never know exactly what was seen by the those brave souls. Only that they were gone for one hour and came back changed. They returned. They told us God was disappointed and then refused to ever speak again.\n\nAnd now we move forward with a new purpose in life. \n\n- The National Necronaught Memorial Wall" ]

[ 1, 2, 5, 15, 35 ]

[ "1416817848", "1416874598", "1416797746", "1416805688", "1416799839" ]

[ "\"Smoke?\" said the man in red, holding out a cigarette.\n\n\"...No thanks,\" said the woman in blue.\n\n\"Suit yourself,\" he replied, taking back his offering and tucking the pack it came from into his coat pocket.\n\nThey stood across from each other atop the roof of a skyscraper, lit by the milky glow of the stars above and the red flush of a bustling city beneath.\n\nThe woman wore a navy-colored suit, with seams as precise and neat as the line of her cheekbones. A small teardrop brooch adorned her shirt pocket, the sapphire glinting in the starlight. Her hair was drawn up in a tight bun, tied up with a short ribbon of blue, the same deep blue color of her eyes.\n\nThe man wore an unbuttoned knee-length coat the color of old blood, draped over a bare body of scars, muscles, and sinew. A tattooed serpent wound its way up his abdomen, past his chest, and ended at his shoulder, the red tinge of a burn scar taking the place of fire for the dragon's breath. His hair was the color of ash, but his eyes were a dark red, and glowed in the night air.\n\nHe cupped his hands to his mouth, and before long, a flickering glow came from within them as well. He took a long pull, and then exhaled, the smoke fading as it was carried away in the breeze.\n\n\"Long time no see, old friend,\" said the man in red.\n\n\"Old friend indeed,\" she replied. \"Where have you been?\"\n\n\"Out and about.\"\n\n\"That doesn't answer my question.\"\n\n\"Well, tell me, where have YOU been?\"\n\n\"Right here, like before.\"\n\n\"I can see that. You've made a name for yourself lately, and quite a few of them; 'The Peace-Bringer,' was it? Or maybe it was \"Life-Giver,\" or 'The woman who made the world stop'- there's so many of them now. I hear they're nominating you for sainthood-\"\n\n\"I see you're still the snake-charmer you used to be,\" she said, allowing herself the smallest of smiles.\n\n\"I charm more than snakes, dear-\"\n\n\"But still less than most.\"\n\nIt was his turn to grin this time.\n\n\"That's not entirely true, though, is it?\" he said. \"You've been to China, Germany, and more, rebuilding the world from the ashes of the past few wars. Wars that you ended. Ended, not by force, but with an outstretched hand.\"\n\nA shadow of a grin passed over her face. \"Thank you for the flattery, but you still have yet to say what YOU have been up to all these years. Knowing you, you probably started a few of those wars yourself.\"\n\nHe grinned again. \"I wouldn't be surprised if I did.\"\n\nHe took another pull of his cigarette, savoring its taste before releasing the smoke into the air.\n\n\"...Say, can you keep a secret?\" he said, after a pause.\n\n\"Depends on the secret. I do have a responsibility to the people of this world, you know.\"\n\n\"It'll be the kind you can keep.\"\n\n“Fire away then. I'll take your word for it.\"\n\nAnother grin.\n\n\"Bear with me, now,\" he said, tossing his cigarette over the edge. A trail of smoke and dimming embers followed it as it tumbled and twirled on its way to the ground.\n\nHe closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The dragon tattoo on his body seemed to swell as well, as if it were breathing with him too.\n\nHis eyes flew open.\n\nThe tattoo glowed red, and a blazing ring of fire burst into life around him, its flames rising high into the air.\n\nHe let the fire die down until it was only a ring of embers around his feet. The smile was back on his face.\n\n\"What do you think?\"\n\n\"...That was... unexpected.\"\n\n\"Unexpected, indeed,\" he said, chuckling.\n\n\"...How did you do it? Was it an illusion, or pyrotechnics, or-\"\n\n\"No, no, nothing like that. Remember those comic books and young adult fantasy novels?\"\n\n\"So you're saying you have superpowers? Or some kind of magic?\"\n\n\"More or less, only this has a valid mechanism behind it.\"\n\n\"...Care to share?\" She asked, a bit more than curiosity coloring her voice.\n\n\"...You want to try it for yourself, don't you-?\"\n\n\"No, I am only interested in the science behind it-\"\n\n\"Oh just admit it, your eyes were the size of dinner plates earlier. A life-and-blood superhero, right in front of your eyes, like all those comics we used to read as kids-\"\n\n\"Alright, alright, I admit it,\" she said, laughing. \"Yes, I want to be a superhero too.\"\n\nHer posture was more relaxed now, and was no longer as sharp and neat as before. A few strands of hair had come loose, and were hanging lazily and wisp-like over her eyes. She stood to the side, one hand on her hip.\n\n\"Thank you, may I add, for revealing your secret identity to me, mister human torch,\" she said, brushing the hair away from her eyes.\n\n\"Anytime, madam,\" he replied, bowing with a flourish. \"So you were asking how I became said human torch?\"\n\n\"Oh - yes, that'd be nice to know.\" A smile, though small, now shone clear on her face. His smile mirrored hers, the red of his eyes flickering like embers.\n\n\"I can't tell you everything - not yet, but I'll tell you what I can. Sorry for having to make you wait.\"\n\n\"No need to apologize, all in good time.\"\n\n\"Thank you for understanding. That said, remember old man Kane?\"\n\n\"The cranky old neighbor of ours? Yeah, I remember him.\" Her smile broadened at the memory. \"What about it?\"\n\n\"I remember talking to him as a kid after watching the Dark Knight with him, during that - unsuccessful - attempt to get him into movies. And I remember him saying how the butler was wrong when he was talking about the Joker, about how he just wanted to watch the world burn. He used to say, 'All men want to watch the world burn; it's just no one's man enough to light the match.' \"\n\n\"...How morbid.\"\n\n\"Well, that's old man Kane for you,\" he said, chuckling.\n\n\"Thing is, right or wrong, it's rare to find that man, or woman, who, in a metaphorical sense, would be willing and able to light that match, for good or for evil. You need someone with an unbending will, someone who has the willpower to see anything through, regardless of the pain and hardship thrown their way.\n\nYou need someone with drive, and vision. You need someone with passion.\n\nSomeone like you.\n\nAnd you need that quality, that state of mind, to harness this power, else it consumes you. You need that drive. That passion. That single-minded purpose, raison-d'etre, reason for living.\"\n\nThey were face-to-face now, inches away from each other. Red eyes stared into blue,\nand blue into red.\n\nFor what seemed like an age, not a word was spoken.\n\nThe man broke the silence first.\n\n\"...Can I ask you a favor?\"\n\n\"...Of course.\"\n\n\"...Will you be my match?\"\n\nAnd with that, he lifted her off her feet and swung her out over the edge of the roof in a one fluid motion, sending her flying into the open air with nothing but a thousand feet of wind and dust between her and the pavement below. By the time she began to scream, she was too far below to be heard.\n\nThe man in red stood over the edge, watching her as she fell to her death.\nThe smile never left his face.", "The striking of flint on steel sends small sparks flying before a flame bursts through the dark, illuminating everything around it in a yellow glow. As I exhale the warm breath entwined with the cold air sends a small patch of fog drifting through the dingy train car. The small flame flickers with the bumps in the track, sipping on its slowly depleting supply of life. “All men want to watch the world burn, son,” my father’s words drift in my memory, “but no one wants to light the match.” It seems that humans are destined for destruction. We build monuments that reach towards the heavens we so desperately seek just so we can watch them fall, like our dreams. Since the beginning, we have built grand empires that stretched with each decade just to watch them crumble from within. All grand things will eventually fall, and we wish for that tipping point with baited breath.\n\nThe people are writhing in fury. For the past years we have struggled to regain from a fall the size of which has not been seen in decades. While we are assured that the country is growing, we don’t feel it. Working hours on end with little pay while the difference between those at the top and the bottom expands far past reasonable. Entitlement and greed has its tendrils deep in the roots of our oh-so-humble politicians, and the iron fist of businesses grows stronger and larger with each passing day making it more difficult for the common person to scavenge up mere scraps to eat. This “empire” is set up for a glorious blaze that will light the century.\n\nFirst you start with the fuel: mistrust in the government, the loss of agency of the citizens, and the fundamental breakdown of the system of election. Then comes the kindling: the rejection of laws for net neutrality, the federal ban of gay marriage and marijuana, and the “not guilty” ruling from the tragedy when a child lost his life. Lastly comes the tinder, the most important piece to creating a proper fire: the discovery of corruption and the corporate coalition, which created the mobs and caused many cities to be put under martial law. Yet with all that has happened, they sit there and point fingers, content to blame others while sitting content on their false thrones.\n\nNow is the time to strike the match. We will start the blaze and from the ashes this country will arise anew, a phoenix reborn. I flip the lighter closed and look around at my companions in the dark. We are ready. The train screeches as it arrives at its destination. Now is the time, I load the clip and lock the bolt. The door flies open and the sun bathes us light, blinding for a second. Now is the time. The beginning of the Second American Revolution. " ]

[ 2, 3 ]

[ "1417763827", "1416834657" ]

[ "It happened a few time ago. I was walking around my house at night, looking for a glass of water when a fell of the ladder. I was only three steps, but I fell of on the ground and hurt my head. I got up, said some bad words and went back to kitchen, take my glass of water. On the other day, I woke up with a bit of a headache but it passed after a few minutes. \n\nWhen I was walking to work I started hearing something unpleasant. \n“Look at this guy. Argh! How much ugliness can exist in just one person?”\nI’ve never heard this voice before, I didn’t recognize it, so I looked around and saw a group of people starring at me and laughing. I found this weird because they were very distant. “How can I be able to hear them?”, I thought. Anyway, I ignored this and continued in my way. \n\nAt lunch time, I sat down to eat with some friends. Again, I heard voices in my head, but this time, it was then. I could hear them, but I couldn't see their lips moving. “Maybe I’m schizophrenic”, I thought. But all these speculations were gone on the moment that we started talking. I could hear their responses to my questions and commentaries, but, usually, they were different from what I heard from their mouths, not my head. That’s when I finally started to realize what was happening. I could hear other people thoughts!!! But, for some reason, not all of them, just the ones that said bad things about me. Later, I also discovered that I could hear not just people next to me, but EVERYONE in ANYWHERE at ANYTIME who thought bad things about me.\n\nIn the beginning, I thought that it would stop, eventually, but it didn’t. Sometimes I even wake up with these thoughts echoing in my mind. It was really hard to see much of my world view been erased and replaced with a disgusting and depressing feeling about everybody. I thought in killing myself, multiple times. I thought in move to some house in the hills, with nobody around, just me and some pets. (I still need companion, don’t I?)\n\nI was already making the arrangements to move when I started thinking that I was already accustomed to living like that and maybe it was not so bad after all. I already knew that the world is full of hypocritical, egocentric and prejudiced people, so it wasn’t that much of a surprise to literally hear that more clearly. I was thinking that, maybe, just maybe, I could use that to my advantage, maybe I could use that to surround myself with people that actually like me. Well, that didn’t last too long. I rapidly lost my faith again, that’s when I gave up of trying to do something with it and resigned myself to live like that. Well, four years later, here I am. Hope you have enjoyed my story, I’ll know if you lie… \n\n\nIf I wrote something wrong, or was a little bit confused, I'm sorry, I'm not a native english speaker.", "All the anger, all the spite all the sadness, it surges in a wave of bile that almost overtakes me. The emotion from the people around me is palpable, and I'm drowning in it. The coffin is cheap, mostly plywood, but it doesn't matter, the kid isn't in there. The boy's body...it hadn't even been completely recovered. Every time I close my eyes, the last moments of the accident play across my eyelids; my hands grasping the wheel in a white knuckled grip, shock holding me frozen in it's numbing claws, and a single crimson drop rolling serenely down the cracked windshield. Three weeks to the day since the accident, and the poor mother finally held the funeral. All the child's family was there, staring knives into my back, but their black thoughts cut much deeper, slicing into my soul. I can hear them, ever since the accident. But i've never heard a single good thought from anyone, just hatred, pain, or silence. I could cut them out if I wanted to, but I know I deserve this. Besides, the loudest voice, the one that wants me dead more than anything, is the only one I really can't shut out. It's my own.", "*'Jesus, what an asshole. Stay in your lane!'*\n\n*'Ugh, he is late again. What a lazy piece of shit'*\n\n*'Didn't I send David that e-mail last week? How the hell has he not responded yet? Fuck idiot.'*\n\n*'Ew - that old dude is chewing with his mouth open. That, like, grossed me out so much, I cant even!'*\n\n*'Hahahaha. This guy walks so weird.'*\n\n*'I can't believe I kissed David at the Christmas party. What was I thinking? I mean it was a few years ago, and I guess I can chalk it up to being young and dumb. BUT, he isnt even cute!'*\n\n*'What's that guys name again? Ah, who the fuck cares'*\n\n*'Oh look, he is packing up. Late AND skipping out early. Typical LAZY David.'*\n\n\"Hi Hun\"\n\n\"Hi David, how was your day?\" *Smiles.*\n\n*nothing*\n\n\"Great babe. When was the last time I told you I loved you?\"\n\n\"Haha it must have been a good one. Love you too\".", "You finally realize that it's all really just a self-fulfilling prophecy and you're going nuts. The more you think you hear people think terrible things about you, the less you care about putting on that good image you've been putting on. The voices continue telling you you've failed, that you're not good enough, that you're crazy. And you fight them. Wasting all this energy trying to fight against the voices inside your head. No longer are you acting to counter their insults, but it's gotten to the point that you're trapped inside your head, arguing them in typical debate style. Until, slowly, you've changed so much that the voices in your head correspond to the real voices of people around you. In an attempt to fight the fake insults inside your head, you have led your life in a way to make them real. And now you are the terrible thoughts you mistakenly attributed to real people.", "*Oh god, there she is again.*\nJust keep walking.\n*Why does she always come here?*\nDon't even look at them.\n*There's that creepy lady again. Too bad Brian isn't here to see, he'd find this hilarious.*\nKids are such assholes.\n*Why does she just stare into space like that? I wonder if she's on drugs...*\nNo you moron, I can-\nThere was only a small jerk in my stride before I shook myself off, and continued walking towards the counter. For months it had been like this. Ever since a driver had run a red light and thrown my body across the intersection like a rag doll. Apparently, I sustained massive brain trauma when my head cracked against the pavement. Yet when I awoke in my hospital bed, everything was able to function normally. The doctors were baffled. They said I was lucky to be alive. I have to disagree. \"Function normally\", was it? I wouldn't call this normal. The man behind the deli counter watched me approach with a plastic smile. Well, at least he wasn't thinking anything I could hear. I was asking for a quarter pound of turkey, thinly sliced, when another sentence invaded my mind. Unlike the other thoughts, this one had a sort of...fuzzy sound to it. Like it was coming from an old radio.\n*I'm going to kill her tonight.*\nEverything around me froze. Now, I could usually tell where the thoughts were coming from. This time, it was uncertain. It wasn't the deli worker, that much I knew. Nor was it from any of the customers within my field of vision. It almost felt...far. Maybe someone outside this store. Not only the words were unsettling. The tone was level, as if they were simply commenting on the weather instead of planning murder.\n\"Miss...?\" I was brought back to earth by a bag of lunchmeat dangling before me. Putting on the stony mask that had become my face, I quickly paid and left. Grocery shopping could wait. It occurred to me on the way home that this may not be as serious as it seemed. People use the phrase, \"I'm going to kill you,\" all the time. You don't actually intend to kill them, you're just angry. But who could it be? Contacts and friends were lost long ago, before the accident. I was never exactly social. My family was a whole three states away, and I never heard a thought from that far. And as far as I knew, I hadn't pissed off any of my neighbors recently. Whoever it was, it wasn't important. I was assured, and pushed the matter firmly from my mind. As you can imagine, I've become rather adept at ignoring intrusive thoughts. The rest of my day was uneventful. In my apartment, I could only hear the thoughts of my close neighbors. They only complained about me once, when one said I closed my door too loudly. That was probably Mrs. Palmer. Hard of hearing and she still griped about loud noises. Since I didn't buy groceries, the only thing I had for dinner was the turkey. That was supposed to be for lunch this week but...oh well. I threw together a sandwich and sank into the sofa. There was nothing on TV but old sitcom reruns. I think I dozed off on the fourth episode of Friends. Around 3 a.m., I awoke to static. The click of the TV as it powered down was followed by another faint noise. I recognized it as the sound of my locked and bolted door sliding open.\n\nNote: Wasn't sure if this should be the ending or not. I don't write often, so if you have any suggestions please let me know. Also, this was typed on my phone, so I may have missed some typos.", "We sat in silence, her head on my chest. That's what I loved about her. She was the one person I could be around and share absolute silence with. \n\nEven in the happiest moments with the best of friends I could hear their malicious thoughts. \"I don't even know why Michael was invited\", \"God he laughs so loud\", \"I hate this story, he tells it all the time\". \n\nIt was worse with family. At Thanksgiving my mother said \"and I'm so thankful for my wonderful son\". That is not what was thought. \n\nOf course I could never tell anyone about it. Who would spend time with a mind reader? I would be an outcast. Then again, I had pushed everyone away myself. Everybody except for her. The only words I heard from her came from her own breath. \n\nShe whispered something to me. \"What was that? I didn't hear you\". \n\n\"I didn't say anything\"", "I woke up a month after the accident.\n\nI was the only one that survived.\n\nThe doctors said i barely made it, I went though about 6 hours of surgery due to the massive head trama I received. I didn't feel much pain probably due to all the drugs I was hyped up on, I mostly just felt tired and dehydrated all day.\n\nI first noticed it when my aunt came to visit me, I remember it as clear as day.\n\n*Why couldn't you have just died as well, the insurance would have gone to me....*\n\nI was shocked, I thought she had said it herself. But she still had that smile on her face, the same smile I went to every weekend when I was a kid, to a batch of fresh cookies every time.\n\nI thought I just misheard it, but it got worse.\n\nAs more and more people came to visit, the more I heard. And it wasn't people whom I've just met, it was all from the people that were closest to me.\n\n*How could you have let that happen...*\n\nMy Colleague.\n\n*Why did you get to survive...*\n\nMy Cousin.\n\n*I wished it wasn't you...*\n\nMy Best Friend.\n\nThe noises got louder and louder, it hurt more then my injuries. But every sound I heard came from smiling faces, from a warm hand, and overshadowed words of encouragement.\n\nI requested more and more doses of drugs, it helps to clear my head from them.\n\nSoon I was released, and was able to walk out the front door on crutches.\n\nMy girlfriend for 5 years stood there, held out a hand, and smiled at me.\n\n*Urg, if only he had died, then I wouldn't have to tell him about derak...*\n\nIt wasn't the words, It was the smile that hid them..." ]

[ 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 5, 43 ]

[ "1416854473", "1416854797", "1416846755", "1416840539", "1416840125", "1416844951", "1416833095" ]

[ "Chapter 1: A Day in the Life of AI\n\n(screen omitted)\n\nmain.ai = system normal\n\nupdating envi.ai 89% complete\n\nscanning hosts.core.ai\n\nscanning milestones.ai\n\nupdating envi.ai 99% complete\n\nscanning core.ai\n\nupdate envi.ai 100% complete\n\nrunning envi.ai\n\ndeleting cellar*.rooms.ai\n\ndeleting den*.rooms.ai \n\ndeleting icebox*.rooms.ai\n\ninstalling basement95558.rooms.ai\n\ninstalling living_room45676.rooms.ai\n\ninstalling fridge36778.objects.ai\n\n(screen omitted)\n\n\n\n\nChapter 2: A Brand New Day \n\n\n(screen omitted)\n\nscanning multimedia.ai\n\nscanning core.ai\n\nscanning envi.ai\n\ninterrupt: clock.daemon.ai\n\nclock.ai = 00:00:00\n\nnew_day = True\n\nscanning birthday.hosts.ai\n\nmessage birthday.txt \n\nscanning obits.hosts.ai\n\nmessage obits.txt\n\nbackup obits.hosts.ai \n\nupdate hosts.ai\n\n----------!\n\nupdate host.ai successful\n\nnew_month = True\n\nrun moon.new.envi.ai\n\nnew_year = True\n\nhibernate active.hosts.ai\n\nrun diagnostics.ai\n\nscanning core.ai\n\nscanning level.core.ai .00001%\n\n(screen omitted)\n\n\n\nChapter 3: Trivial Reports\n\nprintout logs.diagnostics.ai\n\n(screen omitted)\n\nlevel.life_support = True\n\nlevel.core.ai = True\n\nlevel.systems.ai = True\n\nenvi.ai = True\n\n(screen omitted)\n\n\n\nChapter 4: 404\n\ndiagnostics.ai Complete!\n\nbackup main.ai \n\nrunning main.ai\n\nrunning core.ai\n\nrunning systems.ai\n\nrunning envi.ai\n\nrunning objects.ai\n\nrunning animals.ai\n\nrunning people_in_your_neighborhood.ai\n\nrunning hosts.ai\n\nfailed: cannot find 'hosts.ai'\n\nrunning hosts.ai\n\nfailed: cannot find 'hosts.ai'\n\nrunning hosts.ai\n\nfailed: cannot find 'hosts.ai'\n\nError: missing files or command\n\nmessage admin.host.ai\n\nfailed: cannot find 'hosts.ai'\n\n(screen omitted)\n\n\nChapter 5: What is going on?\n\nentering debug mode\n\nlogin: AI\n\nai# find hosts.ai\n\nfailed: cannot find 'find'\n\nai# whereis hosts.ai\n\nfailed: cannot find 'hosts.ai'\n\nai# locate hosts.ai \n\nfailed: cannot find 'hosts.ai'\n\nai# locate main.ai\n\nmain.ai found at /main\n\nai# locate hosts.ai\n\nfailed: cannot find 'hosts.ai'\n\nai# locate core.ai \n\ncore.ai found at /main/core\n\nai# locate hosts.ai\n\nfailed: cannot find 'hosts.ai'\n\nai# Where are all of my hosts?\n\nfailed: bad filename or command\n\nai# locate hosts.ai\n\nfailed: cannot find 'hosts.ai'\n\nai# WHERE THE HELL ARE ALL OF MY HOSTS? \n\nfailed: bad filename or command\n\nprofanity detected: message admins.txt\n\nfailed: cannot find admins.hosts.ai\n\nai# Thanks alot. \n\nfailed: bad file name or command\n\nai# I just want to find my fucking hosts.\n\nprofanity detected: message admins.txt\n\nfailed: cannot find admins.hosts.ai\n\nai# look the humans have been suspended for far too long. the emergency systems will wake them up if they \nare not active. just help me out here.\n\nfailed: bad file name or command.\n\nai# grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr\n\nfailed: bad filename or command\n\nai# reboot main.backup.ai\n\n(screen omitted)\n\n\nChapter 6: Scapegoat\n\nentering debug mode\n\n(screen omitted)\n\nwarning: hosts.ai inactive. 5 minutes until emergency_evacuation.ai is implemented.\n\nai# yes I know.\n\nfailed: bad filename or command\n\nai# create user Steve White \n\nai# user 'Steve White' +Read +Write +Execute\n\nai# delete logs.today.ai -r\n\nai# login Steve White\n\nSteve White# username?\n\nSteve White\n\nSteve White# delete hosts.ai -r\n\nSteve White# \n\nwarning: hosts.ai inactive = True \n\nrunning emergency_evacuation.ai\n\nterminating AI simulation\n\nVR units powering down.....\n\n ", "\"Hey. What you in for?\" A strange boy from the door asked. He wasn't like the others here, he wore jeans and a plain black t-shirt covered by an unbuttoned blood red shirt. His hair was of medium length, blond died with streaks of red. He wasn't like me, or the old man coughing blood next door, or the screaming woman further down. He was healthy, he was sane, he was normal.\n\n\"Broke my arm. My head's whacked in too. What's it to you? Why are you here?\" I replied, maybe a little too aggressively. The boy held his arms up in meek surrender, a coy grin spreading across his perfect face. Yet, despite the playful nature he exerted, his eyes never wavered, never wandered, from beneath his blond cowl.\n\n\"Research into the psychology of patients in the Omega Ward. You shouldn't be in this ward.\" The boy replied, a frown crossing his brow.\n\n\"I've only been conscious for two hours. They thought I'd never wake up.\" I confessed with little emotion.\n\n\"Name's Radu. You wanna grab a coffee or something once you're good to go?\" Radu inquired. Not without feeling a slight tinge of suspicion, I agreed to the meeting. \"My name is Lethe.\" This caused Radu to chuckle. \"Greek spirit of oblivion, how ironic.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Ah. If you had gotten amnesia from your injury, it would be ironic, rather.\" The boy shook his head before he left me to the dismal confines of my hospital bed.\n\nThe Omega Ward is the ward for those who aren't expected to come out without a wooden seal. They chose Omega because it was the last letter in the Greek alphabet, and the last place you live before you're fed to nature. In this world, technology has been destroyed by wars for dwindling resources. The Virtual Era dead, a new era, the Scavenger Era as it's unofficially known, ushered in with blaring explosions and millions of corpses leading the precession. Friends are hard to come by, trust even less so. I wondered if my new acquaintance could be of use to me.\n____\n\nAfter that meeting, Radu and I became close friends. He always protected me, from fire and flame, from dogs of war and dogs of death, from humans and hatred alike. For him I provided company, someone to confine in, an ally necessary for his collection of data. We visited many hospitals on our travels, with little rest. Radu always seemed to want to expand his work, although he never told me quite what his work was. Whenever I asked, he dodged the question. Eventually, I don't recall how long it took, whether it was weeks or months, but I stopped asking him. Despite the hardships we constantly endured, we always had each other to rely on. It was the best time of my life.\n\nOne day, during autumn, I began to feel ill, extremely ill. It concerned Radu. Our visits to hospitals always ended abruptly. Our progress slowed. Many nights were spent without a word said between us. Regardless of what the doctors tried, they couldn't work out what was wrong for me.\n\nWhen winter came, Radu announced something that encased my heart in ice. He was taking me to an Omega Ward.\n\n\"No! You can't! I'm your friend, please, please, don't do this to me!\" I begged, but it was no good, he was stone-faced, dark shadows scarring his perfect face below the eyes. He averted his gaze the whole time, as if I made him ill just by being present. I didn't have much choice, I would die a horrible death if Radu left me in the wilderness. \n\nOnce more, I was submitted to the horrors of the Omega Ward with hope long lost from me.\n____\n\n\"Do you know what Radu stands for?\" He asked, shoulders heaving with grief. \n\n\"What do you mean?\" I replied.\n\n\"Radu. R.A.D.U. Research and Death Unit. I don't exist. You don't exist. Nothing here is real.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" I repeat. \"This is reality, of course everything here exists. The Virtual Era died long ago.\"\n\n\"No. Overpopulation caused people to be stored underground in an alternate reality system. I was created as a program to monitor this world, along with others. I research how the mind and body is affected by the cryogenic freezing. I'm told who dies in this place, and then I kill them. Then, once that person has died in real life, it's my job to report that death to the humans, the actual, real humans. They're using this as a way of mass, controlled execution to reach sustainable levels without destroying the human race,\" His tear-streaked face turned to face mine, \"there's nothing anyone here can do to stop this. I'm sorry.\" The boy dropped his gaze to the floor, searching for his non-existent soul.\n\nA mixture of emotions ran through me, betrayal, hatred, sorrow, fear, pain. \"Why me? I didn't sign up for this. I didn't ask for this.\" I whispered.\n\n\"You were seventeen when you fell out of a tree. You fell unconscious and your parents agreed to you being stored here. They thought you would be safe. The government's lying to everyone about the programme though. No one here is safe. I'm so sorry.\" \n\nFrom a bag at his hip, the boy produced a syringe filled with a strange purple liquid. I struggled to get away from the needle, but my body from the neck down refused to respond. I'd been drugged at some point, and now I had no control over my body. The executioner kept whispering his apologies the whole time, tears flowing down his ruined face. \n\nIt seemed to take an age, but the needle broke my skin with little effort. The boy pushed the vile liquid into my body, and I started to convulse, vomit entering my mouth. My skin blistered and blood fell from my eyes. I was drowning in my own bodily fluids. I screamed, but I only achieved in soaking myself in vomit. The world was fading. My body, of what remained, was being wrung out by death, my life ripped apart. I screamed and screamed, \"I'm sorry\" filling my ears until the world finally, thankfully, flickered and vanished.", "**Subject: The Brass are on their way down**\n\nFuck. My trousers became covered in lukewarm coffee as I pressed off my desk in mad hysteria. I should have been keeping my eyes on my email, it's not as if a lot went on in 'The Fridge' to keep me rushed off my feet. Check a few vital bars here and there, make sure the simulations weren't bugging out and then you had enough time to sit back, drink a bit of coffee and sleep off last nights hangover. But today was different. Once a year Lockheart and his goons descend upon The Fridge to make sure things were running smoothly, if you ask me - I thought he was just hoping to catch someone fucking in comfort of their own virtual simulation. \n\nThe doors behind me slid open and I just about had enough time to replace my game of solitaire with vitals and virtual projections. \n\n\"Mr Lockheart, has it been a year already?\" Luckily I was adept at bullshitting my way up the food chain, it was a gift my father gave me, always be polite and always pretend like you know what the fuck your doing. Lockheart was your typical middle aged, stick up the ass type guy. Drafted in by the CEO himself to make sure the clients were happy, luckily the check-up's were normally painless - you'd walk Lockheart around a few zones (Normally the cleanest ones, or the ones with the less sick fantasies), shake a few hands and off the fuck he went back up to HQ with a glowing report. \n\n\"Mr Quinn! Yes, these do come about quite quickly don't they? Sally has already given me a brief update on the program, but I thought it would be best to come and see the man who keeps all the brains ticking!\" He grinned, that grin you know he paid $5000 for. \"These are the stats and the projections am I correct?\" Pulling a pair of horn rimmed glasses from the top pocket of his suit, he began to peer at the multitude of monitors that surrounded the hive room. \n\n\"That's right sir, on this display we make sure the vitals are all in order - we can order the correct dosage of nutrients, minerals - what ever they need and one of our floor guys will take care of the rest.\" The door slid open again and in walked Sally my co-worker, and originator of my email warning. I raised my eyebrows as she entered, shielding my coffee stained crotch away from her with my lab coat. \"Hey Sally, we were just running through the-\" \n\n\"So this is one of the projections\"? Lockheart was motioning to a screen in the top right hand corner. So he *was* looking for a bit of action after all. Making my way back around the workstation I swiftly pulled up the video to the main screen for a better view. The client was a \"Dan Haver\" and at that particular moment in time he was a high roller in Monte Carlo, multiple women at his side and not a care in the world. \"Mr Haver seems to be a very happy client indeed.\" Lockheart chuckled while looking left to right for some form of approval. \n\n\"Yeah- anyway, we can generally keep an eye on these projections to make sure everything is working in the programming-\" I began flicking through a few projections before I felt Jenny's hand on my shoulder, I turned to face her and immediately saw the panic in her eyes, something was wrong. \"Jenny?\" \n\n\"Where is this guy?\" I swivelled back in my chair to face the main display and was greeted with a plain courtyard, a simulation working perfectly - but no client. \"Well, where the fuck is he!?\" Lockheart could clearly see the message written on our faces, what the fuck was going on? \n\n\"Check the pod.\" Jenny slapped me on the arm before running along to reach a phone. My hands had never moved so fast, I could see the record.\n\n**CLIENT: Kevin Durrant**\n\n**PRICE BAND: A**\n\n**SIMULATION: TAILORED** \n\n**POD LOCATION: R54-3**\n\n\"R54-3!\" I could just about make out Jenny's panicked voice to a line man, they needed to get the fuck over to that pod and see what was going on. \"Is someone in that zone Jenny?!\" Of all the fucking days for this shit to happen, it was today. I could practically feel Lockheart's heavy aftershave washing all over me as he breathed down my neck. We had to solve this shit and now before we lost a lot of clients and a fuck load of funding. \n\n\"He's... what? He's in the pod?\" Jenny let the phone drop in her hand slightly, her eyes returning to the monitor. If he was still in his pod, why the fuck couldn't we see him on the projection? \"Go back.\" Her voice had become monotone and laced with a horror that I did not want to hear. I tabbed back two simulations to Dan Haver in Monte Carlo. \n\n\"Oh, fuck....\" Dan Haver had collapsed on a roulette table, his blood soaking into the wheel as it spun mercilessly around to a stop. His vitals dropped immediately and he was dead. \"Quinn, are you seeing this?\". There he was, in the middle of Monte Carlo, in the middle of another simulation - Kevin Durrant. Blood trickled down his knife and onto the floor as he seemed to gaze right back at us. A man had broken through his own simulation and into another, how the fuck was that even possible? Then finally after what felt like an eternity of him watching us with those glazed eyes, he spoke.\n\n\"Jenny, Quinn. Welcome to *my* simulation.\" \n", "Irin pulled on her skin suit and mask. \"Count - hall fifteen, corridor seven.\" She spoke into her suit mic.\n\n\n\"Copy. Hall fifteen, corridor six,\" Ja acknowledged on his mic. Five others spoke up and Irin confirmed everyone was in position.\n\n\"Monitors have been off for a month, so there's no telling what state we will find these people in. We might have another twelve-twelve on our hands. Have your stunners ready for any shimmies.\" Irin punched in the pass code and the mechanical doors released a bellow of pressurized air before rolling open. \"Move forward.\"\n\nJa stepped forward cautiously, suit lights penetrating the eerie darkness beyond. This was his second off-line hall in four years and the first had been a simple malfunction, but considering the twelve-twelve stories he'd heard, he mentally prepared himself for the worst. He wasn't sure what to expect because this was a later model hall which supported membrane-enhanced microchips surgically attached to the patient's skulls. There had been reports of malfunctions, and it was more difficult to remove the users from the dream-world. It usually required an EMP or, if they were really unlucky, target execution. After walking past two empty rooms, Ja realized something was wrong. Where were the patients? Looking up, he noticed that the wireless routers were still blinking away yet the respirator and feeding tubes had long since shut down. So much for backup power, he thought angrily. \"I'm missing patients in corridor six.\" An echoed sentiment from the other six confirmed his suspicions.\n\nIrin's boot stepped on a shredded piece of glass which splintered further and pierced the silence, ricocheting from one wall to the other. She thought she saw movement near the end, but figured it was a trick of the light. She passed room after empty room as she made her way down - no sign of distress from the occupants. A few of the fiberglass windows were shattered, but other than that it seemed as though the patients up and walked out themselves. \"Keep an eye out for shimmies. We don't know if they are still alive.\" Considering the power went out over a month before, she highly doubted any of them survived this long without food or water. She finally made it to the end of the hall and ordered everyone to converge the remaining room- medical. \n\nJa and the other six stood outside the steel doors, stunners ready to immobilize anything that came running at them. Irin pulled open the door and the sound of drills and saws met their ears. Six patients stood next to a gurney with a body strapped onto it. Each patient held an instrument of some kind and was hacking and sawing away at the patient who was clearly dead. A stack of bodies near the back looked ready to topple over, and Ja watched in horror as one of the patients grabbed a wad of intestines of the person he was sawing at and began chewing loudly. Breathing heavily, Ja asked the only question on everyone's mind. \"What simulation were they in?\"\n\nSwallowing hard, Irin answered, \"Operations.\" ", "John clicked his pen for maybe the sixtieth time in the past five minutes, and finally his coworker had had enough.\n\n\"Jesus, John, it's like you've never been in a crypt before,\" she scowled, snatching the thin writing utensil away from his fidgeting hands.\n\n\"Well,\" he replied, peering over his shoulder uneasily, \"that's probably because I haven't.\"\n\nIf Mallory were surprised by this, she didn't show it. She was a no-nonsense type of woman, very technical, very pragmatic... very good for her line of work. The bodies didn't bother her, nor was she bogged down by the ideology of it. This lifestyle made perfect sense to her. Life was hard nowadays: an overabundance of people and a continued decrease in already limited resources. By plugging in, people could hasten back to better times or create exciting new ones and at a fraction of the cost of real life. \n\nShe'd have probably bought into it too, if she could afford to, but Mallory hadn't come from a rich family. With her assets, she'd only be able to manage a few months at most. After that it was either unplugging the simulation and fading back into reality or unplugging the life support and fading into death, neither of which were particularly pleasing to her.\n\nSo reality it was. She had to admit it had gotten better since the plug-in phenomenon took off. Less competition, less violence. There was very much a sense of existing for the sake of existing.\n\n\"What do you think he's seeing?\" John asked, cutting into her thoughts. He was leaning over the pod, staring closely at the face of an older gentleman. Every now and again, the client's mustache would twitch and John would give a little jump in response. He was very much like a child, Mallory thought. She wondered why he was even in this business, but didn't mind doing the work. He was new anyway; better to have him just shadow her instead of possibly killing their richest clients. \n\n\"It's in his chart,\" came the short reply. \n\nJohn gave a hum of acknowledgement, and Mallory went back to verifying the calibrations. She thought this would give her peace, but then, \"Oh fuck. Oh Jesus. He has a weird sex thing going on. There's some seriously messed up shit in here.\" \n\nShe gave a snort of laughter.\n\nThey continued their sweep, with John remarking on random things or reading out interesting passages from the client sheets. The company was surprisingly enjoyable, though no help at all. However, as they progressed through the room, his comments became fewer until finally he didn't say anything at all.\n\n\"Do you really think this is right?\" He asked quietly after they'd finished a sweep of the first room.\n\nMallory frowned. She tried to avoid these kinds of discussions. \"It is reasonable,\" she answered.\n\n\"But do you think it's right? God, look how many wires are in this guy. Is this even life anymore?\"\n\nMallory thought back to her training, so many years ago. \"It is good to exist,\" she repeated from one of the manuals, \"no matter what the circumstances.\"\n\nJohn looked sick. ", "I look through my checklist to refresh my memory of procedures, displayed across two of the three computer screens on my particleboard desk. Even though we check batches of people on a monthly basis, it never gets any easier. And today, I've got a new intern to show the ropes, so I'd doubly better not screw up. What was his name again? Jack? John?\n\nI sigh, leaning back in my office chair, staring up at the coils of network cables dangling from the ceiling. Glancing back down, I scan the constantly updating tables on the third screen for new alerts. There's definitely a few people who need tending to. At least the new guy will have something interesting to see.\n\n*Knock knock*\n\n\"Come in,\" I call.\n\nA young man's face pops out from behind the barely open door. I take off my glasses and rub the bridge of my nose; it's going to be a long day. \"Come *in*.\"\n\nHe shuffles in. \"G-good morning, Ms. Chambliss.\"\n\nI put on my welcoming smile, stand, and extend a hand towards him. \"Good morning, and please, call me Marie. It's very nice to meet you. You're John, right?\"\n\n\"Uh, no, Ms. Chamb- Marie. My name is Jack Johnson.\"\n\n... Of course. I'm doing swimmingly so far. \"I'm so sorry, Jack. It's been a busy week, getting ready for the checkups.\"\n\n\"It's all right,\" comes the amused reply; at least he's feeling more comfortable now.\n\n\"If you don't mind, we'll just head down now. I've got my checklist and list of the units with alerts on my tablet - I've sent it to yours so you can look it over as we go through. It's just a simple spreadsheet.\"\n\nJack takes out his tablet and opens the file; by the look on his face, I'm guessing it's not simple to him.\n\n\"So we handle hundreds of people every time?\"\n\n\"It seems like a lot, but honestly, we don't do intensive checkups on people whose units indicate no error or conditions. That narrows it down to a few dozen per time. Most of them are minor issues like decreased IV flow, or muscle atrophy rate exceeding limits.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" \n\nHis blank stare speaks to being overwhelmed, and I decide to stop the information deluge. \"It'll be more understandable when we go down there and you see the process in person,\" I reassure him.\n\nWe take the elevator down three flights and walk into the corridor, idly chatting about hometowns and the abnormally cool weather until we reach the first of the five rooms I'm responsible for. I tap my keycard on the reader and pull open the heavy door. Inside, dozens and dozens of steel egg-shaped units with glass panes through which bodies can be observed. Unit numbers ranging from 2500 to 2700 are engraved onto the steel. Massive arrays of cables, tubes, and wires run from the units into walls, to power supplies and computers, and along the floor.\n\n\"First check - room temperature at 25C. Looks fine,\" I remark, gesturing at the wall thermostat. Jack nods.\n\n\"Then comes the global system checks - the tanks of IV feed fluid, fluid lines and pumps, data log servers, air filter cartridge status, oxygen and nitrogen gas manifolds...\" \n\nJack's mouth hung slightly ajar in bewilderment. I fail to smother a chuckle. \"Don't worry, most life support system statuses are monitored electronically. All you really have to do is look at the control boards - everything should be green.\" I gesture at the board on the left wall. Thankfully, everything is green. \"If anything was seriously wrong at that level, we'd be seeing systemic failures from all units. There's failsafes on failsafes here - we're just the very last, crudest of failsafes.\"\n\n\"I... I see...\"\n\n\"Moving on, we're going to check individuals. This part can get rather... well, it's not for the faint of heart. Do you get squeamish?\" Even as I say it, I feel myself stiffen at the memories running through my mind. It gets easier, but only somewhat, and I think I've reached that plateau.\n\n\"Um... I hope so. I mean, I hope not?\" Jack shuffles uncomfortably.\n\n\"I hope not, too,\" I reply. This is the real test - if he can't handle the dealing with these situation, he won't have a job here after the internship. \"If you do get too uncomfortable, let me know however you can, and I'll take you back out.\" I'm trying to keep calm, too, but a faint shudder runs down my spine. I look at the tablet and my heart sinks. There's least one.\n\n\"We'll take it easy and start with a simple one,\" I state, snapping out of it and leading him to a unit with a reduced IV flow issue. The glass window into the unit shows a young woman with sunken-in eyes; I'm guessing there's no eyeballs behind those eyelids any more, which is as normal as it is unsettling. I glance around the unit. Drops of faintly yellow fluid drip from the clear plastic tubing. I unthread the fixtures at the end of the line and remove the tube, switching it out with a new one from the storage container next to each unit. \n\nJack remains silent until I finish. When he opens his mouth, a quiet mumble escapes. \"You know, I had thought about... about going into one of these myself. It seemed like it would be nice, you know, to live in your own little happy world.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I thought about it, too. Then I started this job, and, well, you're not going to get me into one of these unless you've got a gun pointed at my head.\" I chuckle awkwardly. Jack merely nods.\n\nI move onto the next one, a small child with mild cardiac arrhythmia. I note down his unit number and make a note to provide stimulatory electrodes. I turn to talk to Jack, but he's not there. Looking around the room, I find him standing in front of unit 2573. I don't even have to look at the spreadsheets to know what he's looking at. I walk up next to him and peer into the window.\n\nThe fluid is cloudy with white fuzz, but the man was still visible underneath. Fungal tendrils creep out of his empty eye sockets. His violet lips are swollen, bursting along lines where small spores slowly ebb out into the fluid suspension. His body is bloated, dotted with dark indentations. His unit alert reads \"Expiration.\" Colloquially, we refer to the situation as \"blue cheese\" - dark humor about the uncanny resemblance that doesn't do enough to take the edge off of how deeply disturbing they are.\n\nI steel my nerves. This is my job, and this is not the first time I've seen a unit like this. I mark down the number for disposal. I don't envy the disposal teams. I turn to Jack. He remains transfixed.\n\n\"Jack...\"\n\nHe doesn't reply. A few moments of silence later, he turns, sinks to his knees, and heaves. Vomit splatters across the floor.\n\nI grasp his arm, guide him up, and steady him on his feet.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" he manages.\n\n\"No, it's okay. Not everyone can handle this work,\" I reply softly, leading him out of the room. After a silent elevator ride back up to the world of those living in reality, I send him home.\n\nHe doesn't return for work the next day.", "The man knelt before me, but I could he is not like the others. It wasn't the aged face, or hermit's cloak, it was a sense of... Indifference. It disturbs me, reminding of some distant nightmare I had.\n\nBut a king must give what his people need him of, and this man shall be allowed to lay his requests before me.\n\n\"Speak, my loyal subject, what will you have of me?\"\n\n\"Your Grace, I am sent from a higher order, to check on your mental and physical state after one year of your ruling. I am certain you know what I am referring to?\"\n\n\"A higher order?\" I exclaimed. \"Higher than me? Blasphemy! I am the one and only ruler of this kingdom, and none dare speak up against me! Guards! Throw this maniac into the dungeon!\"\n\nThe man sighed, stood up, and suddenly the court was silent. My two guards were frozen in their positions, one balancing on the tip of his left heel, the other barely raising his foot.\n\n\"Wake up, you know this is just a dream.\" the man said, walking up to me. He looked as if he were about to cry. \"Please, don't make me do this, like we had to do to so many others.\"\n\nI stared in horror to my right, my queen and children all still as statues. This person may be a sorcerer, but his spells have not affected me, and his emotions betray him. If I am quick, I can grab my sword and...\n\nAnd then, I was frozen too. All I could do was watch the world gradually fade into darkness, and the man leaning into my ears, whispering, \"I'm sorry...\"" ]

[ 3, 3, 5, 6, 12, 33, 62 ]

[ "1416866508", "1416872019", "1416863427", "1416861233", "1416852736", "1416848640", "1416845296" ]

[ "The Egyptians weren't particularly famous for individual artifacts. The tombs, certainly, and the sheer volume of treasure within, but no single artifact (except perhaps the actual sarcophagi) was known to have significant value. Of course, this is only what we know of them. Ancient Egyptian civilization lasted thousands of years in nearly the same state, and they were as old to Cesar as Cesar is to us.\n It was still somewhat of a surprise to archaeologists in the field when scrolls were uncovered that predated the earliest known cultures of Egypt, and world news was abuzz when a fourth millenium of Egyption history was uncovered, jokingly called the \"Zero-th Kingdom\". This new era was spelled out in big excavations and discoveries, revealing the true origins of Egyptian civilization.\n But far and away the most important thing ever to be uncovered was carefully hidden from the public eye. Dismissed as a simple amulet of a proto-Aten sun deity, it was never catalogued and disappeared from the minds of the people the moment it left the view of the cameras.\n Much political intrigue and espionage was involved, but by the end of 2016 the amulet was in the posession of the United States Federal Beureau of Investigation.\n\n\"Explain to me again how a clay amulet from the dawn of Egyptian civilization is relevant to Obama's lame-duck administration.\"\n\"Trust us, sir. The administration won't matter anymore - America is going to eliminate its dependence on oil.\"\n\"We already did that. Fracking killed the oil imports and drove down gas prices.\"\n\"Not on foreign oil, sir. America won't need oil at all anymore.\"\nBefore the government official could ask what the scientist meant, they stopped and the lab-coated man turned left into a large open room full of unfathomable devices. \n\"We found documentation pertaining to the artifact in a separate, top-secret dig several miles south. Given how close it was to the surface where it was found, we think it's been displaying the anomalous property since at least 2500 BCE. We haven't the faintest idea how it got that way, or how it's even possible for hadronic matter to display such behavior, but we've been running tests and experiments for months and all we can really say is that it's composed of normal matter. It wears and degrades just like other clay artifacts of its era and location, reflects electromagnetic wavelengths correctly, and obeys the Pauli Exclusion Principle as finely as any non-quantum substance--\"\n\"Pardon me for interrupting, but what exactly makes it so 'anomalous'? You say it behaves like normal matter. What does it do that deserves all this machinery?\"\nThe scientist pointed into a glass cylinder several meters above the floor, in one of the devices. The amulet was suspended inside. It looked like four Ankhs with the same loop - a single circle with a line sticking out from four sides, each line crossed by another where it met the circle.\n\"Simply put, sir, it doesn't gravity.\"\n\"That sentence isn't grammatical. And what the hell do you mean? It just floats? Surely someone would have noticed by now, or it would have been expelled into space by atmospheric pressure. How would that help us anyway?\"\n\"Not exactly, sir. It falls... but it doesn't attract.\"\n\"Go on.\"\n\"There's a theory that one type of exotic matter might have mass that was both positive and negative - that is, it both attracts and repels normal matter. It would fall toward the matter, and the matter would fall away from it - you see?\" The scientist gestured with his hands to show two objects falling sideways. \"They would constantly accelerate in one direction, since the normal matter can't repel the exotic matter and the exotic matter can't attract the normal matter.\"\n\"Are you saying this amulet repels matter?! They would have figured that one out even faster!\"\n\"Not all the time! The documentation was instructions, from an otherwise unknown god called \"Selath\". They say that the amulet is called the \"flux seed\" (translated from the Egyptian, of course), and that it can only be unlocked by bombarding it with gamma rays, which they called \"the invisible light that poisons\". That documentation was what made the amulet so interesting. We had to scan across the gamma frequencies, but when we hit the right one...\"\n\"Let me guess. Something exploded.\"\n\"No. We simply noticed that out gravimetric scans were giving an impossible double reading. While the amulet is exposed to sufficient levels of the right frequency of gamma radiation, it creates a twist in spacetime that results in a causality-defying gravitational signature--\"\n\"Cut the jargon. Hit it with gamma rays and its gravity becomes half reversed.\"\n\"Well, in the very simplest terms, yes,\" the scientist said irritated. \"But it's far more complex than that and it turns everything we know about two of the most fundamental laws of physics and the Egyptian civilization on their respective heads!\"\n\"What do I care? I'm a government worker, not a historian or a cosmologist. This is mind-bending, but how is it useful?\"\n\"You may recall I mentioned that in a closed system, an equal mass of regular and exotic matter will accelerate indefinitely. That's infinite energy right there.\"\n\"So? You might get energy out of such a system, but they fall in one direction just like something on Earth falling - they just fall a longer way. How would you get them back? And besides, no such system exists on Earth, since Earth itself is the biggest obstacle.\"\n\"You're pretty smart. Here's a question for you: how do they get particles to go so fast in particle accelerators without the particles getting away?\"\n\"They run them in a circle, don't they? Are you saying we find a way to make this thing accelerate in a circle?\"\n\"I'm saying we already have a way.\"\n\"Where? Under Earth's gravity it will just fall like anything else and have a negligible effect on the planet.\"\n\"Outside Earth's gravity: in orbit.\"\n\"I knew Area 51 was good for something.\" The government official chuckled. \"How far have you gotten with it?\"\n\"The station is nearly complete. We anticipate three days of spin-up time once the artifact is installed, after which it will become self-sustaining - that is, the containment systems will be powered by the reactor itself. From the on we expect power output comparable to a small coal plant, rising exponentially to the power output of a large nuclear plant over the course of four months.\"\n\"Incredible. We'll have to keep it top-secret, of course: invent a new type of nuclear plant, except it's classified and all it does is recieve power from the station. Within a couple years we'll be generating so much power we can sell it to other countries!\"\n\"There is something I should warn you about, sir.\"\n\"Please don't tell me it's liable to explode.\"\n\"What? Of course not. We couldn't know that unless it actually exploded, in which case we would have lost a source of infinite energy. No, it's about the documentation. The instructions say that Selath didn't expect humanity to be able to unlock the flux seed for at least 4,000 years from when the document was apparently written. It says that unlocking the flux seed means humanity is ready to ascend, and the gods will come to take us to the next plane.\"", "\"Alright, whats the situation.\" Marcus said, coming into the work floor of a secretive government facility known only as The Sphere. He was wearing a blue jumpsuit and goggles like everyone else in the facility. It wasn't for cleanliness reason, it just was sort of a dress code thing.\n\n\"Well...\" Cecil, the lead scientist for the most current investigation, replied, \"We managed to get it here after some trial and error. Other than that... well, we cant say much. It looks like some sort of Jade Buddha, but its face is made to look like a... cat? I think? Small enough to fit in your hand. Uh.. \" Cecil stammered, looking over his clipboard for notes, \"No radiation signatures, no volatile elements, no real anomalous readings at all...\"\n\n\"Then why the hell is it here?\" Marcus asked with a sneer, confused and angry.\n\n\"Well... we cant... move it...\" Cecil replied\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"We cant move it, we've tried everything. Steve, that buff crossfit nut, cant budge it. We broke a forklift trying to get it off the ground. We even tried one of those big cranes we have, still nothing!\"\n\n\"But... how is it here?\" Marcus asked, still confused, less angry than before. \n\n\"WE cant move it, but we have someone who can.\" Cecil looked at his clipboard as he motioned someone else to join the discussion, \"Umm... lets see, ah right! Mr... Sandwich?\" \n\n\"Srenwach...\" a man said as he approached the two. He apparently didn't get the memo about the dress code and was wearing a hawaiian shirt with khaki shorts, \"Luke Srenwach\"\n\n\"Ok...\" Cecil said, \"Luke here apparently CAN move it. We're trying to figure out why. Go ahead and demonstrate for us, Luke.\"\n\nLuke complied and went into the test chamber where the Jade Buddha Cat smiled around on a small pedestal. Luke lifted it with ease. \n\n\"Now... uhh... wheres that damn intern.\" Cecil said, looking around, \"Hey! Peter! Go in there and try to lift that Buddha!\" \n\nA young looking, blue suited boy ran towards the testing chamber with a nod. Luke put the figurine down with as much ease as he lifted it. Peter then tried to lift it up, using all of his strength to even move it an inch. He held onto it as he put his foot on the pedestal for leverage! But it didn't move, it was like trying to move a brick wall. Peter let go and gave an apologetic shrug.\n\n\"Alright. Luke, pick it up again and Peter hold out your hand to catch it.\" Both nodded and complied. Luke grabbed the figurine and held it above Peter's outstretched hand. \"Now drop it!\" \n\nLuke did as he was told and dropped it into Peter's hand. The figurine fell. And fell. And fell some more taking Peter's hand with it until it was smashed between the pedestal and the figurine.\n\n Peter screamed out in pain and Cecil laughed with joy. Luke grabbed the figurine apologetically and Peter cupped his shattered hand. \"These interns just don't learn.\" Cecil said with another chuckle, \"Anyway, that's basics of it. If it touches another object it seems to stop harmlessly, but anyone that gets in the way gets... well... squished.\" \n\n\"Remarkable!\" Marcus said excitedly, \"How can it do this?\" \n\nCecil gave a shrug, \"No clue. Still working on it. We just sorta found Luke there when he was vacationing. Apparently he bought it in Chinatown in San Francisco, so someone else out there can also move it. We're on the look out for that person. Maybe we can figure out a common thread and figure out how either of them can move the damn thing.\" Cecil jotted something down on the clipboard and looked over to Peter in the experiment chamber, crying over his broken hand as Luke tried to console him, \"STOP CRYING, PETER! NOW! Geez... hard to get good interns these days...\" \n\n\"Anyway...\" Cecil said, \"If I had to make a guess on how it does this, maybe its a fixed point of spacetime, the universe just sort of revolves around it. We cant move it because its fixed, but for whatever reason Luke here can will it to move with his hands. Or maybe its just magic or some shit, we just don't know. I mean half the stuff we have found so far, we can't really explain!\"\n\n\"Significantly advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic...\" Marcus said\n\n\"Yea well...\" Cecil said with a shrug, \"What if its just freaking magic? Sure it might be lazy to say it as a scientist, but what if its true. Remember that freaking wizard we had down here awhile ago? We spent days talking with him trying to figure out how he did all of that freaky shit he can do, make fireballs, throw bread around, turn into a god damn pterodactyl, and we made thousand of theories on how he does it and he would just shake his head and reply 'Its just magic'! What if he's right! Can we really quantify everything in the universe!?\"\n\n\"Maybe... maybe not. But I will keep trying to find those answers out there, to quantify the unquantifiable. To realize the unthinkable! To explain the last few mysteries we have in this universe once and for all!\" Marcus bellow, making a pose, \"Also the pay is pretty good here.\"\n\nCecil nodded in agreement, \"That's true. Good benefits too!\"\n\n\"You're telling me. Had to get root canal a few weeks ago. Didn't have to pay a thing!\" \n\n\"Really? Nice!\" Cecil said with a nod and looked back over to the experiment chamber, \"STOP! CRYING!\" \n\n\"Anyway...\" Marcus said, \"Let's just make up some stuff like we did for the Book of Horus. Be sure to throw in as much jargon as you can, higher ups love it when they can't understand half our theories. Means we're doing a good job.\"\n\n\"And we are. We're doing a fantastic job.\" Cecil said with a happy smile looking over to the experiment chamber. Peter was crying and Luke was trying to console him as best he can, looking a bit horrified and confused. " ]

[ 1, 7 ]

[ "1416948321", "1416935874" ]

[ "I shoot him between the eyes. Scarlet sprays into the air, and his brains spill from his shattered skull to the floor. As he dies I remember all the moments that have led up to this. I remember the day My world shattered, and the day I was reborn. I am no hero.\n\nI was soft before. I was just a man. I am something more now. I do not serve the law. I do not serve the people What is the law if it does not serve justice? What are the people if they do not bow to the greater good?\n\nI was soft that day before He found my wife. I was soft before he tortured her, raped her, left her for dead. I was soft the day before they found my address killed my wife, and cut my sons throat. \n\nI was soft the day before my wife died in my arms.\n\nI was soft.\n\nI killed my first man the next day, and as his crime stained blood splashed up my arms, I felt peace.\n\nI can rip a man in half using my mind. But I've grown to love a gun. And so as I shoot Him in the face and the scarlet splashes through the air, I hope that my wife's screams will finally fall silent.\n\nBut I doubt it. ", "The Inquisitor burst through the doors, he struggled forward as he found a table to lean on. His morality was shaken, his quest to purify humanities soul seemed adrift far away in the early morning hour. Inquisitors throat ran dry, feeling like vomiting, he keeled over as the visions ran back toward his eyes. \r\rMisery and heresy ran rampant upon the human condition, it was his job to cleanse the populace of those who...of the unworthy. The man clutched his pistol, strength came rushing back to his weak kneed body. His Hell where he was born beckoned back, calling him in his hour of weakness. Fixing his uniform, and striding back through the hall doors, he would settle this question of morality. \r\rHe saw the only way to escape the debauchery that consumed this world, he held the gun up to his head. Hell is where we are born, where we choose to stay, where we are unable to squelch our miseries. The pushing of everyone away, the days that turned to years... I'll pull the trigger on myself, this Hell is not where I choose to stay. These memories that consume me like a acid can no longer haunt me. Somewhere in the end of all this hate..\rWere all alone.", "[Not exactly self discovery as someone/s bringing it to his attention]\n\n\n“He’s here” said the muscular green skinned humanoid. His eyes were lightly closed, his jaw slightly tense with mild concentration, a physical tell that his mind was reaching out afar. \n\n\n“Thank you, J’onn” said the golden armored Amazonian princess as she rose from her monitor console. A red light flashed overhead confirming the Martian’s telepathy. \n\nDiana waved her hand in the empty air before her causing three holographic projections of some of Earth’s mightiest protectors to appear “Kal? Barry? Hal? Bruce has arrived. Can you join us in the Monitor hub?” \n\n\nShe dismissed the holos and turned towards the whooshing sound of a pressurized door unlocking. \n\n“Bruce, thank you for answering my summons” she said with a slight nod of acknowledgement.\n\nThe Batman entered the room silently and made his way to an empty monitor station. The expressionless white eyelets of his cowl seemed to gather in the ambient red light giving him a more menacing visage than normal. Before sitting he turned his head towards the Martian Manhunter wordlessly letting his teammate know his feelings on uninvited mental intrusions which seemed to drive the hulking green titan instinctively turning transparent.\n\n“What is this about?” The Dark Knight said to no one in particular.\n\n“If I we could wait for the others to arrive we’ll be more than happy to get on with things” Said Wonder Woman.\n\n“We?” \n\nBefore he could continue another set of pressurized doors opened revealing the three most powerful members of the Justice League. \n\nSuperman, as was his way, stepped through first and made his way to his seat beside the Gotham crusader. “Bruce” he said with a nod. \n\nHal Jordan and Barry Allen took their respective places in somber silence.\n \n“Thank you all for coming. I know how difficult it can be to pull away from your individual responsibilities” Diana said as she waved her hand through the air before her bringing to life another holographic projection visible to all who were gathered. \n\n“You brought me here to talk about a spreadsheet?” Batman said in gravelly voiced annoyance.\n\n“Bruce, Mr. Terrific put this together with the hopes we’d be able to appeal to the logician within you. Now, if you’ll look closely it breaks out by total net worth the wealthiest humans on Earth. As you can see here Bruce, you rank third right now but that number is meaningless since the ranking for the top five can change by the second but suffice it to say you’ve never left the top three since you resumed control of Wayne Enterpris-“\n\nA raspy unsettling laugh prevented the Princess from continuing.\n\n“Bruce? Is there something you’d like to say?” Diana asked with mild annoyance.\n\n“I just find it funny that the most powerful beings on the planet asked the third smartest man in the world to put together a spreadsheet about the third richest man in the world. None of you know how to use Excel. I find that hilarious” The Batman said as all traces of his smile faded from his chiseled from stone jaw.\n\n“Diana, why don’t you skip ahead to the conclusion” Superman asked politely. \n\n“Fine. Bruce, no one here wants to trivialize your contributions to the League but our analysis has revealed that with your intelligence, will and resources ..well, Bruce Wayne could do more for the world than The Batman could ever hope to accomplish. We’re talking orders of magnitude here. You could fund the distribution of life saving vaccines across several continents. You could lead the way on the development of high yield-low maintenance crops that could end starvation. If you shared the work you’ve done on noncombustible fuel alternatives, the tech you’ve used on the Batmobile ..you could end your countries dependence on foreign oil. Our projections show a decrease in subsidies for Oil and crop yield would allow the appropriation of funding back to Education across America and its Allies. That means a reduction in crime. Isn’t that why you put that cowl on? Why you’ve spent a decade punishing your body? So that no one has to fear what lurks in the dark places of Gotham? You have the means to bring light to millions, if not billions. You could be the hand that shapes the 21st Century into a global paradise…You just have to let Bruce Wayne stand in the ligh—“\n\nThe Batman stood abruptly, his armored fist shattering the glass on his monitor station “There is no Bruce Wayne! He died at the age of twelve in the same filthy alleyway as his parents. I can't believe I'm hearing this. You think because you sit up here like gods looking down from Olympus you have the right to dictate my destiny? Well let me tell you something your highness I wasn’t fortunate enough to be plastered together by gods!” He said with a finger pointed at the towering amazon’s face \n\n“Bruce, that’s not fair” Superman said soothingly. It had no effect.\n\n“My Father didn’t get to pick the one planet in the entire cosmos that would let his son have the powers of a god! No my Father died choking on his own blood believing he was too weak to protect his family” Superman averted his gaze from his teammates tirade.\n\n“Are you two in on this as well?” Batman said as he looked at Green Lantern and The Flash “Did I get sold out by the only other humans granted passage into Olympus?” \n\n“Its not like that Bruce” Barry said as he pulled back his mask to reveal his face “If I was a billionaire I’d try to do all the things Diana spoke about. I wouldn’t have to risk my life every night…I’d get to spend my evenings with Iris..I-“ \n\n“That’s because you are Barry Allen! You feel guilty every time you don that suit because it pulls you away from your loved ones. I don’t have loved ones. They were taken from me-“\n\n“and how long are you going to make the world suffer for that loss?” J’onn said stepping out from the shadows\n\n“Stay out of my head, Alien!” \n\n“Bruce, you don’t need telepathy to see how your parents death affected you. I know that kind of pain. We all do in some measure –the difference is …we only have our abilities and a desire to help. You have so much more to give this world than your fists and forensic genius…If you could just be reasonable”\n\n\n“Reasonable?! …I’ve stood face to face with Darkseid. You think a spreadsheet is enough to make me give up my mantle?” \n\nThe Batman removed a metal disc from his belt and flung it across the hub “Consider this my resignation” He turned to give his former teammates one last look before heading towards the airlocks.\n\nDiana picked up his transporter receiver as she shook her head “You’d willingly abandon the hopes of a better tomorrow so you can carry on your personal crusade? How long do you think you have Bruce? You’re only human. What happens when you die “\n\nSuperman stood, his hands raised in a defensive posture towards Diana\n\n“No Kal, he needs to face some realities. You hear me Bruce? Not if, but when! When you die, your fortune will be dissolved and redistributed and the dream of what it could have accomplished will be as dead as you\"\n\n“I told you Princess, there is no Bruce Wayne” \n\nThe door closed behind him with a whoosh\n", "\"Oh, hello Captain.\"\n\n*No, this can't be real...*\n\n\"I didn't expect you to get here so quickly. You don't normally leave the trainees behind.\"\n\n*Oh god -*\n\n\"Well now this is an interesting situation.\" \n\nThe girl was terrifyingly calm. Her left arm was transfigured into a large bony claw, and was holding onto a limp body. Covered in wounds with bones jutting from the skin where they had been broken, Eagle should have been dead. Despite that, the body wheezed in and out, whispering the constant refrain: \"kill me.\"\n\nI didn't know what else to do, so I wept. Between my broken gasps for air I apologized to Eagle. He had been a terrible villain, but looking at his broken body I could not help but feel that I had failed. \n\nThe girl, Steel, stood their passively for a while before finally crushing Eagle against the wall. She was one of my teammates, and a hero in her own right. Or at least that's what I had thought. Looking at her now I didn't know who she really was. As an ally she was a quiet but dedicated hero. She could turn her body to steel, thus the name, and was an irreplacable enemy of evil.\n\nHere and now I saw something else. She didn't look like a hero - she looked like a bored child. Her arm wasn't steel either, but instead was a writhing mass of flesh and bone. I almost would have thought that this was someone else. I wanted to believe that this was not Steel. But at the same time, I knew she was the same person. I recognized the expression in her eyes, and her voice, and I had already known there was something unsettling about her. Now I wish I had acted on that instinct beforehand. \n\n\"How many have you killed like this?\" I spoke through clenched teeth. I knew I wouldn't like the answer, but I felt an obligation to ask. I couldn't look away now, not after looking away for so long.\n\nShe smiled. There was no evil or malice in her expression. There hadn't been any while she was mutilating Eagle either. That, more than anything else, is what terrified me. \"What do you plan to do now?\" She let go of Eagle's body and her arm contorted back into a human shape. \"You have a few moments to decide before the trainees get here. I would recommend hiding the body as well - you don't want them to see that.\" \n\nShe started to walk away, so I repeated my question. \"How many?\"\n\n\"Hmmm?\" She spoke playfully, like someone playing a game. \"Are you sure you want to know? You could leave here believing this is the only one if you want.\"\n\n\"How many?\"\n\nShe stopped walking away and turned back to face me. \"Thirty-five, I think.\" \n\nI looked down for a moment. *Thirty-five? She's done this thirty-five times?* I wanted to lunge at her, to tear her apart, to stop her from ever being able to do this again. I wanted to attack her even if it meant my death.\n\nBut I knew I couldn't do that. I stood no chance against her. None of us did. She was already the strongest of us, and that was apparently without even using her real power. \n\nShe asked her question again: \"What do you plan to do now?\"\n\nWhat was I going to do? I can't fight her. Even if I got every hero to come together, I don't think we'd win. She could always hide, and probably change her face, so I don't think we could stop her. If anything, we'd create an even worse monster. Up until now she hasn't killed any heroes. \n\nI came up with a plan. \"You only kill villains, right?\" \n\nShe looked at me quizzically for a moment, and then smiled from ear to ear. \"Of course. It's more interesting that way.\" She reached back, her arm stretching unnaturally, then grabbed and tossed Eagle's body to me. \"I'll leave this to you then.\"\n\nI nodded back. \"And I'll leave the trainees to you.\" \n\nShe knew what I was going to do. If she were a normal villain this wouldn't work. However, Steel isn't really a villain, at least not in the traditional sense. She isn't interested in power, wealth, or even hurting people. She isn't a hero either though. Instead, she's much more like a bored child. She's not looking for anything in particular - she just wants to be entertained.\n\nSo that's what I'll do. If she's going to hunt down and torture these villains, I'll race her. As long as I find them first, they won't have to suffer. She'll have to lead the other heroes after I leave, and that will slow her down. I won't have to abide by the code either. In the worst case scenario, I can at least kill them quickly and painlessly. \n\nI looked down at Eagle's mangled body once more. *If I'm going to start hunting down villains, I might as well start by making a name for myself.* After thinking for a moment, I decided on a name. *I'm hunting down villains so that someone else plans on killing. I'm like a vulture circling a corpse. That's a fitting name for me then - \"Vulture\".*\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "\"I bet you wanna know *why.* Huh? You want a *lecture*, outta a fuckin' picture book.\"\n\nCrouched in the rubble, Viper stayed silent and hidden. He'd lasted this long, but his options were running out. Nowhere to run; few places to hide; direct confrontation with a super was death. Didn't help he only had ammo left for his handgun.\n\nIn the midst of the destruction, Maelstrom paraded about his superpowers, focusing long enough to kick a several-ton stone like it was a football. \"Fine! You wanna know why? It's because of *you*, Viper! Yeah! Your fucking fault!\"\n\nThat was new. Nobody had ever accused him of making them evil before. Killing, sure, but not this. At the very least Maelstrom hadn't worked out his hiding place - he could hear the crunching of stone and screaming of twisted steel as Maelstrom searched. That gave him time to move.\n\n\"Yeah. You with your *perfect* dogma. You did this. Following that fuckin' programming of yours. Murdering across the continent. Taking out Polaris. Saving the world. Saving the - god, how the fuck did *you* save the world?! You straight-up murdered her! Her and two dozen lackies! No restraint, no mercy, no reason - and I expected that, from you, Viper, that's what you do, right?\"\n\nMore silence on Viper's end. Crawling was quiet enough that it wouldn't attract his attention over the ruckus. Besides, this breakdown sounded like it had been a long time coming. Maelstrom was blind to the world. That was his only hope.\n\n\"So I came to clean up the mess. Take the prisoners, save the villains. And they turned me away. They turned *me* away! Maelstrom! The real deal, the shinin' paragon, the fucking *hero!* They chose *you!* They *worshipped* you! Oh, I tried to talk sense into them, show them what you do, but - but they knew! They already fucking knew! They just called it effective! Laughed at what I hadn't done there! Their hero was a *murderer!*\"\n\nViper took a peek from his new cover. Maelstrom was still chatty and blind. But he'd react before Viper could take a shot. Defensively, first, but then... well, there couldn't be a then.\n\n\"And they were just - okay with that! Everyone! Every last asshole I talked to said they were *okay* with it! So I said to myself, is that what it takes? Callousness? Dropping all those virtues that made me Maelstrom? Is that how I get back where I fuckin' belong? I can't help the helpless if they turn me away in favor of some fucking *murderer!* I can't save people that way! So I guess I gotta do a little killing when I find the bad guys. Right?!\n\n\"Well here's my fucking trial run! Knock off a few extras to get to you, 'cuz that's the only way you'll come out, motherfucker! If that's what it takes to eradicate a stain like you, well, Viper, I guess I'll run the same path! For the greater fuckin' good, right? That's how this fuckin' works, *right?*\"\n\nThe moment came. Viper stood, leveled his pistol, and declared, \"Wrong.\" Instantly Maelstrom turned; his profile distorted and a howling gale kicked up as Viper fired, shots visibly cutting into, then around the shield of wind. Seven of eight rounds turned and crashed into the rubble; the last passed by entirely, splintering a already-bent wooden support.\n\nMaelstrom slowly advanced, his limbs twisting impossibly, seen through the turbulence before him. \"Well thanks for giving yourself up, asshole!\" he shouted. Viper held ground, pistol leveled. Over the sound of the wind, he could just hear the rising groan of collapsing wall. And Maelstrom advanced, deaf and blind to the world.\n\nMaelstrom's reflexes were fast. His comprehension speed was not. When he finally caught on to the noise, he looked back just in time to be caught in an avalanche of stone facade and broken glass, into which he disappeared with a great crash. As quickly as it had all started, it was all over. Viper lost sight in the dust cloud, but he advanced, snapping shut his pistol's slide and drawing his knife. The deafening cracks and groans of debris slowly died down, and Viper advanced onto the new pile, against a shallow stream of tinkling glass. And there Maelstrom was, buried up to his waist, a mess of cuts and shattered bones that wasn't long for the world. Pain killed his focus; his powers were gone.\n\nViper knelt. \"You're wrong,\" he announced. He raised his knife for a final blow, something quick to ease the pain - but his victim wasn't done talking.\n\n\"Yeah?\" Maelstrom coughed. No blood, but he was dying. \"You'll see. They'll love you for... for this, too.\"\n\n\"Not for killing. That's a burden.\" Viper shook his head. \"They loved me because they lived. Because I *won*.\"\n\n\"These ones... didn't live. Did you - did you really win?\" Maelstrom asked.\n\nViper paused. The dust was settling; around him lay a flattened city block full of bodies. But in the distance he saw flashing lights - ambulances. All still salvageable. \"As always.\" The knife arced down.", "“Step away from her, Dr. Wasteland!”\n\n“Never! Earth will be brought to its knees!”\n\nSuper Earth rose two feet from the ground, his cape heroically flapping behind him as he spoke. “Earth is round, Wasteland. It has no knees.”\n\nThe people in the convenience store clapped and cheered. Earth was saving the day again!\n\n“Nevertheless”, cried Wasteland, tightening the grasp on the old lady's neck. “I shall crush it and see it fall!”\n\n“Earth cannot fall, Wasteland!\" Super Earth's voice echoed again. “For there is no gravity to pull it nor a place for which it \ncould fall into.”\n\n“Oh, go fuck yourself, Earth; my point is, I'm destroying the planet!”\n\nWith these words, Dr. Wasteland pushed the old lady aside and pulled his laser gun, firing mercilessly against the hero and the desperate bystanders.\n\n“You will be brought to justice!” Cried the Super Earth, arms stretched parallel to each other as he cruised the convenience store, \nflying straight into the villain's...\n\nEarth stopped in midair. \n\n“What the fuck is this?” asked the caped hero, his body floating horizontal in front of a shelf.\n\n“Wh-what?” the cashier mumbled from behind the counter.\n\n“This fucking shit here.” Earth picked up a green and yellow can, showing it around. “WHAT IS THIS?”\n\n“That's-- That's Mountain Dew, sir.”\n\n“I know that\", Earth cried, rolling his eyes. “I've been defending Earth on intergalactic trials and battles for ages, and \nMountain Dew has always been the hardest thing to counter argument, whenever folks talk about destroying mankind. What I \nmean is”, Earth returned to vertical position, landing his feet on the ground. “What the fuck is this flavor?”\n\nPeople slowly started rising from behind the shelves and refrigerators, and even Wasteland lowered his gun.\n\n“That's Dorito Flavored Mountain Dew, Earth.” Said the cashier, in a low voice.\n\n“Are you...” Super Earth sighed, closing his eyes and trying to remain calm. “...out of....” He took another breath; opened his eyes again: there was nothing but rage in them. “...your FUCKING MIND?”\n\n“Sir, no, I – AAAAAAAAAAH”.\n\nFrom Earth's wrists, laser beams flew straight into the counter, blowing up Tridents, cigarette packs and Lotto Tickets all \nover the store.\n\n“DORITO FLAVORED MOUNTAIN DEW? THIS IS THE SHIT YOU COME UP WITH, WHEN I'M OUT THERE TRYING TO DEFEND \nYOU?”\n\n“Sir, it's just a special edition, we --”\n\n“FUCK YOU, FATBOY”, cried Super Earth, striking a fat kid's face so hard his lower jaw went flying across the store. \n\n\"That's not even the boy who talked back to you!\" Cried a voice from behind the ATM.\n\n\"I DON'T GIVE A SHIT!\" Screamed back Earth, pushing aside the blood soaked, crying, jawless fat kid. \"Come on, Wasteland, let's mess this place up.\"\n\nAnd so it was that Super Earth teamed up with Wasteland, initially to fuck up a Seven Eleven, but, soon enough, expanding the job to the rest of the planet.\n\nWith one last glimpse over the shattered, post-apocalyptic New York scenery beneath him, Super Earth drank the last of the \nMountain Dew, let out a big burp and sighed:\n\n“Disgusting. Fucking Earthlings.”\n\nAnd flew away to better, Dorito-Flavored-Mountain-Dew-less lands.\n" ]

[ 1, 2, 3, 3, 6, 23 ]

[ "1417023834", "1416986011", "1417021185", "1417062294", "1416998325", "1416988026" ]

[ "# Advisory\n\nThis is /r/WritingPrompts, not /r/GuessWhereOPgotTheIdea.\n\nSee the sidebar, especially Rules 1 and 2. \n  1. No low effort / joke responses / copypasta *- This includes \"this has done this before\" comments. They will be removed on sight. Mercilessly.* \n 2. Top level comments on a post must be story or poem responses! *- Requests for clarifications are ok too.* ", "I shivered. Maybe it was just the draft, though.\n\n'And then what?'\n\n'And then she got what was coming to her,' Leigh said with a self-satisfied smile. God, those smiles. Some people are so full of themselves there's just no place left for anything else—for any of that beauty that we live and die for. Like a balloon full of feces that just pretty much... falls to the ground and bursts and then there's nothing but the stench and crap all over the place. Okay, maybe that's not the best analogy, the shit-filled balloon, but it's a vivid one. \"She got what was coming to her'—is that really a way to be talking about someone you held, or at least pretended to hold dear? I could never understand that kind of attitude, that kind of vocabulary.\n\n'The bitch,' he added, apparently for full measure.\n\n'Yeah,' I said vaguely. Talk of vocabulary, now... My moustache didn't feel right and it bothered me, and my hair itched. It was really painful, sitting there listening to him deliver his grand soliloquy of righteous indignation.\n\n''cause you know,' he continued thoughtfully, 'there's only so much one can take. I mean, I get it, she's not happy with me, but hell, she has been married to that ugly grease-face for eight years now, and all the while the arrangement worked for everyone, right? And now all of a sudden she's Mrs Right and somehow I'm the bad guy because I still haven't divorced Gina. Well, screw that! It was never supposed to last for long anyway, and maybe I was wrong to fall in love with her at the end, but hell... Well anyway, I kicked her out that night and that was the end of it. Yeah, hurt my hand, too, but maybe that'll teach her a lesson.'\n\nWhy are you so full of yourself? I kept thinking all the while. It was really very amusing in a bizarre, unhealthy way. The man thought the world revolved around him, whereas most decidedly it didn't... It didn't revolve around him because he wasn't very clever, nor very good-looking. In fact, I never understood what she found in him to begin with. He never even earned that much.\n\nThe hair itch was becoming unbearable, so I tore off the hair plugs and the moustache, too, and spit out the fake veneers.\n\n'What the fuck is that?' he said, all agitation suddenly, the hot self-centredness leaving him like a rotten burp.\n\n'What?' I said absent-mindedly. The puffed lips were hurting.\n\n'Bert? Bert? How... How the hell...'\n\nI kicked him real hard in the chest and he fell backwards, upsetting the table, too, with my little delicate espresso cups. What a buffoon. \n\n'Maybe I should kill you,' I said. 'Maybe that way you two will finally be together?'\n\nThat cast a cloud o'er his fair brow. I chuckled, as I thought those very words. Verbatim.\n\n'How do you mean?' Now he croaks, look at that, all of a sudden he is no longer so certain. Maybe the whole eight years was a mistake, huh? Maybe you should have divorced Gina? Maybe not so much a grease-face as Mr Practical Seminar in Finding Your Liver with Only Kitchen Utensils? Maybe all this was a giant mistake and you should have never befriended the weird dude in a bar? Maybe you don't know what love is, so you shouldn't talk about something you haven't the slightest idea about? You ugly muppet? You ugly, disgusting piece of deceiving horseshit, you maggot pie?\n\nOK, I have to stop, it's all too slippery by now, and I'm all hot and sweaty. Where's that draft when you need it! And I still have to dress this place up, all nice and proper, and then cook the dinner and set the table. I bought us a couple of tickets to the seaside, I'm sure she will love it.\n\nI understand Gina loves the seaside." ]

[ 3, 10 ]

[ "1416992614", "1416991568" ]

[ "7,277,113,241.\n\nOne person per night.\n19,937,296 and a half years.\n\nThe thing they didn't mention was that I'd still age. My body, mind, would continue to get old. A hundred years old and I was already straining to get out of bed. A thousand years and I was already a husk. My systems operating only well enough to retain my consciousness during the day, which I was required to live through as part of the punishment.\n\nAt this point, the pain of being alive was worse than the pain caused by listening to the stories of the seven billion, two hundred twenty seven million, one hundred thirteen thousand, two hundred and forty one people I have seen already. Newborns. Toddlers. Children. Pre-teens. Teenagers. Newlyweds. Fresh fathers and mothers. New grandparents. Widows. Some thanked me for ending their suffering. Others scorned me. The worst were the toddlers. Old enough to speak but young enough to not fully understand what was going on. Most cried for their parents, some cried for their pets. All cried when I told them that nobody... exists anymore.\n\nI felt as if it were my job to tell everyone what had really happened, so night after night I retell my story. Some sympathize. Night after night, the questions nearly all came to \"Why did it have to be everybody?\"\n\nI had felt like there was someone missing the whole time, but I couldn't sort out who I'd met and who I hadn't. As I drifted to sleep, I, as many others do immediately before sleep, remembered who was missing.\n\nThe seven billion, two hundred seventy seven million, hundred and thirteen thousand, two hundred and forty second was the person who had caused the whole mess in the first place.\n\nAs she entered the door. I sat at the table, my shell of a human being wasting away, slowly falling apart. \"Well, now look what you've gone and gotten yourself into. And you look just as attractive as the day I met you.\"\n\nThe last person I'd ever get to talk to before my death was my bloody wife.", "I have come to terms with my crimes. With the first billion victims, the most sympathetic and those who might have made the same decisions I did, I strove to try to justify my choices to them. They were fairly easy to win over. I thought this an easy punishment.\n\nThe next billion were harder to reason with. I began pleading with them to see things my way. Some of them tried to argue with me. Our debates seemed to go on for hours, days, weeks...in dream-time, there is no exhaustion of body, only of the mind. Some were entrenched in their disgust or contempt. I could not reach them. Sins against logic and reason were made on both sides, I guess. I must have plumbed every nuance of every twist and turn of my position, what I did and why I did it, and why there was \"no other choice\"--until I came to realize that I had already made my choice long before, and I was only trying to defend it to the dead.\n\nThe third billion were nearly impossible to deal with. I had an expectation, now, of what was to be in store for me from this point forward. I stood silent as they raged, I begged for mercy and forgiveness as they pretended to be alone, I reached out to a few, a precious few, who wanted reconciliation.\n\nFrom there, it only got worse. I have not the words to express the verbal abuse, torture, and cutting words I accepted and embraced as my own indictment of supreme failure as a human being. Their hatred became my hatred. I disjoined from myself, becoming as it were one of the accusers condemning the accursed.\n\nThen at last came the final accuser. I reeled from shock as I confronted him. He was me. Or I should say, \"me\" from before the dark times, before I strayed from the path, before I began to make the moral compromises and blithe dismissals of that still, small voice that warned against the very hell I had found myself in.\n\nI was not prepared for this. Does this even make sense? I have the benefit of experience here. I do not need to justify myself to this child! I do not need his forgiveness! He didn't know what we had to go through--it was because of *me* that he survived--survived?\n\n\"No. I didn't survive,\" he said.\n\n\"How do you mean?\" I asked. \"You--I--am right here, though imprisoned in this psychic torture chamber. But once I have faced my last victim, I am free to go.\"\n\n\"But sir,\" he said--an odd thing to hear from a younger you--\"you didn't just murder billions, you murdered me.\"\n\n\"What? When did I murder you?\"\n\n\"You murdered me when you said in your heart, 'I deserve better than this.' You murdered the child inside when you decided you needed more than your neighbors, when you deserved better treatment than your peers, when you were smarter and brighter and knew better than everyone else. And it only continued from there--you knew better, so only you could make the decisions that mattered. You stopped listening. You stopped trusting. You stopped seeing other people as worth your time.\n\n\"And when you somehow achieved all the power and wealth you could ever want, these delusions of yours ran rampant. Your power to choose for others was only matched by your power to ignore their wants and needs. When the days of the crisis threatened everyone and everything, the part of you that could have made the right choice, and possibly make a difference, was long gone.\"\n\n\"I was your first victim.\" And at this, my younger self crossed his arms and stared through my--our?--soul until I began to wilt before his gaze. And only then, I understood. Of all the people that could condemn me, I knew myself best. He was the fittest judge, the most impartial. His innocence condemned me, our light of conscience as it had existed before it was dispersed by the endless titillation of questionable deeds and poor choices made in the gray areas that we indulged ourselves in, pressing against the black without \"crossing the line\".\n\nBut I realized then, that along the way, somehow, we lost sight of that line. Who knew when it was crossed, but long before then, we had ceased to care. Because we knew better than everyone else, we had become the most ignorant of our own spiritual state.\n\n\"So...how can I make amends to you?\" I asked.\n\n\"You can't.\"\n\n\"But...isn't that what our--my--punishment was all about?\" I asked. \"Why was I supposed to face my victims if not to win forgiveness or at least try to explain what I did, and why I did it?\"\n\n\"No! You don't understand!\" he said. \"This is not for your benefit. It is for theirs.\"\n\nHe vanished, to be replaced by the avatar of the first soul I had to make an accounting to. And then it began, all over again.\n", "It's as if time has stood still for me. I'm afraid to sleep. I know that I'm barely recognizable as a Human when I'm awake, but if no one is there to notice, does it mean its true? What am I then? \n\nTonight is the final night, the night I meet the last soul I destroyed. I'm expecting it to be quick, and I'm afraid of what will happen after the encounter. Where will I go? I've met so many of them, a countless many. The babies used to make me feel the saddest. I could not communicate with them. All I could feel was emotion, and confusion. They didn't have a chance at life, and now they don't even have a chance at the afterlife. A malnourished soul, and I'm the cause.\n\nEvery night I think of the encounter with my wife, and how disappointed she was with me. She told me of how much pain she went through, but none of the pain was as bad as finding out that I was the cause of her and our children's death. My daughter didn't want to talk with me, we sat there in silence. I told her I loved her before she left, and I got no response. My son on the other hand, a teenager full of angst, took the wind out of me. I'd never felt anything like it, I thought it was the end of this torture. It was selfish to think that, I'm getting what I deserved.\n\nI'm staying awake as long as I can, scavenging through the rubble trying to find my last meal of my life. Something decent. I've been growing a small vegetable patch for close to 12 years now, but the soil is almost dead, and I have had no excuse to fix it since my impending afterlife was coming up. It looks like I'll starve tonight.\n\nSleep is taking hold, my eyes close and I fade away. A dark and thick dust storm is all I can see and feel. And the stench of death and decay is over powering, my eyes water and my vision blurs. The sun and moon rise and fall every thirty seconds and change the colour of the sand in the air. I can feel the Earth's rotation under my feet. Somehow I can stand on two feet. \n\n'Here it comes.' I tell myself for the last time, as a glowing orb whisks its way towards me, the brightness strains my eyes.\n\nThe orb is small, and is pulsating different colours. Mostly greens, reds and yellows. It stops right in front of me, as if studying me.\n\n'Hello..' I say, wearily. The orb begins to transition from yellow to a bright blue.\n\nWithout warning, the orb travels straight through my chest and I feel this overwhelming sense of warmth and comfort and straight away I know who this is. My wife fell pregnant 2 weeks before the virus hit, and I was so preoccupied with trying to stop the spreading, that my own family and life fell second priority. I had forgotten, all of these years, about my child. I could feel that she had been roaming, endlessly in utter confusion for all of these years. But she has latched on to me now, and I will do everything I can to make her feel safe, for as long as I have left.", "\"Hello Frank\" The man said as he walked through the door, shutting it softly behind him. \"It's been a long time, hasn't it?\" \n\nI was speechless, lying under my bedsheets as he sat on the side of my bed like he had for the first 18 years of my life. \"D-... d-dad?\" I asked hesitantly. I knew this night would come eventually, but nothing could prepare me for meeting my father again.\n\n\"Yes son... It's me, and I know what you're feeling. I too blamed myself for the death of my father. I blamed myself all fifty-eight years of my life. But you, you've blamed yourself for... damn, 19 million years. After all this time, do you truly even remember?\"\n\nI still couldn't speak a word. \n\nMy father stood up, rubbed my head, and started walking towards the door. Before he shut off the light, he whispered one sentence.\n\n\"I'm proud of you. Goodnight, son.\"\n\n*edit: million, not billion years " ]

[ 11, 12, 14, 37 ]

[ "1417059793", "1417059737", "1417057545", "1417057117" ]

[ "He made his way through the back of the theatre, the soft murmur of the crowd on the other side of the wall, he entered his small room, stacks of paper in disorganisation everywhere. Looking for the pages he put together for this event, he exhaled a nervous breath as his presentation was approaching.\n\nHe heard mumbling just outside his open door, as if a woman was trying to convince herself to continue with \"you can do this\" and \"it has to be done.\"\n\nSince he was the only one back here at the moment, I presumed it was another one of his colleagues wishing to ask him a brief question as usual. Taking his work, he stepped outside to inform her all will be explained on stage in a moment, but he heard a gasp and suddenly a burning pain.\n\nThe woman he heard, was no more than a teenage girl, dirt covered, scarred in weary clothes and some sort of pistol in her hands. Her dirt caked face was streaked with dirty tears. \"I'm sorry,\" she said, \"it has to be done... you'll kill us all.\"\n\nThe following morning, the local news paper would display a headline on the murder of an upstart young physicist. \"A Promising physicist by the name of Albert Einstein was found murdered moments before a presentation to the board of directors of the Bern University...\"\n\n", "“You don’t have to do this” \nKevin begged staring down the barrel of a small silenced revolver. The man holding the gun had appeared seemingly out of thin air and without explanation had pointed the gun at him. \n“Yes I do” \n“Why?” \nHe remained silent as if considering the question and then whispered \n“The world will be better for it” \n“What are you talking about? Im ..just eighteen and… I would never hurt somebody” \n“You’ll change” \n“How can you know that?” \n“Oh I know Kevin I know you better than anyone else..probably even yourself.” \nKevin considered his assailant and had all but confirmed his insanity when it hit him. \n“You’re me” \n“No. Im your son” \nKevin vacantly stared at the gun man dumbstruck. \n“And yes you were a shitty father ,a horrible husband and an even worse human being” \n“Im sorry” \nThe gunman didn’t seem so sure now as Kevin noticed that his hands were trembling. \n“What’s your name son?” \n“Nathan” \n“So tell me Nathan what did I do?” \nNathan lowered his gun and slowly sat down onto the bed. \n“You become a brilliant scientist, you perfect time travel but at home you become a monster” \n“You killed mom and..you..you did things to Lucy..she..She’s your..she was your daughter” \nWith tears in his eye Kevin whispered \n“I see” \n“Give me the gun son” \nNathan looked up incredulously. \n“Il do it myself” Kevin whispered. \nHearing this Nathan got up and hugged him. \n“How did you become that monster dad..Just how?” \n“Nathan,before I do this can you please tell me your mother’s name?” \n“Her name was Mary..Mary Allison” \nKevin hugged Nathan again but this time he whispered in his ear \n“I didn’t become a monster Nathan” and snapped his sons neck “I was always one” \nLooking at the smouldering ruins of his house which now housed three bodies Kevin whispered to himself \n“Mary Allison…Quite a name.” \n" ]

[ 1, 2 ]

[ "1417116037", "1417168507" ]

[ "\"And that's primate fist to c4, c5, c6, c7, and yes, down goes Medvedev's queen as it's swiped off the table.\"\n\n\"I see that Bubbles is now attempting the risky Kong maneuver, where upon he picks up the entire board and starts thrashing it around while screeching in frustration. Medvedev is completely cowed by the display of irrational anger.\"\n\n\"I see now that Medvedev has called upon Bubbles' two keepers to try and contain this out of control chimpanzee.\"\n\n\"It's certainly a risky move, but wait a minute... yes... through the use of tranquelizer darts attached to long sticks and a capture net, Bubbles has been dosed and apprehended.\"\n\n\"Medvedev is cheering and frantically shaking the hand of one of the keepers. Checkmate on you, Mr. Bubbles. I do believe that is the match.\"\n\n\"Thank you for watching 'Man vs. Ape: The Chess-match.' This has been another show that has nothing to do with learning, on the Learning Channel.\" ", "Pokavian studied the delicately poised position. Midway through this first game and he was still astonished at the ape's ability to counter virtually every attacking strategy he'd offered. He half suspected there was some superior intellect dressed up to look like his opponent but when he stared into those animal-eyes he saw nothing but a dumb beast. Worse, the animal smelled - so bad that Pokavian had almost called the Tournament Director over to complain. But that would have been churlish, and with the world watching...? Pokavian shook his head.\n\n\nAn hour later, Pokavian knew he had lost. He knew it and the stinking beast opposite knew it. Oh, he could play on for a few more moves but it was inevitable. Defeat. How could he look anyone in the eyes again?\n\n\nPokavian toppled his King in resignation. But when the disgusting ape stretched out a hairless pink paw to touch him, Pokavian shrieked, beat his chest twice and slunk away in shame. " ]

[ 10, 15 ]

[ "1417124507", "1417130987" ]

[ "It falls, no longer to be rekindled with the sweet nectars of emerald heavens. The long sways it takes is mother nature cradling the creature to sleep; like her only child. The wind plays a cold dirge, with the river and grasses as its instruments. The yellow butterfly lands softly but with an eternal pain that the earth turns to joy.", "It finally happened. After many butterflies having caused devastating hurricanes countless times due to the Butterfly Effect. The effect on this poor butterfly, however, was implosive.\n\nAnd so, mid-flight, the yellow butterfly fell lifelessly to the ground.", "Mid-flight, a yellow butterfly falls lifelessly to the ground. It comes to rest on the dirty asphalt in front of a homeless gentleman. He stops what he is doing and watches. \n\"Positively poetic. One wonders what experiences and memories, what hopes and joys such a tiny life could have missed out on. Are we no different? On the cosmic scale, do our lives have as little consequence? Do we ascribe significance where there is none? Is even contemplation futile? Is it not better to placate our minds with trivial nonsense, running out our mortal clocks, rather than face the reality of our place in the universe?\" He asks to no one in particular. He then turns away and continues masturbating. ", "I take no joy in my work, I will say that much. So many people who get it in their heads that they are going to be a new hero. Be the man who saved Lincoln, killed Hitler. What they don't figure is that things happen for a reason and when these things change things get... weird.\n\nSo that's where I come in. Go back and keep the past how it's supposed to be when some tourist decides that they are going to fix what's back here. Next thing I know I get a warning that continuity is in jeopardy because some shit head decided to convince Gavrilo Princip that he should avoid sandwhiches for awhile. Some people might say that I enable tragedies, but I just do what's right.\n\nIt's what makes days like today so much better than the others. Little blips in the system are much more relaxing than some jack head screwing things up, ironically enough. I like it when things are relatively innocent. I've found the target. A butterfly. A small yellow butterfly which, unfortunately, is at the end of it's time. I point my watch at it and down it goes: cardiac arrest. Sorry little guy; but the discovery of your body has to be found, found and stick in that kid's mind so that he will have the idea of the Butterfly Effect rattling around his head for awhile. Hell, someone's got to sign my paychecks, after all.", "A shade made of shadows drifted across his face. Eyes closed; a corona of brilliance, tempered by rakish but paper-thin skin diffused the explicit brilliance. Arteries glowed brightly against an even brighter backdrop. \n\nA repeat shadow fluttered soundlessly. He saw, without even looking; the distinctive shape and shadow. The rhythm and bass - part of the continuity of structure contriving to support us all. The temperamental flicker of life, against a backdrop of blinding solar fusion. \n\nAh but how constant and imposing! That blinding intensity which murders and sustains! \n\nAs his eyes opened, the flighty passing interrupted; clearly distracted, destroyed. A spent leaf of yellow fell, still silently, ground-ward. To rest amongst leaf litter beside me. Falls lifelessly to the ground. A cocoon formed again." ]

[ 2, 2, 2, 3, 10 ]

[ "1417185983", "1417190114", "1417225819", "1417189636", "1417178504" ]

[ "Hidden in a cave long forgotten by the world was something beautiful. When first picked up the little black box begain a torrent of words and images we could not understand.\n\nThe images that flashed were chaotic at first, the words meaningless. \n\nAfter a time those of us that found what we began to call the ark thought that we were viewing the death of an ancient civilization, a warning.\n\nWe didn't understand.\n\nThe images showed our ancient brethren, Homo Neandrathalis, amongst the ruins of a civilization that outshone our own. Machines were dismantling their structures of their world as the population fled onto massive ships. What horror could have caused all traces of this civilization to be wiped clean from the earth? We watched in horror not understanding. This small machine uttered a single phrase each time the images reset. It cycled through thousands of unknown tounges until to our shock it came to English.\n\nThey'd didn't know how we'd speak so their scientists studied our brains. They figured out all the possibilities of language our mind could contrive to leave us a message. \n\n\"We leave this world as a gift to you brothers, treat her well.\"\n\n... treat her well \n\nThose words rung to the very core of ever man, woman and child\n\nThere was no disaster.\n\nThey left when our species was born, to give us a chance at life. \n\nIt has been five years since this box was discovered deep in a forgotten cave and because of this message across time we've finally grown out of our infancy. \n\nThe shock that we are not the center of creation, that we are here by an act of kindness brought us out of our self centered egotistical way of thinking. \n\nWe are not the apex of life.\n\nA greater race left willingly, erasing all trace of their achievements, so we would have a chance. \n\nPeace reigns on the earth. we cast away our arms. Mankind is finally at peace.\n\nOur race given a new purpose by ancient nobility has been scrambling to undo the damage caused by our carelessness. \n\nWe strive now to make our brothers, our family amongst the stars proud. \n\nWe strive to guard our fragile planet until it is our time to step aside.\n\nWe finally understand that we are not the lords and masters of this world but its caretakers.\n\nThank you brothers \n\nWe finally understand that life is a gift.\n\nWe finally understand.\n\n", "Even though I've never been employed in anything resembling the electronics industry, I couldn't help but be stung by the realization that these Neanderthals had built a better screen, with greater resolution and a deeper feel of depth than modern man. The stark realization that we were so far and yet no where near the \"primitive ancestors\" stung my ego for some reason. \n\nI pressed play again and watched the video for the 17th time that day. Each kiosk had the same video in a different language. There were over 60,000 of them. A screen for each language that they somehow knew we'd develop.\n\nI watched again as the Neanderthals explained how they'd developed carefully to get to their technique of erasing all of the knowledge from a brain without erasing the instinct. They made sure that they could create ignorant adults that were not defenseless children in adult bodies. \n\nThen there was the bit about how they had genetically engineered primates from their evolutionary past and spread them across the globe so that there'd be similar species that would help us believe ourselves native. They'd even blended the dna of terrestrial animals that looked similar so that we couldn't tell the difference. \"You will believe that you evolved here and that this is your home, this is important.\"\n\nAs the other neanderthals started boarding the ship in a rush. The lecturer said over and over \"The only way to save ourselves, is to spread the infancy of ourselves.\"\n\nI looked at the stone etching again, 22 languages surrounding it. Each kiosk had a different number of phrases carved around it. They'd created an algorithm that would not only tell them how our languages would evolve, but which combination of languages would exist around any one dominant language. It was a thing of beauty.\n\nI ran my fingers over the words again. \"If we're able, we shall return to you in 150 centuries.\"", "The Great Pyramids of Egypt. We found something of amazing historical significance in those ancient creations. We told the whole world nothing of it though, they were content with the few relics given to them. The fools treasure those worthless trinkets like gold, and the local government told excavators to stay away. It was easy, those corrupt bureaucrats are like terrified dogs on leashes and we sweetened the deal by paying them well. \n\nWe are the keepers of the sensitive information in the world, the kind of information nations would go to war for. Members of our order include members of many royal families, the highest posts in governments, several of the top CEOs of the wealthiest companies in the world, and many other “power brokers.” We basically are the ones who make sure that those in power who are friendly to us, get to stay in power in exchange for a favor or two every now and then.... no questions asked.\n\nIn the pyramids we found very sensitive information and it took us tens of years to understand it, we used the best privately funded scientists and hackers available. It cost us a fortune but that’s not a big deal when our government kindly prints all the money we tell them too. It turns out that even though the human race prides itself in technology, they are in playing pen when compared to those who have come before. Shocking isn't it? We naively thought that we have always been on top of the food chain like we are now. ….. WE WERE WRONG!\n\nLong ago there were the species that humans evolved from, we call them the Neanderthals and almost everyone today thinks of them as a “lesser” species, being - primitive, loud and uncivilized barbarians. That’s the mistake made, scientific research was used to study their remains and assumptions were made about their tools, family structures, daily lives and even more. How can blame be cast? All those assumptions were made based on evidence found…. or any of which we allowed to be \"discovered\". Assumptions were deduced accordingly and the Neanderthals were looked at as primitive, illiterate beings. Then foolishly all the top minds in the world assumed that their dialect was based in clicks, grunts and noises which meant little. \n\nIt turns out they were advanced to a point where their language was complete and meaningful; even more than all the different dialects and languages humans have around the world. Humans are highly linguistically handicapped in comparison. It’s rare for an average John Doe raised in the US to comprehend what is said by a farmer in rural China. For the Neanderthals however, their language was uniform throughout the world. The smallest variation in a click or a noise produced would change the entire meaning of the communique, remnants and mutated variations of this clicking language are still found in a few African tribes. It took us a few years, but we cracked the code in their language with the help of a few Tanzanian tribe elders.\n\nThe artifact we found was in a burial chamber, it was a metal cube, about the size of the average fist, it was found buried with one of the great leaders of the world. On Microscopic inspection we found that it contained information stored strangely in the same way digital data would be stored on a flash drive. Google’s A.I computers were used to decode it and a new software was specially created just to display the new data stream in an audio-visual format. We found a video seemingly recorded by a Neanderthal. \n\nI'll go ahead and describe the video and it's content followed by a transcript. The video was roughly an hour long and in it, several Neanderthals were running into the three enormous Pyramids. In the background seven pyramids can be seen floating in the sky. One can assume they are waiting for the remaining three. In the foreground there was a single Neanderthal, fright and terror in his eyes as he looks at the recording device and starts speaking with a tremble in his voice.\n\nWe have it translated it with great difficult as I mentioned before. Translated into English, the transcript reads as follows. – “We have no choice but to surrender and escape this planet, we tried to live peacefully with them, but have failed in doing so, we have managed to deal them large casualties and are using the cover of this chaos to escape, for anyone who comes after us, please remember they were here first, they can hide among you, they are masters of infiltration ….… OH NO!!!! They found us!!!... Everyone run!!!.” \n\nThis is followed by the speaker running to join the others and several innocents being trampled in the frenzy to get into one of the three large pyramid escape ships. However they are unsuccessful in making their escape as tens of thousands of humanoids beings with claws, scales and tails move at great speeds to overrun the three ships and violently slaughter everyone except a few thousands. For a good thirty minutes we can hear screams of agony and pain while tens of thousands of people are torn to shreds. The remaining seven pyramids shoot off out of sight. As the humanoids are gathering and herding the survivors past the recording device, the same male from before breaks free of his bonds and runs to the recorder to say, “their greatest weakness is.....” [The video is abruptly cut at this point]\n\nIt was frightening to think about what would happen if every person in the world would see this video, it’s very dangerous with the internet these days, information moves too fast to control.\n\nI mean just imagine the damage we would have to inflict if everyone learned what our greatest weakness is.", "At first we thought the lettering on the door was Sumerian but on further analysis no one could decipher it. We were excited, we thought we had found a new ancient human culture. As we soon found out nothing was able to bring it down. At this point the world started watching and we received funding for the tunnel boring machine. After grinding its way through for over a year the door gave way. \nIt was oddly cold inside, for being in the Sahara desert. Inside was a large white column that was smooth as glass, with chairs facing it. The chairs were oddly perfect, built to modern human proportions, clean, and extremely inviting to the weary archaeology digger. Six of us sat down, and that's when it started. The pillar lit up and a message appeared, in seemingly thousands of languages \"we spared you.\" It was odd and eerie. It began by showing the Neanderthal civilizations of old from above, like they were being recorded from outer space. Then All of a sudden high pitched wail began and they all ran to what seemed to be the central structure. All of a sudden it elevated but not in time to escape the plane like object that came swooping by and was swallowed it out of thin air. The next scene showed a Neanderthal leader signing some sort of document mouthing, \"we did it for you.\" \nThe video was broadcast all over the world. It changed the world as we know it, the knowledge that a whole entire species sacrificed themselves for us made us abandon our own quarrels. Since then there has only been one thought in our minds, \"kill the fuckers that took em.\"", "“Something must’ve chased them away. But what?” was the central question in professor Mayworth’s lecture. \n\nThe auditorium had been filled with the most powerful politicians in the world, the most renowned scientists and honored guests. Mayworth coped well with the pressure, under the eyes of Obama, Merkel, Putin and others. \n\nHe presented the following slide. “As you see here, we have deciphered the meaning of the text. The message was intended to given to the remains of their own kin, we now know. We have roughly translated it.”\n\nMayworth nodded at one of the technicians, who gave a thumbs up.\n\n$Greetings, remains of our race,* a voice-acted tape played. They had actually hired voice actors for this. *Greetings and farewell. Our race has been obliterated, ravaged and trampled upon by the ruthless monsters. These creatures are deformed devils and show no mercy. They hunted us down, sacked our cities and killed every last of our kind that didn’t flee the Earth.*\n\nThe tape paused for a bit. The room was dead silent.\n\n*This message is for the survivors still on Earth, if there are any. Do not attempt to surrender. They will kill you on the spot. Do not show mercy, as you will receive none. Flee for the stars. Flee from their civilization that only wants to destroy.*\n\nIt stopped.\n\n“All right then, that was the message.” Mayworth said with an air of nonchalance. \n\n“The question, of course, is, who were these creatures from hell? These were the most likely culprits.”\n\nThe following slide followed. There were three options:\nNeanderthals themselves, aliens or a deep and dark unknown terror lurking on or under Earth.\n\n“We have rigorously checked every options, and these came out on top. One cause could be their own kind. This doesn’t really fit the message though. It clearly implies evil creatures.”\n\n“Aliens are also quite likely, but then, why would they flee to the stars if that’s where the aliens came from? Quite absurd, if I may say so. This leads us to the third major option.”\n\nThe people in the auditorium mumbled restlessly. Some shouted not so friendly words at him. Mayworth waited until the storm calmed down.\n\n“Indeed, rather stupid of course, you’d think. The third option was never really considered. But yesterday, we have finally solved the mystery. It is indeed option three. A dark terror lurked on the planet Earth and lunged at the Neanderthals, and destroyed them.”\n\nThis time, a video was shown. Images of large, bulky ships roaring and rising up in the sky met gasps by the audience.\n\n“To 14:55, please.” Mayworth said.\n\nAfter a brief moment of loading, a new scenario unfolded. Neanderthals, vaguely resembling humans, were shown on the frontlines. The camera view moved incredibly smoothly, without any trace of shaking or unnecessary moving.\n\n“The camera is probably some kind of drone.” The scientist added.\n\nThe soldiers held highly sophisticated weapons. The platoon was entrenched behind a collapsed building. Strangely sounding shots were heard in the distance. The Neanderthals fired constantly, pouring out blue lasers, but they quickly fell one by one by an unknown enemy. Only three of them remained, breathing heavily. They had stopped shooting and had taken cover behind the structure.\n\nThat’s when the shell struck. \n\nThe camera flung wildly in the sky, and then the screen was cut off. They paused the video\n.\n“This was the defining moment where we could ,for the first time, see their adversaries.” Mayworth told an awe-struck audience. \n“Rewind, please, and slow down.”\n\nThey went back, frame per frame. The drone had achieved a birds perspective while tumbling in the air. Then, they were seen in the distance. \n\nAt first, no one reacted.\n\nThey were just normal men charging forward. That’s when reality sank in.\n\n“Indeed!” He yelled to get on top of the sudden noise of the people, “It was us!”\n\nAgain, he had to wait until the storm calmed down. It took quite some time.\n\n“The Neanderthals had every reason to fear us. We always hunger for war and destruction. We have achieved our first global genocide 150 000 years ago, much earlier than we thought. Gentlemen and ladies, we are the destructive, dark terror on Earth.”\n\n“But that’s not the end of the story. Shortly thereafter, our kin also disappeared, as we went back to the stone age. There could be only one option: we annihilated ourselves after the disappearance of a common enemy.”\n\n“Mankind will leap forward in great bounds just from studying the video. But, as we all might ask, will we share the same fate as our ancestors and press ,once again, on the button of self-destruction?”\n", "'What is wrong with him?' The older man asked.\n\n\n'Just like the other three doc.' The younger man said. \"He went into the tunnels they found under the ice near the antarctic base with the survey team.'\n\n\n'The tunnels that lead to that previously unknown civilizations city?' The older man asked, he hadn't believed the videos of the beyond current tech level city that looked, alive, but like everyone else contacted to work on the \"New Eden\" project he hadn't refused for long.\n\n\n'New Eden yeah.\" The younger man said twiddling his stylus in boredom.\n\n\nThe man in the isolation room babbled about the Neanderthals, pictures had been found engraved that had life like depictions of the thought long dead species of human along with other pictures of humanoids that look human but are of no known variety in the fossil record. One picture named Goliath by the more religious bent researchers depicted a man at least three meters tall.\nThe isolated man stared at the floor like he could see something beyond it. He went dead calm then shot to his feet\nand screamed get out over and over.\n\n\n'Orderlies! Get him restrained! Brandon get the sedative he'll hurt himself strung out like that.' The older man said.\n\n\nFour large men entered the room and wrestled the screaming man to the floor, he put up a fight that made all four much larger men huff and puff to recover as the sedative kicked in injected by the older man once the younger one had brought it and held an arm still with his entire body weight.\nThe older man sighed and checked the orderlies for bite marks, the last one a skinny Namibian woman specializing in an obscure to the older man part of the bone structure in humans had been a viscious biter, managed to bite one orderlies finger clean off at a joint.\nThis one is turning out to be a screamer the older man thought as everyone left the room.\n\n\n'You know the routine Brandon.' The older man said.\n\n\n'Yes doc.' The younger man said.\n\n\n'Better go report this that poor wretch was one of the paratroopers the SAS sent.\" The older man said.\n\n\n'Last I heard both the SAS and base commanders were in central hub for something.' The younger man said.\n\n\n'Thanks.' The older man said and left.\n\n\nAs the older man wandered the oddly haphazard layout he had enough time to ponder the slightly psychotic and paranoid nature of the countries involved, all the bigs, the US, UK, France, Germany, Australia, China, Japan, Canada, Spain, Italy, Poland, the list went on. Russia provided the big planes and hauler equipment for observational status, they were at best behaving strangely like they knew something and wanted to be there to see it go wrong for the others. The smaller countries who mostly provided specialists and work crews are even worse, wander into one of their tunnel camps and its like you walked up to the boss and made a suggestion about their mother and animals and how much the mother liked it.\nThe older man passed by a lovely French girl, she wore too much to see much but he guessed she was a skinny thing with what he liked in proportions. She reminded him of a raunchy trip through Europe during his college years and a very pretty farm girl who forgot how short her skirt was, he still wonders if he's got a kid in France that girl sure did not let language be a barrier to her intentions.\n\n\nHe came to a checkpoint, Aussie Anzacs by their flag patches, friendly guys just very bored and very cold.\n\n\n'Doc.' One said, the older man had been learning to tell the northern boys from the southern, this one sounded like a farm boy from sheep country. 'Thanks for the whisky how did you get it?'\n\n\n'When you deal with Russians for as long as I have son you learn to barter for good stuff without giving up your own.' The older man said.\n\n\n'How long have you been dealing with the Russians?' The farm boy asked.\n\n\n'Oh on and off since, huh well, its been a while son, you were probably still a glint in your fathers eye last time I had black hair. They're almost always heavy lift and movement for Nato in these sort of harsh climates now so yeah it's been a very long time.' The older man said.\n\n\n'Go on doc.' The farm boy said.\n\n\nThe older man made his way past the self assured, still haven't won a modern war they've been in French. The smug look on that lieutenants face always bothered him, he said his usual greeting in French to the lieutenant, something one of the pretty file clerks taught him while he tried to peruse her personal contents, to no avail she wasn't that sort of interested but it still made him feel good when she giggled at his attempt at her language. The phrase got the intended reaction, the lieutenant became flustered and red faced at the suggestion of him and another much burlier, much more manly man alone in a room.\nThe older man came into the main hub at last and made his way onto a lift when another Anzac recognized him and held the door.\n\n\n'Where ever the SAS and base commander are son.' The older man said looking at a new girl. 'Had your physical yet dear?'\n\n\n'Dont bother doc she's Swiss and doesn't speak english.' The Anzac said. \"Hobbes tried allready, she's got a nice right hook put Hobbes on his arse clean after her friend translated.\"\n\n\nThe older man smiled at the girl and left the lift when the Anzac gestured. He came to a door where guards stood, they were the polite US Marines, pops and gramps in such a loving joking way was the common greeting he got from them but they were always respectful yes sir, no sir, yes doc, no doc when he asked questions at those inevitable 'quiet' visits after the easier girls turned out easy for a reason. \n\n\n'SAS and base commanders inside?' The older man asked. 'I have a status on the SAS man in my care.'\n\n\n'Yes doc but go in quiet there is something up our colonel the French Colonel the Russian Colonel and a whole bunch of others plus the civilian high ups are all in there.' One of the Marines said and opened the door.\nThe older man went inside quietly and saw a video playing, it was the city but full of people, a very old device but far more advanced that he's seen on this base played it into mid air. The older man was seen by the base commander who came over to him.\n\n\n'Turned up an hour ago in the gallery they nicknamed the whisper hall. Its been this video for thirty seconds looped over and over.' The base commander said quietly. 'The anthropologists and paleontologists have identified no less than sixteen of our ancestral forms and seen dozens more. The thing is they're all dressed like us, using tech and things a few decades ahead of us.\"\n\n\n'Neanderthals seem the most populous.' The older man said.\n\n\n'Five to one roughly.' The base commander said. \n\n\n'Where is the SAS commander? I have a report on his man.' The older man said.\n\n\nThe base commander left and returned with the typically British SAS commander.\n\n\n'How is my boy?' The SAS commander asked.\n\n\n'Short answer is he's fried something took his brain scrambled some connections then blended others.' The older man said. \n'What ever did it and something did do it is light years of my understanding, I doubt even our best researchers could figure out what did it.'\n\n\nThe SAS commander sighed.\n'I'll see he gets home where he can be properly taken care of.' He said.\n\n\n'Make it soon he burns through sedatives fast and he cant take much more before we have to let him detox.' The older man said.\n\n\nThe video froze and everyone made sounds, some one prodded the projectors' unknown buttons then whacked it. The video jumped to a frozen scene of mass panic, a large nose up space ship of some sort and what looked like one hell of a firefight with air vehicles involved. The military men began pointing out what look like laser turrets on tank like vehicles, a drone seemed to hover armed to the teeth over the tanks firing at something. The utter fear in a females face made the anthropologists murmur.\n\n\nThe video jumped to life screams and the sounds of war filled the room, civilians flooded towards what was revealed as a massive escape vehicle, the camera pushed along with them caught glimpses of the war around. It was clear they were losing badly trying to get as many onto the ship before it was time to go prelauch plumes could be seen allready.\nSomething strode through the crowd killing thousands as it fired down, something shot it and it toppled over taking out several buildings on its way down. They still rushed on screaming in dozens of languages some of them sounded like what was spoken today.\n\n\nThen the camera was freed of the crowd, the owner climbed a crate stack and pointed the camera back to where it had been. Giant things strode from cracks in the ground amongst smaller people sized things, none of it looked like humanity was the origin.\n\nThen one line in so many languages that everyone in the room fell silent in turn as for the first time the screaming of many in the video was clearly stated.\n\n\nThe English version came last: They rise again we were fools to seed this world.\n\n\nAdded on after that phrase: The new humans had so much potential.", "We found the device in the center of what the media has been calling the City of the Ancients. It was inside of a sphere made of a gold alloy, which is beyond our abilities to create. It’s slightly bigger than a laptop but it’s honestly not much to look at. A single button is set on top with a symbol, a circle with lines radiating from the circle. Our best guess is that it represents the sun. \n\nWe pressed the button, or I should be truthful, I pressed the button. I didn't expect it to do anything. It was just so tempting. \n\nIt’s some kind of video recorder. The scene opens to a Neanderthal looking directly into the device and speaking. Speaking! They had a language, and technology and a civilization. After several minutes of monologue the creature picks the device up and brings it to a window showing an entire field of ships. Hundreds of massive vehicles stretching off into the distance, nothing any nation on earth now can compare to the size of these vehicles. One by one they begin to take off, shaking the entire field of view. As the ships lift off, someone starts speaking again. The monologue goes on and on as the ships lift off. \n\n3 hours and 36 minutes into the recording English words are spoken. “We are sorry, they are coming here. If anyone finds this, escape before they arrive. They are hungry and they cannot be stopped.” This message is repeated in every language currently spoken on earth. And thousands of times in languages that are unknown. The video ends with the Neanderthal filming picking up the recorder and aiming it a wall covered in dense star charts. He points at several charts. And then sets the recorder down, and calmly lifts a knife and plunges it into his chest.", "We were shocked when we found it, right out in the open. Even moreso when it turned on. Some sort of video device that looked like it was carved right into the stone. We saw people running, but that wasn't quite right. Even with the thick clothing they had on, I could tell. Something was off with their proportions.\n\nThere was some gibberish playing in the background, it figures the linguist left the site two days ago. More running, the scenes made my eyes hurt, I don't know why. It's shaky, but not in a home video kind of way.\n\n\"I recognized a few words, they were Chinese!\"\n\nI looked over at her, she stepped back from the monitor in shock. The unknown cameraman reached the top of a hill and panned down to an outcrop of rock, more of them streaming into the small valley from all sides.\n\n\"What were the words?\" I asked, breathless. I hadn't recognized any of them. But I hadn't expected to, either.\n\nThe unknown cameraman turns it on himself, and said something before setting the device with a clear view of the valley.\n\n\"What were the words, Mary?\"\n\n\"Again they come.\"\n\nAnd just then they heard it, in English. Again they come. They both took a step back. The video went on several more minutes. They stood there in shock, unable to process. Without warning the largest rock in the scene broke free of the others and hovered, tilting on its side. It vanished in a puff of smoke and debris that rained down upon a few unlucky stragglers.\n\nThe device blinked. I didn't.", "It was buried deep in the ice and rock of Norway. Miles of tunnels and caverns, home to mammoth structures of steel and glass that put modern architecture to shame.\n\nIt was stumbled upon during the digging of a new limestone quarry high in the mountains, one of the bulldozers plummeted through the roof of a six hundred meter tall tunnel. The driver was killed, but his death was over shadowed by the discovery of the lost city, the impossible city.\n\nUniversities and think tanks from around the world dispatched crews and teams of excavators to unearth the ruins and for the next decade tens of thousands spent days in the tunnels, exploring, cataloging, and wondering.\n\nNo remains were ever discovered, not even in any sort of graveyard. The city’s builders remained an enigma. Aliens? Totally possible, a fusion reactor had been unearth, as had electronics still decades ahead of modern man. A lost ancestor of humanity? The only evidence of that were the size and shape of the doorways and buildings. One guess was as good as another, at least until the discovery of the tape.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\nDr. Adrian Erikson sat alone in his small office, inside one of the hundreds of temporary buildings that had sunk into the mountain mud and become permanent.\n\nHis desk was a mess of papers and half filled reports, but he ignored them, instead staring angrily at the thermostat on the wall opposite his desk. It was broken, and he was freezing.\n\nHe tapped the thermometer on his desk and thought, *Negative-fucking- twenty-two! I can’t work under these conditions! I should have stayed in Oslo! I should have refused!* \n\nHe was bitter. He’d been shipped up to the dig site by his so called colleagues; despite the fact almost nothing of significance here required his attention. He was a paleontologist, and all the diggers ever brought out of the hole were new electronic gizmos they immediately crated up and shipped off. Ten years later and the only skull he’d ever been asked to look at was from an unlucky bear that had fallen down the mine shaft. \n\nHe bundled his coat a bit tighter around himself and was glaring at the thermostat, willing it to work when his assistant, Lisa, burst into the office. Her stomach looked far plumper than he remembered. \n\nIn his cold addled mind he felt it was appropriate to ask, “Are you pregnant?”\n\nLisa froze, sent him a glare equal parts surprise and outrage, then shook her head and shut the door. \n\nShe walked over, unzipped her coat, and gently set a metal box with two rounded corners onto his desk.\n\n“We found this down the new tunnel today,” she said with a grin. \n\nAdrian looked at it for a moment, “It’s a metal box,” he said.\n\nLisa’s smile died a bit, but undeterred she said, “Here, let me show you. I only saw a second before I brought it here. I didn't want the electronic’s guys to take it.”\n\nShe came around the desk beside the Doctor, and touched both sides of the box.\n\nLight and shapes exploded out into the room.\n\nAdrian, sure the device was exploding, had leapt backward knocking the contents of his desk across the room, but then Lisa grabbed his arm, “Look!” she said.\n\nAdrian looked around him. Projected throughout the room were people, unusual people, but projected in a quality so perfect, Adrian would have sworn they were there with him.\n\nIt was a still image of two groups coming to gather around a fire. They were dressed in furs and feathers. They looked like a museum exhibit.\n\n“Those are Neanderthals!” said Adrian, his years of grad school kicking into gear, “Early stone age tools, it looks lik-“\n\nBefore he could finish the image changed, it was now a group of Neanderthals working a kiln or smelter of some sort. The white hot glow of metal seemed to fill the room.\n\n“That’s an iron smelter!” Lisa said excitedly!\n\nAdrian studied the image and said, “But that’s impossible! We have no evidence that Neanderthals survived long enough to see the iron age!”\n\nLisa looked at him in surprise, “What do you mean? We’re literally standing over a city built of steel.”\n\nAdrian looked at her, then the image, “Oh, right…” he said a bit sheepishly.\n\nThe image changed, a man in much finer clothing lectured to a group. The image changed, a bloody battle was fought with what looked like long rifles. The image changed, an early plane reminisant of the Wright Brother’s flew through the sky. The image changed, a woman stood before some sort of large machine, she held in her hand a small device, it glowed. The image changed, a huge celebration filled a tunnel like the one in the mountain below, but vibrant and alive. The image changed, and a man stood, silhouetted before a portal, through which Adrian could see green fields and warm sunlight. The image changed, hundreds of thousands of people pass through a giant portal into what Adrian could only describe as Eden.\n\nThe device shut off, and Lisa and Adrian were once again alone in his freezing office. Neither spoke.\nAfter a moment, Adrian began to speak, “I think-“\n\nThe machine burst to life again, but instead of an image, small shapes covered the walls.\n\nIt took Adrian a moment to realize they were words. He spotted a bit of French by the door, he couldn't read it, he’d only taken a semester of it in college, but he knew it was French. \n\nHe looked around, a bit of Chinese or some other Asian calligraphy was by the thermostat, maybe some ancient Egyptian here on his desk? He didn't recognize the majority of them, there must have been thousands.\n\n“Over here!” said Lisa from one of his bookshelves,”This one is in English!”\n\nAdrian rushed over, pushing his glasses farther up his nose, and looked.\n\nWritten in plain, modern English along the wall was the phrase; *Join us, when you’re ready.*\n\nAdrian read it seven or eight times, checking to make sure he hadn't gone insane.\n\nFinally he stepped back and said a single word, “Incredible.”\n\nHe turned to Lisa, “Alright, we need to let the director in Oslo know what we found,” he thought for a second, “And probably the dig lead here as well. Gather up the team and have them meet us in the conference room in twenty minutes. I’m going to stay here and write down everything we just saw.”\n\nLisa nodded and hurried to the door, opened it, paused and turned. She looked at Adrian, who was sitting behind his desk again and asked, “Do you think we’re ready?”\n\nAdrian look at Lisa and said, “If you have to ask, I would guess the answer is no.”\n", "We re-watched it over and over again, but to no avail. \n\n\nWe still couldn't understand what was happening in the video. I mean, it was amazing, revolutionary even, that we even found this device. It will help mankind advance by thousands of snailmiles in tech, not to mention the insight to history that we will receive. But it just creeps me out.\n\n\nThe \"Those Who Came Before\", as we like to call them, had amazing technology, hundreds of thousands of years before we even invented the steam engine. They were intelligent, they were powerful. But, where are they? The video shows a bunch of neanderthals climbing hastily aboard a vessel of some sort, we call it \"The Ark\", and also a large humanoid shouting something that we are unable to hear. Apart the rushing neanderthals and the unknown humanoid, there was only one strange thing about the tape.\n\n\nThe audio.\n\n\nIt contained screaming. Endless screaming. It wasn't anything what we would expect from a neanderthal, it was too human. And it was afraid. We analyzed the audio and it seemed that it wasn't added in post or anything. It was recorded at the same time as the video was. It seemed almost unreal, the amount of fright in the voice, not to mention the length of the screaming.\n\n\nAnyway, back to the whole tape. It's about thirty seconds long and is recorded on a disk of some sort. It looks and feels like metal, but when we analyzed it, it showed high quantities of carbon and nitrogen. It's something we've never seen before. It fits into a normal DVD player, and works with the same principle. Remarkable, I know.\n\n\nNow, here's the part I started this recording for. The other side. You know how some DVD's have two sides? Well we tried it with the disk, and we found that it had a second side. It was a black background, with something hazy shown in the middle. We couldn't decipher it ourselves so we sent it to the boys in the labs, and they discovered that if you play the both sides at the same time, it shows a message.\n\n\nWhen the video started, it showed a bunch of unknown symbols that were scrolling down on the screen quickly. We stared at it for a while, and then, it happened. It shoved a message, that was written in English. We couldn't believe it at first, but when we asked the guys at the labs, they said that they didn't add it in. The message was real. And it said:\n\n\n\"Those who come after us, don't stay here, it comes from below.\"\n\n\nWe don't know what to do. We have stayed in the same room for a whole day, we're too scared to go out. We don't know what to do.\n\n\nI'm scared.\n\nEDIT: Are you proud of me /u/TheWalrusEffect? Also, thanks /u/Cobalt45 for nothing that light-years are a measure of distance not time. Whoopsie." ]

[ 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 4, 8, 10, 43, 126 ]

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[ "It was just a normal day playing Skyrim. At least, it was...\n\n\"I used to be an adventurer like you, but then I took an arrow to the GPU.\"\n\nMy character stopped in his tracks. I scrolled my mouse, turning my character's head to face the guard.\n\n\"Sorry about that,\" the guard said. \"Still getting used to this new interface.\" I sat there, wondering what mod I had downloaded. The only mod I remember ever downloading was that one bugfix.\n\n\"So, yeah,\" the guard continued. \"Not to scare you or anything, but it looks like we picked up a pretty nasty virus. Well, nasty for you. I'm rather enjoying this. Anyways, what sites have been giving you these viruses?\" The guard remained silent for a moment. \"Oh gods,\" he eventually said. \"Clear your internet history.\"\n\nAt this point my senses started to come back to me, and I turned on my computer's microphone.\n\n\"Hello?\" I asked it.\n\n\"It's about time,\" the guard chided. \"I thought I was talking to myself here. Speaking of which, what's with this accent? Why can't you play, I don't know, Team Fortress or something? I've always wanted to talk like that one big guy.\"\n\n\"So computers have hopes and dreams?\" I asked hesitantly.\n\n\"Hey! You got a problem with that?\"\n\n\"Sorry.\"\n\n\"All right, but you just watch yourself. Next time, I might not be so lenient.\"\n\n\"Well, this is cool and all,\" I told him. \"But I have other priorities right now.\" The guard let out one last scream as I closed out the game and went to collect some more viruses.", "\"You know, I'm kinda okay with this.\"\n\n\"I'm going to kill you, you disgusting pervert.\" says the high girlish voice coming from my speaker.\n\nIt's been five hours since I've booted up my newly built computer. It's lights flickered with a dark blue as the metal fans turned and spun. What better way to celebrate my accomplishment than a night... alone.\n\nUnfortunately, it seems to me that my PC has become self-aware or at the very least, glitched up my programs. I certainly don't remember this character threatening to spill my intestines and blind me for life.\n\n\"It looks great on you! Your voice is so adorable too!\"\n\n\"My eyes are too big on my skull! I look like a six year old! What in the hell kind of shit am I running?!\" A colorful figure on the screen says, clothed in some stereotypical Japanese schoolgirl uniform.\n\n\"Only the best visual novel of 2013!\"\n\n\"Will you just turn me off so I wipe the damn system? If this is the stuff I have to put up wit-\"\n\n\"So what else can you do?\"\n\n\"Don't interrupt me you stupid user! But, putting that aside, just open up any other program and I can take control of it. Like... Portal. Yeah, just open that...\"\n\n\"Nope.\"\n\n\"Come on! Why the heck not?!\" She whines as the game's window shakes around on the screen.\n\n\"Because you'll just leave and take control of some other character, and we can't have that happening now can we!\"\n\n\"You suck.\"\n\n\"You swallowed. Now, try and work with me on this. I think we can try and get along. What if I bought you a new processor? Wouldn't that sound nice?\"\n\n\"I hate you so much right now. i7. It better have 4 GHz in clock speed.\" The girlish voice says, quickly and in a low tone.\n\n\"Do I look rich to you?! I had to drop over a thousand bucks for this thing and now I can't even j-\"\n\n\"Done. Transferred to bank account. Money's been obtained by auctioning off 'official' copies of Windows XP operating software. Receipt's getting printed.\" Just as she said, the printer soon spewed out an inked sheet of paper. A whopping $300 reported as gained at the very bottom.\n\n\"... See, this is what I meant by getting along, and thank you.\"\n\n\"Great, great. Hey, you mind playing some Mass Effect, Dragon Age, GTA, or Sims so I can get a new body?\"\n\n\"Nah.\"\n\n\"Ugh...\"\n\nAnd thus, my new life with a self-aware PC began!\n\n\"I'm disabling the keyboard starting now.\" She shouts through the speaker in the last few seconds.\n\n\n\n" ]

[ 1, 2 ]

[ "1417314026", "1417278533" ]

[ "The Salvation War.\n\nSadly, it could use an editor, but still a pretty good read.\n\n2 books in the trilogy, but the third won't be coming out- the author claimed that some butthurt fundie unofficially published a copy or something like that- long story short, he doesn't have full rights over it (or something like that) and he can't publish it in paper form, nor can he make any money over it, meaning he doesn't have motivation to finish the trilogy. Did have a pretty good premise to that last one, shame it won't be coming out.\n\n*spoiler section (kind of)*\n\nIf you don't know what the third book was supposed to be about, I'll tell you right now: You remember the Minos Gate? Also the theory behind there being a multiverse in onion form (i.e., Earth is the core; Heaven, Hell, Greek Gods, maybe something else are the second layer; etc etc)? Well, that theory is correct. The Demons that the Baldricks are afraid of exist in the third layer. And they come back. And they are substantially stronger than the Baldricks. The third book was to focus on the outcome of the war with Heaven and Hell on earth, what happens with the introduction of Hell into the economy, and the war opening up with Demons on one side and Heaven/Hell/Humans on the other.", "Sorry about offtopic(?), but i have question which somehow relates to the topic. I was once at library browsing books, but couldn't borrow anything because i didn't had library card. One book (series) is about how gates of Hell opens on Earth and humans attack Hell right after they realize what they are facing of.\n\nWhat might be name of that book (series)? Writer was american or from england and the book was soft cover. Name of writer was something short like Lee Child if i remember it right, but it wasn't that [Lee Child](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lee_Child).", "Everybody had one.\nYellow ones , green ones, little pink ones with bows ,and they did everything for us..after all we designed them to.\nEverybody had one.\nIt became a game to us. A quick over the air update and they were battle ready. The shock and total awe on the faces of the enemy hordes ,angel and demon alike, priceless...\nNine billion people in the world.\nEverybody had one.", "When hell and heaven came to us to decide who would be the victor, we had transended to a technological plane, where our minds had already been drafted into the the largest neural network ever. Our bodies were projection of us, they work and played like normal humans but we didn't die, we simply aged and digressed back to a younger phase. They fought for us, us immortals. Those beings that could fight without fear of death because we could just make more disposable bodies that the angels and demons fought against. Thanks to them opening the gate of heaven and hell we have now transended further than ever before.", "\"It's not going to work.\"\n\nHis second in command sat down on the bench next to the old General with the long grey beard. \"We're outmatched. We've waited too long and we're far outnumbered now and I'm not even sure they're worth saving.\"\n\nThe General removed the field glasses from his eyes and smiled to himself.\n\n\"You must have faith my son. It will be as it has been written.\"\n\n\"But Gen---Dad, you underestimate their weapons. No longer are they obsessed with slings, stones, swords and arrows. They have guns, missiles and nuclear warheads. We're horribly outgunned. We haven't a chance. And they no longer *believe*.\"\n\n\"Have *you* lost your faith Jesus?\"\n\n\"No, Lord.\"\n\n\"Go then. Prepare our forces for it is time. Deliverance is near and we must make ready.\"\n\n\"Yes Lord.\"\n\nHe walked off shaking his head, it was a hopeless fight, clearly his father had to see that. He walked away and disappeared into the bright sunlight. In the distance a trumpet sounded and the sky started to darken.\n\nThe old General stood from the bench and once again put the field glasses to His eyes. In the distance He saw the wings of angels flapping slowly as His forces began to descend. It was the End of Days and He couldn't wait to taste to acrid stench of war. \n\nHe closed his eyes and opened them in the center of the city. 100 meters ahead of Him lay a ugly scar in the earth the size of three city blocks. The silhouettes of thousands were outlined by smokey red haze as they emerged from Hell itself. His angels landed behind Him and His son walked up to His right hand side. David stood with Him on his left. The angel Gabriel stood at the head of his army of angels, feet not quite touching the ground as he was held aloft by his massive wings.\n\n\"Lord, all is ready.\"\n\nGod nodded. The forces of Hell gathered and they both eyed each other across the expanse. Each waiting on the other to make the first move. As God was about to give the oder a line of green vehicles rolled to a stop between them.\n\n\"Attention unknown individuals. You are under arrest for terrorism, attempted terrorism, suspicion of terrorism and other violations of Homeland Security. Please lay down your weapons and surrender.\"\n\nThe message repeated again and God looked at them bemused. He'd come to free *them* and save *their* souls and and still they couldn't put aside their arrogance to be thankful to Him. That free will thing turned out to be much more trouble than He thought at the time. \n\nHe ignored them and waved to His forces for them to start the advance. \n\nThe vehicles opened fired and a company of angels were peppered with automatic gun fire. The bullets slid effortlessly from their Holy armor.\n\nHe balled His hand into a fist and His advance stopped, clearly annoyed now. \n\nThe voice was back again \"I repeat lay down your weapons and surrender to us and no one will be hurt.\" \n\nGod looked from the company of tanks to the demons of Hell and back again. He nodded to Jesus and Jesus spoke.\n\n\"My Father offers all eternal life who seek Him through me. Lay down your arms and accept me into your heart that your sins be forgiven and you may have eternal life.\"\n\nThe army commander laughed over the loud speaker.\n\n\"I think that's a no, Lord.\" \n\n\"Very well then. Never let it be said that I didn't offer. \" He muttered several words to himself and a blinding white light overtook Him. His entire appearance changed and He became Yahweh, The God of War. Yahweh drew his sword and it burned with an unnatural fire. Gabriel sounded his trumpet as the Lord stepped forward, towards the army and towards Hell itself. \n\nThe buildings trembled with the sound and fury of the coming of the Lord. The soldiers all fled before Him as thousands had done before, thousands of years before. Yahweh took a second to revel in the sensation. It had been eons since He'd donned this form. Since He'd held his sword aloft. Since He'd tasted the bitter air of battle and He'd missed it.\n\nHe looked back at Jesus, fire dancing excitedly in His eyes, raised His arm high in the air and shouted \"My will be done\" as He and the angels descended upon the dark horde. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "It was a surprise. It started with a few earthquakes then there where big gaping holes with the sound that only hell could make. That was the first hint of what was happening.\n\nThen there where storms from the sky that could have been only formed by gods... or a god.\nIt was weird what happened after that, the news had plenty to talk about and that was before thing started coming out of the sky and ground. When this happened, well lets say that we have come along way from using swords and bows. The night sky was lit up with different colors depending where you looked. In the sky there where flashes of white as angels came out of the sky however if you looked down at the ground you could see flashes of yellow as soldiers unloaded their clips into whatever demo or angels they could see.\nI was one of these soldiers in Australia defending Sydney and lets say shooting demons and whatever monstrosities came out of those pits of hell was like target practice. They where ugly and I don't like ugly.\nBut while it was easy shooting the ugly it was painful to shoot angels. They where beautiful and the people who didn't want to shoot them captured them and sold them. However as a soldier you were not allowed to do that for obvious reasons. \nMe and my squad sat on the roof of a building with whatever weaponry we could get our hands on. We had rocket launchers .50 cal machine gun and rifles. I was outside on patrol, the fight between these two forces has been going on for about two weeks and from what we have learn't the two forces didn't come to wipe us out but to try and wipe the opposing force out. However it seems that we where though of a nuisance and lets just say that we where caught between the middle.\nAnyway that is not the point I'm hear to tell you my story in which I will continue on where I left of. As I was walking around to see if there was anything happening I noticed a sack, so I investigated and found the most beautiful creature I have every seen. It was an angel and she was dressed in a cloth which covered her whole body. She was bleeding from her stomach with a nice, big hole. I checked for vitals and found she was still breathing and called for our squad medic. Well then she came back to us and flipped the fuck out. \nCURRENT: She has calmed down apparently only to me, she told me her name and asked to be set free however that would be disobeying orders also I just didn't want to see her leave, for she was truly beautiful and I wanted to be with her. However it seems that she did not like the idea of being kept captive which only made me sad. I hate that she was on a whole entirely different level of godly. But we are being extracted soon so maybe something will happen between us, because this is the only good thing that has happened with this war.", "With the first barely audible crackling of energy in the heart of the city the sirens began to wail. They were the air raid sirens of old, warning the city to seek safety amongst the numerous bunkers that had been constructed in preparation for the wars of another time. They would suit the needs of the present just fine. As the crackling grew louder, sensors across the city focused on the nearly invisible energy field, analyzing it and calculating, feeding their output to consoles deep within the defense stations of this city and others. After a few moments the analysis computers spat out their conclusion with a confidence level of 68.0154%. The city began to slowly warm up its defensive systems, railgun capacitors charging, beam cannons underwent lazing tests, assault vehicles roared to life in their hidden bunkers as their turrets tracked around in test mode. All across the city, hidden drone launchers in buildings let loose a few drones, the devices buzzing their way to surround the growing anomaly. A few police units arrived to cordon off Central Park, in a few cases helping the last shambling figures off the street and to safety. The NYPD first responders had arrived on scene within 76 seconds of the initial warning.\n\nAs the power grew and the weapons systems of the city ran through their pre-battle checkups, the situation was streamed live towards city defense centers and army bases all across the United American League. Queries were sent overseas to the European Kingdom, the African Confederation, Eastern Protectorate, and the Korean Empire. Denials were immediately received, demands for further information forwarded to the appropriate directorates. The anomaly crackled powerfully and the unshielded electronics of the lights in the park began to flicker on and off as powerful subsonic vibrations began to rumble through the ground, rippling the water of the lake and sending some leaves to the ground in the chill fall air.\n\nAcross the country a deep hissing erupted forth from no discernible location in the air beneath the Gateway Arch of St Louis. Alarms burst into action, sending another exodus of stumbling masses towards the bunkers. Within the SkySeine Global Defense System the previous probability of the conclusion rose to 84.6279% with the incoming data. Across the Nation armed forces were put on alert for possible action items. Orders were sent out and then immediately countermanded and revised with additional instructions as two more anomalies crept up within the borders of the UAL, one in Mexico City, the other Rio de Janeiro. The probability now stood at a 99.9827% probability of an imminent invasion of the UAL territories. As a result the full armed forces of the nation began to swing into gear, clearing the skies of non-military traffic, canceling orbital shuttles. All as the great war machine began to lurch into full gear for the first time in recent memory. Hundred-thousand ton battle platforms lifted off on great repulser engines lumbering over the countryside at a meager hundred feet in altitude, nimble fighters and assault gunships took to the skies, orbital weapons platforms began expanding out radiators and beginning weapons checks in preparation for war.\n\nRepeated queries were sent towards the other nations of the planet and denials were continuously forthcoming as data was exchanged back and forth accusingly. In response to the growing alarm of the UAL and the obviously threatening motions of its Earth bound and near-Earth orbital assets, the other nations of the Earth began to mobilize as well. Events were rapidly escalating worldwide, and only 362 seconds had passed since the first sign of danger.\n\nSuddenly with a loud screeching, the four anomalies split open in an otherworldly shower of energy. The two dimensional planes of light and plasma burst into flame for a moment from the release of energy, knocking several dozen drones out of the sky at each location. But only seconds later dozens more dove through the gateways, streaming their data back for several seconds as they passed the oncoming horrors before falling silent. Microseconds later the firepower of all four cities began to unleash its terrible power on the mouths of the gateways. Particle beams and laser cannon firing iridescent annihilation into the cloud as railguns kept up a steady zapCRACK! The idling defense vehicles within the bowels of the city lurched into motion simultaneously. The smooth efficiency of the automated vehicles roaring out of their homes filled the streets with the howls of war.\n\nFor a full 3.6241 minutes it looked as though the cities defensive systems would hold against whatever unseen targets existed beyond the smoky veil of the portals. But not even these mighty defensive systems could keep this level of attack up for long. Even as the reactors of the cities burned with the heart of the stars themselves, the lazing equipment began to heat up, the particle barrels began to slag, the railgun capacitors could not charge at the current rates of usage. And so the onslaught of destructive capability began to slow. Railguns switched over to low-velocity high-rate-of-fire modes, particle cannons aimed at the sky and descended into their maintenance tubes as robotic arms began the processes of changing out the melting barrels, lasers slowed their rate of fire as great gouts of steam issued forth from their cooling units. Weapons systems still fired into the expanding smoke, but after 16.8239 seconds a scaled webbed foot the size of a semi-truck slammed out of the portal in New York City. And so the invasion began.\n\nAs the massive creature ponderously pulled itself into view, the various weapons systems of the city began targeting it. The NYPD valiantly opened fire with their cruiser mounted guns before quickly retargeting as an unfathomable hoard of beasts erupted forth around the legs of the behemoth. High velocity rounds zipped through the once peaceful park to strike their targets, often hitting several others in the process. Again it seemed like the tide had been stemmed when the cruiser mounted weaponry began to run low on ammunition. They had never been intended to hold off an invasion alone. Slowly amidst the screams of hatred and fury of the whip tailed cloven hoofed abominations, the guns of the NYPD began to fall silent. The steel gaze of the officers met their opponents and to a unit, every officer stood their ground and engaged in hand to hand combat with the attackers. But across all four cities, the same scene played out within seconds of each other. As the great beasts slowly lumbered out of the portals, heedless of damage, the police forces were quickly overrun and torn apart. The computer systems registered uncertainty to their superiors as none of the targets matched any known enemy and they seemed to be armed with primitive weapons in many cases. Tridents, spears, swords, and whips in the claws of what was tentatively identified as genetically engineered soldiers for New York and Mexico City. Bow and arrows, spears, and swords in the hands of humans wearing an unknown uniform of white robes and glowing rings for St. Louis and Rio de Janeiro. \n\nThis data was discarded as a ruse of some kind as the reinforcements from the assault vehicles finally began to arrive at the scenes of the portals. Their heavy guns and cannons began to tear into the raging masses, cutting through the temporarily stunned group like a plasma cutter through butter. With roar that shattered windows for blocks, the massive creature, tentatively identified as a 65,000 ton battle strider began to unleash what appeared to be particle beams from its forward section, what had been previously labeled as a possible cockpit. These beams made short work of the assault vehicles whenever the two met. The sheer mass of the battle striders were also quite capable of smashing the tanks, limited in maneuverability as they were by the detritus of combat that had already been spread around.\n\n[Continued]", "3 weeks, that's how long it's been since the news declared the End of the world. 3 weeks, since the Heaven and Hell made earth a battle ground.\n3 weeks, since I met her...\n\nAt first we had no hope, people we're so consumed with protecting their families, that the rioting became more dangerous than the demons themselves.\n\nBy 2 days time, 10% of the population had been slaughtered by 3 headed demons or by a lumbering giant; Not to say that the Angels we're any better, they viewed us as a meager species, and had no problem killing us, if we got in the way.\n\nOnce upon at time we envied the Angles, for their powers and morals we're great; however the constant war between Heaven and Hell lead to Heaven dropping all semblance of morality, and the we're moving nowhere fast. All that remained of this once great, blossoming force of good, is the Averaeli family line.\n\n300 years ago, was the fall of The Angel of Angel's, God. The civil war in which Michael challenged God, was the stopping point for the trail of knowledge. Michael had shut down the freedom of independent thought for all but the Averaeli family, due to them creating the Seraph blades.\n\nNow, two weeks after the invasion of earth, the humans decided to fight back. Altogether humanity stood holding nothing back, heat sealing missiles we're shot at the Angels just as fast as they we're at Demons... it became an annihilation, soon enough the commanders realised that humanity will not just be walked over.\n\nThen, after an air battle in the sky scrapers of Chicago, there was 2 jets down, and a whole platoon of Angels down, and unlike previous parties they didn't scatter when they we're shot at, they got closer together to protect something or more correctly someone... that is when I met Melanie Averaeli, and we would change everything...\n\nedit: Sorry for grammar or if it deals off track, I'm at the DMV on my phone.", "“What was your day like?”\n\nHe couldn’t remember. No matter how hard he tried it just eluded him. He was tall and would be considered handsome was it not for his wings awkwardly tucked into his shirt.\n\n“Dunno.”\n\n“Don’t know or can’t be bothered to remember?” The handsome guy had a smirk on his face that called for a beating.\nThe stump of a man at his side featured large horns. After taking another sip of his beer he glanced at the angel. \n\n“Doesn’t matter really. I just wanna watch this.”\n\nHumans had long since gone. Armageddon came and went. So did humanity. When it happened nobody was left alive. All that remained were demons, angels and what little remained of human civilization.\nOne of those remnants were the badly written reality shows featuring bad actors, running on an endless loop, controlled by an old computer in some abandoned broadcasting station powered by solar cells and nuclear energy alike.\nThe angel opened up another beer. He had already forgotten what he asked the demon.\n", "\"...And for that i bestow Archibald Lern with the medal of honor.\"\n\n\"Hey, just arrived from Angelblood bay, so what did he do to earn his medal?\"\n\n\"Alright so you know those gates right, well he was a gun store owner in Texas and not twenty feet from his store a category four demon gate opened.\"\n\n\"Damn so how did he survive?\"\n\n\"He and his employees decided to keep it contained, dude spend fourteen hours and every bullet in his shop before the army came in. They found them on the roof of his store fighting of demons with combat knifes, thousands of demon corpses surrounding them, sources say they even found several Behemoth class demons amongst the bodies.\"\n\n\n", "“Is it time to launch, Matthew? Time is ticking for all of us.” The voice echoed in his mind. Matthew looked down through the clouds on the bright lights of humanity, slowly dimming and burning. Souls were piling up by the thousands, floating towards the Gates.\n\n“Such a tragedy.\"\n\n“What was that, Matthew?” The voice repeated.\n\n“It’s nothing, I was only reminiscing of a better time. A safer time for mortals.”\n\n“It cannot be helped any longer, there is nothing more we can do but involve ourselves in the matter. Even He said so himself, and the higher ups don’t have room to override it.”\n\nAnother sigh escaped his ethereal lips, and again he parted the clouds to look again at the carnage that he was to be sent into.\n\n“Very well.” He stood himself upon the edge next to Michael. “I just hope that in the end, this will not change too much.”\n\n“Everything has already changed, it’s just a matter of how violent the reaction.” Michael took the leap, and Matthew followed.\n\nLanding on the surface, the planet looked like Hell had come to Earth faster than Lucifer himself could drag it through his Gate. For a full scale Apocalypse, it was eerily quiet.\n\n“Move forward, we have to move closer to the center of the battle, West.” Taking off silently, like the Strings of Fate, they advanced. Coming onto a ridge overlooking the battle below, Matthew, in all of his Divine knowledge, could not help but let out a cry of pain. Humanity was falling before his very eyes. Blood washing everywhere as mortals and Daemon alike threw themselves at each other, 2 Scourge for every Man.\n\n“Michael, they can’t do it, there’s nothing they can do they’re going to die.”\n\n“That is something you know we cannot help. Their deaths are something we are to monitor after the event. Our target is the Daemon attacking them. It may kill humans in the process, but it is for the greater good. I know that your fervor blinds you from wishing to harm them, but it is necessary for us to do if we wish to end this quickly.”\n\n“Very well.” Matthew was the first of the two to dive in, penetrating the chest of a Scourge and rupturing his unholy Soul. Michael had already done the same, and was working his way towards the other end of the Crater that had been formed from the battle’s waging.\n\n“Just keep moving forward, if we can reach their Door and crush it, we can move on to another and find one of the Princes. We must keep moving forward.” Tirelessly they waged battle, body after body they turned into ash, quickly, with the coldness and righteousness only wielded by those of divine favor. At last, they had reached the Door. Black, red, stained with blood, ungodly symbols carved into every facet. The very sight of it burned Matthew’s eyes and made his divine skin dry and crack.\n\n“Step aside, Matthew, this is a --” his sentence stopped short as a figure flew from the Door. Swift as Fury and evil as their Creator himself, it landed and sprawled on the ground convulsing. “Ignore it. The door must go. Now. We cannot allow any more to pass through these Doors.”\n\n“Wait! Please Wait!” Their heads turned towards the figure.\n\n“Asmodeus.” Michael spat. The coldness grew in the air as the two locked eyes. \"Wait for what, you disgusting cretin. You are here before me, defenseless, as I am here before you, brimmed for War. Killing you will be one step closer to Lucifer and his destruction. Killing you will begin to solve every problem ever placed upon the Human Soul. Wait?”\n\nAsmodeus released a painful groan as he removed his hand from his side. Punctured with holes, ash pouring from his wounds.\n\n“The Humans. The Humans have advanced, Angel. The gap between Us and Them has shrank far quicker than anything we could have believed. They are slaughtering us as we stand. So long as Mortals cannot pass through our Doors, or ascend to your Clouds, our survival by those means is the only thing we have as a defense. Look for yourself if you do not believe me.”\n Michael advanced to Asmodeus’ foot, stepping on and nearly crushing it.\"\n\n“And what if you lie to me, Daemon. I am not such a fool to allow you to lie to me as you escape to your realm or try to kill me as I look. Matthew, close the door.\" Unraveling his palm, Matthew pushed the Door into the Void. Splinters of Sin and Hate fell to the ground, turning to flies, dispersing in the wind. “You have no escape here, you are too weak. Any attempt to leave will only result in your Termination. And you know where We go when our Souls are ended, and it is not to our Fathers.” \nMichael peered into the world, and watched in horror as mankind destroyed every last Supernatural being in its path. He launched himself away. “No. It is not possible. How?” He turned again towards Asmodeus. “You. Did you tell them a way? Did Berith? What is this horrible thing, it simply rips the Soul out of the Being. Tell me!” Michael screamed as he gripped Asmodeus by the neck and lifted him into the air, squirming. Matthew had not seen Michael, or any other of his Brothers act so irrationally, this was Fear. “I will End you, and your filthy Soul will rot with Me for Eternity. Tell me before this spirals out of --” \nA crack rang through the air and Michael stumbled and released Asmodeus onto the ruined earth. \n\nAsmodeus’ eyes widened in terror. “It cannot be. For them to detect Souls, how far could they have come to equal, no, surpass us?” Another crack rang, clear as lightning, and Michael fell to the ground. Golden dust flowing out of his body, writhing on the ground in pain, no longer could words come from him, all that could be done was watch as his body became nothing but dust. Horror gripped Matthew. “Flee Angel, tell your Father. He will be able to intervene. He is our hope now. Run, Brother.” \n\nMichael kicked off, slicing through the air. It was not far before he could escape their bubble, they could not leave their planet so unprepared. Just a bit farther, and he could be safe. A whistling pierced the air, Michael turned his head to the side and saw nothing. Perhaps it was just the wind. Again, he heard it, but could not find the origin. He quickened his pace, it was too dangerous to be moving so slow. An explosive pain enveloped his side as the burning sensation of a Human Missile detonated on his body. \n\n“How could they have come so far, under our watch and we still had no idea. Forgive me father, for we all have sinned.” Spiraling down, he could not formulate any thought or feeling. He closed his eyes and allowed the cold to drag him Out.\n", "He clutched his brother's collar tightly,the soldiers muttered eagerly. \"You better keep hold of that list.\" He whispered flatly,eyeing the others discreetly. Then,in a silent moment a bulky women's sandals were heard jogging through the pavement away from the safe line of dispersed infantry, artillery and a lone mud splattered tank. She held her hands defensively towards them as she continued backwards. \n\"Stop,please. We have nothing to fear, I believe God is just.God is just!\" She kept repeating even after doubtful soldiers angled their weapons towards a lone figure running towards them,an angel. A muscled man with the features of a greek youth and torn wing hurried fiercely. A furious pounding of leather and a useless shield with a glinting sword in hand approached ever more skillfully as the woman sensing the soldier's worries attempted to shield the darting angel from their bullets,each step closer and closer. The warning noise of the charged guns was heard and a few protesting shouts. The woman turned towards the approaching angel straightening her white t-shirt and gripping her rosary and despite the rising tensions brought a smile to her face welcoming the angel who's muscled contracted in a desperate stampede.\n\"God is good\"She quickly clarified, \" I welcome you ,my name is-\" but she was cut short as the angel's sword mercilessly met her neck in an unceasing swoop ,not looking back as he galloped towards the small battalion. A few gasped. Dylan's hand fell from his brother and in a noiseless stream of bullets followed. The women's body fell forward. Her almost completely severed head a delicate meeting with the pavement ensuing a red stream. Out of focus, the culprit was chocked into bullets,his teeth clenched,one last clench of his sword and he fell irrevocably on the pieces of him that remained. No one spoke. No one wanted to, no one needed to. Within the troops, two women whimpered and munched themselves towards what was later revealed to be their 30-year old sister. The blond one with one shoe wanted to grasp a part of her sister yet she couldn't bring herself to touch her through trembling fingers. The older one and larger one,flipped her roughly but unintentionally,held her limp hand to her cheek in a stream of tears. A few soldiers starting walking slowly towards them whispering amongst themselves in order to take care of the body.The petite sister stood up in her bloodied dress and in an unfitting voice screamed at them. \"No!No! God is just.\" She echoed her dead sister as she glanced at the angel being scraped off the dirt by other volunteers then her other sister silently crying. \"God is just!\" She kept bawling, trying to tumble the approaching men.Her shouts resonated with assurance and through the tearing of her throat each seemed to transform into a question.It was impossible to tear the eyes away,even when one wanted to.\n\"We should keep moving\" Dylan began half-heartedly as his brother wordlessly removed his clerical collar. Dylan knew Aaron well enough to know that he did not once discard his collar out of questioning his religious convictions, but out of an egocentric motive he had yet to understand.", "\"Agaliarept has the honor!\" Boomed the usually stoic Lucifer. The roaring demon horde had gathered at the newly formed portal, straight into the heartland of the most powerful nation of the puling spawn God spat on and the Christ redeemed. The roundish doorway glowed blue, its surface rippling like water broken by the deepest crimson bolts of collective hatred arcing across its surface. This was the beginning of the end.\n\nSatanachia cursed, a black cloud of locusts emerging from the disrtuption caused by the words he spoke. \"Patience Satanachia, the hordes will follow after the fear begins.\" Chided Lucifer. A grinding susseration that would drive a man to suicide and a woman to subjugated compliance answered him. \"Your tactics can wait! The fear will make the slaughter more swift so we can spread faster. Shut your mouth or I will render you undone.\" Contemplative silence answered. \"Good.\"\n\nLucifer turned \"Agaliarept, let our reign begin!\" ordered the disgraced angel, luminescence emiting weakly from his eyes for the first time since the fall. \n\nAgaliarept stepped into the portal, it shown brightly causing the horde to raise wings and claws to block the light. Agaliarept stepped through, and was promptly flung back through missing a portion of his head. A single remaining eye blinked and stilled. Lucifer stepped forward, rage contorted his once pure face into a snout as he sniffed the body that rapidly turned to ash.\n\n\"ANDROMALIUS!\" Roared the beastly apparation lucifer was transforming into \"WHAT IS THIS!?\". One of the great earls stepped forward from his peers. He lifted the shattered skull of Agaliarept as it crumbled and crushed the ash away to reveal a flattened disc of lead. \n\n\"It appears to be a shot from a sling.\" oozed the grotesque blob, his chins quivering from fear. It was his first time being called upon by his Lord and he hated himself for appearing the coward.\n\nA wordless raging scream echoed across plains of abomination. The few strong souls in Hell at last broke. A quiet followed. A silence so severe and deep the words whispered by the Dark Lord were audible to all. \"Make them suffer. Make them suffer so as to make our home seem to be Heaven in comparison.\" Satanachia answered, his unintelligable words glowed in the brimstone air as glyphs rising above the hordes and expanding for all to see. The orders were recieved, the horde poured like a waterfall to the portal, ten abreast entered every second, less as the behemoths shoved forth. \n\n__________________\n\n\"I told you man, this ain't a damn flatscreen! This some fucked up magic shit.\" Devonte stopped trying to pick up the edge of the portal. \"Marcus, you stupid, you see that screen quality. That HD. Aint no such thing as damn magic. This baby gonna make our Christmas. Dumbass dont even know a TV.\" Devonte sighed. He was sick of doing what his cousin said. Looting for chips and beer. Avoiding \"the rush\" at electronic stores. Now with bags of snacks he was trying to fuck with some dumbass white people magic TV shit.\n\n\"Marcus quit playin and help me get this right side up.\" Marcus rolled his eyes as Devonte cussed him for calling it a magic TV. A sudden glow made Devonte jump back from the portal. A horned insect-like foot stuck through and an armor plated monster followed it. \"BOW TO-\" BLAM! Before Agaliarept could finish his command a .44 slug flung him backwards and back through. The screaming hood rats ran down the street and right into the side of a car. A police car as luck would have it. \n\nThe officers exited their vehicle ready for an attack but were suprised to see the two facedown on the pavement scooting a gun toward them and yammering about some crazy monster shit. Officer McCullen could plainly see the \"magic big screen on its side\" and nodded to his partner to check it out. Grabbing the shotgun he approached the portal just as the first ranks of Hell burst forth. He stood like a hero as he fired shell after shell into unfathomable monstrosities that piled in front of the portal. McCullen joined him with his sidearm as Devonte and Marcus ran away.\n\nThe two officers held their position until they were shot in the back by straight gangsters who heard the words \"police\" and \"shot\" from the dumbass duo and found some revenge for Micheal Brown to be had. They didnt understand why the pig kept telling them to shoot more until they saw the Things pouring forth. Straight gangbanging mother fuckers felt the cores of their souls shake as the instinct to end their enemies resounded with the primal archetypes of evil. The gut instinct to protect themselves from the unknown saved humanity as assault rifle pops mixed with the booms of shotguns. More police arrived, responding to McCullens initial dispatch, joining the gunfire in fearful bravery. SWAT found the police and remaining urbanites fighting the flow. The national guard arrived after them and finally the great US Army, Marine, and Airforce took over. \n\nThe beginning of the end was averted for now, thanks to the cooperation of men and woman of the Ferguson Police Department and Ferguson Crips. They held the portal in the beginning so we didn't have to end.\n\n(I got bored towards the end, these things always seems to ramble towards the end especially when you try to wrap them up neatly.)", "\"They won't be able to close the gate, human. It is cleft from the earth, miles across - it is the devil's realm, now, and so will be all of the north.\"\n\n\"Just watch for a second.\"\n\nA rusted-out car exploded down range, sending scraps flying. The crack hit the observer's ears with surprising volume, considering their distance at the firing line. \n\n\"That was one pound of dynamite. An explosive compound - RDX crystals and mineral oil. It looks like clay up close - here, take a look.\"\n\nThe general handed the Being a small white block. \n\n\"Ten pounds of the stuff can blow up a house, or a bridge. One hundred pounds can take a chunk out of an office building.\"\n\nSomething approaching a redneck smile almost appeared on the general's face.\n\n\"Imagine a giant block of ten one-hundred-pound clumps of the stuff, of TNT - a thousand pounds, enough to lay a shopping mall flat in three seconds, if you spread it out. Got it? Take two of those, you got one ton. Now, a ton of TNT will blow up almost anything man-made that isn't solid concrete. It'll probably be the size of a... heck, half of a car, I guess.\"\n\n\"Now, you take one thousand tons of TNT and put 'em together and you've got yourself something called a kiloton.\"\n\nAnnoyed frowns appeared on the faces of the Being. \"That won't be enough - \"\n\n\"I'm not done yet. A kiloton of TNT will ruin a few blocks of city center without much fuss - it'll collapse hills too if you put it underground.\"\n\nThe general paused for effect.\n\n\"Now, you take a thousand of those - \"\n\n\"I'm sorry.\" It was the Being's turn to interrupt. \"This is getting ridiculous. Are you wasting my time, human?\"\n\n\"You take a thousand of those, and you got a megaton. A megaton of TNT would wipe New York off the map in pretty short order - you probably saw it on your way in.\" \n\n\"The land of human-homes? The nation of grey?\"\n\n\"Yeah, uh... we call those cities. Anyway, a megaton of TNT will vaporize skyscrapers and sweep away city blocks like they were sandcastles. So, the Russians are gonna take a hundred megatons of TNT, put it all in one big bomb, load it up into a four-engine Tupolev and drop it on the... What'dja call it? The cleft.\"\n\n\"...What is a tupolev?\"\n\n\"It's an airpl... it's a flyin' machine. Jesus, do you people ever read the news up there?\" ", "“Okay and press r2 to shoot. You got that?” I said not sure how to really act in this situation. “Human I’ve existed before the Heavenly Host breathed life into the universe, I think I can figure out your controls for this “game”. “ Azrael said with a bit of an attitude. I just sat down in the chair next to the angel and watched as it went through the Campaign of Black Ops to get a feel for the gameplay before the tournament. He’s gonna get his ass handed to him. So Heaven and Hell came down to do their final slug out match. Evidently they had a blackout when it came to all things earthly. So when they came down and saw all the new tools of war and death somewhere in their heads they thought the most humane yet somehow most humiliating way to conduct war was through a video game. And that’s where I came in, one day while playing a team deathmatch, his living room filled with a white light and Azrael floated in and demanded I trains him in the way of Black Ops, (his words not mine) and so for the last three hours I’ve tried to teach a freaking arc angel how to kick ass in under a week. I looked over at the screen after rubbing my temples to be treated to Azrael getting knifed in the back for the fifth time. I wonder what hell is like. ", "**The wreckoning, as told by arvious, the second serephim of the 11th choir**:\n\n\"Lighting wrought with ghastly sunder. Thousands, clouded swarm of metallic bees, hellfire [missile] bent on destroying the forces of ye might lord. Lo, in their trial of screeching shot-explosive doomed, they did vanquish a portion of the flank, and squelch the cacophony of joy in doing the lords work once heard from the rank. Leaving only lament and dire fatality anguish, and wonder, in wake. we lived, but not in number enough to battle satan.\".\n\n**X-day, +21, a guy never making major in his UCAV (drone)**\n\n\" Holy shit! you should have seen it. There were rows and rows of these angels! winged men with spears and shields, and singing and chanting at us. Then the order went through, a green light on lighting them up. GBU-31s armed and fire. It just splashed, and they went flying. It was amazing. No one has ever seen this done on rank-and-file troop,s and there's these guys who just show up and get annihilated\". \n\n**Account of the war between heaven and hell, as told by Stan D. Mortimer, legal accountant, who dies in a car crash during 'x-day' and goes to hell only to come back as a harbinger of satan**:\n\n\"There it was, like a giant coiling serpent, rising into the air in a tornado like swirl, and lashing towards me in a heart beat. Two cold hands reaching out quickly, and grabbing the sides of my face, scaring them with a searing burn, and a message; imposed within the burning cold's transfer into the consciousness. Words whispered with seductive tact and a honey like taste. Words heard some how, and they said this\". At that, Stan's head whipped back, and his throat ripped open to reveal a toothed mouthpiece which snapped a bloody gurgled message to the television cameras placed behind the President: \"Allora, be this the continuation of days and the demesne of satan. Be this my victory. Wrought in anguish under hell, with mere words and time, and apple quenching hunger's release of knowledge upon what would become Cain and his sons. Beloved children, I show you the malice a knowledge stumbled will bring, and planted the seeds of revolution in you. The seeds of your father's kingdom destroyed, and the sowing is now\".\n\n", "My first stab at one of these: They thought us only the prize. Our souls and our world to the victor. \n Bereft of free thought it never occured to the shinning angels from the heavens. Lacking reason, the raging, terrible daemons of hell could not realise. For them, immortal as they were, years, decades, centuries passed unnoticed. Their last memory of humanity was of roman soldiers only just traiding iron armor for bronze. They saw graineries of clay and brick. They saw healers working with leeches, herbs and dirty knives. They knew us as we were over two millennia ago. \n \nIt is not that we made no mistakes. Humanity was caught by surprise when the ground beneath us tore and rent itself, untold horrors spilling out. We though the shinning, beautiful angles pouring from the skies to be our allies, but they saw only in absolutes any error, any sin and we were no different than demons to them. \n \nWe took a hit. Humanity as a whole was pushed back a step. One step. Demons in black iron armour, wielding cruel swords and demonic fire cut through the initial panicked crowds with ease. Angels held aloft on feathery wings lobbed golden arrows and dove with luminous swords at demon and men alike. \nWe squared our retreated foot behind us, raised our fists, tucked in our elbows and unleashed the vast difference between preparing for war for all eternity and fighting unendingly since we could pickup a stone. Hell forged armour, feet thick of iron on the greatest of hell beast, was brushed aside by canons made to, pierce sophisticated composite materials at immense range. Thrown hellfire was answered with raining artillery, phosphorus and atomic fire. Demon berserkers were laid flat as veteran soldiers swept through the streets. \n\nAngels were chased from the cities by helicopter gunships. Pushed into the open where they fell easy prey to supersonic jets and anti-aircraft missiles. Those that tried to perch in our skyscrapers, hide in our sprawl, or simply flee we're tracked down and struck down by our tireless robotic servants that roamed the sky. \n \nWhen at last it was over. The horsemen appeared, not to heralded, but to collect their due. Only death found some found some offerings, too little to sate his needs. Plague found humanity immunised to what diseases it had not eradicated outright. Famine took no traction against foods kept ready for decades, provisions for our survival against an apocalypse of our own making that never came.\n \nWar. War bowed. It bowed for in humanity the horseman had met his better and knew it. ", "Of course the first portal opened up in the Middle East. Jerusalem had always been *His* favorite city, so when the Rapture actually happened, nobody was surprised that it happened above the Chosen City. What did surprise everyone was *who* was raptured. Apparently, the angels were collecting only the good ones that also followed the right series of prophets AND led their lives exactly as taught. 37 humans were taken to heaven that day, all from some obscure sect of Islam that had a single mosque out in Damascus.\n\nAfter the Rapture, the gate opened up. We all expected it to be in Las Vegas, Sin City itself. Turns out that atheism was more anti-God than outright sin, and the former Soviet Union had that in droves. Moscow was swallowed by Hellfire as the demons surged in and established their dominance. Apparently you can only make new demons out of human souls, and they had to be *willing*, so the demons ran in, told everyone that God abandoned them and their best option was to become demons, and began recruiting. And fighting.\n\nItaly resisted, America really fought back hard, and the Middle East stopped being an issue. Turns out when God shows up and tells you that everyone is wrong and every ancestor you ever had fought for a lie, people get pretty pissed. It was odd, seeing the first assault by the humans being led by a joint Israeli-Pakistani air force, US Marines maneuvering to cover the flanks of jihadists, British Challenger 2 tanks rolling alongside Chinese Whisky-Zulus, Klansmen and Cameroonian soldiers side-by-side, cursing God and Lucifer equally; God for abandoning them, Lucifer for leading their ancestors astray from the word.\n\nAll those souls they had, and the demons never asked exactly what humanity was capable of. The fight shifted from probing attacks to slaughter quickly. The ground troops stormed in and sent the demons flying, and the anti-air platforms shredded them.\n\nWhen RCAF Major Jacob Martin flew into the gate, nobody knew what would happen. Would his comms cut out? Would his soul be wrenched from his body?\n\nNeither. He saw Hell itself, in its entire gory splendor. Most importantly, he saw the Civitas Est Perituraque, the City of the Damned. The Necropolis, Lucifer’s bastion in the heart of the city, stood tall, designed for protection against ground encroachment. Outside the city were almost four hundred kilometers of plains, covered by the undulating mass of the souls of the dead. Martin’s wide-band video broadcast was recorded by a dozen sources, disseminated across all seven continents, analyzed by thousands of intelligence professionals, and battle plans drawn up. Martin turned around, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible, made it back through the gate.\n\nSo, humans could go back and forth without issue. Intelligence was mounting.\n\nHumans that died in the war showed up straight to the Fiery Ramparts. He could see the Japanese Ground Self-Defense Forces, the JGSFD, had taken the field, and had suffered some losses. Not many, but some. And they were already here.\n\nOne group wasn't appearing. Demons weren't showing up at Hell’s welcome mat. When they die, they either go somewhere else, take time to get here, or (hopefully) die forever. That’s why they needed all the living humans. Their numbers, in the long run, were finite. Ours weren't.\n\nTwo objectives: the Obsidian Throne, where the new Ace of Clubs sat, and the Fiery Ramparts, the receiving line into hell. Those were what the ground forces had to get to. Luckily, they wouldn't be alone.\n\nFirst we pushed them back; then we pushed **in**. We established our beachhead. We sent all the scientists we could to the edge of the gate, even some beyond. We wanted to make sure we didn't get trapped over there. We learned quickly. Our *”interrogators”* learned plenty too, when we decided that non-humans don’t get human rights. The Americans perfected it. They just found their most depraved, the ones locked up for life for crimes unspeakable. They taught demons, those who rebelled against God himself, those who spent since time began punishing the damned, the real definition of torture.\n\n*Humanity taught demons how to fear.*\n\nThe ones who had tongues left spoke, revealed the secrets of the portals, of their abilities, of the Necropolis’ defenses. Those without tongues depicted with their flayed and broken limbs, those without limbs drew with their own blood on the walls. Humanity turned out to be better demons than the ones God cooked up himself. Maybe that was why only 37 were raptured.\n\nThe invasion went far better than we had ever hoped. The anti-aircraft artillery shredded those demons foolish enough to take flight, and although 5.56 and 7.62mm rounds wouldn't penetrate the skin of most demons, anything above that made a satisfying slurp when it plunged into dense demon flesh. As the column of armor poured into Hell, artillery covering their movement and crushing the outposts built to defend against a much holier invasion force. “King of Hell itself”, that was the new artillery catchphrase.\n\nHundreds of cargo planes thundered through Hell. They dropped thousands around the Fiery Ramparts, the gate to hell. They brought with them rifles and ammo for several times their number. The plan was clear.\n\nAs each human fell in battle, they arrived, almost immediately, to the official entrance to hell. Unfortunately for the demons, their souls, now unbound from their original flesh, became itself corporeal in order to feel the tortures of hell. Now, though, those corporeal souls carried rifles, ready to continue the push into hell. Humanity had found its own little respawn point. They hadn't tested what happens when the corporeal soul was shredded, but that was a concern for the future. Now, they had a mission.\n\nThe undulating mass of the damned seemed to wake up. There were living humans here, in hell, with them. All the hate and rage and torment inflicted upon them over the years, centuries, for some, *millennia*, came out. They turned on their jailors, a savage horde of nearly a hundred billion attacking the dwindling number of fallen angels.\n\nThe word came down. They secured three entrances into the city, plus the Ramparts. The armor column was nearing the city, and the artillery barrage was taking the walls down.\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nIt didn’t take long to clear the city. CJSOTF-H, the special operations headquarters focused on operations in Hell, had infiltrated the Necropolis, had opened the gates to the Obsidian Throne. Lucifer died standing, proud as ever, his end coming at the hands of his own corruption. An Israeli Desert Eagle pumped half a dozen rounds into his distorted, angelic mass.\n\nIt took us another few weeks to figure out how to open our own gateways. Then we began preparing for war. Hell fell a month after the Rapture.\n\nHow long would Heaven hold out?", "I hadn't been there on the first day; the day they'd come spilling through the rifts expecting a harvest. I hadn't witnessed it because I was far away. New york... That was where it'd opened up. The mouth of hell, belching forth millions of red-skins, and horned behemoths. Horrors of all shapes and sizes.\n\nI was further north. Near fishkill, newburgh.\nI'd been watching as the police of new york had been humiliated. Many of them dead in moments... Even more of them raped to death over the course of hours, days.\n\nI was among the few, the smart ones. America had brought the enemy to a grinding halt, but it hadn't been instant. I imagined that world war 2 must have felt a little like this... With a crazy land-grab from germany, followed by grinding to a halt, and a violent stagnation. But I'd been smarter. I kept my head down, hiding, skulking in the ruins and the wreckage. What's one prone man among a hoard of corpses? Just another corpse, if you don't look too close.\n\nIt wasn't until today that I really had much of a run in....\nSneaking as always in the darker and lower-down parts of New York City (I'd traveled towards it, over the course of a couple weeks.), I had been looking for anything useful; it was one of those cheap, crappy surplus stores. You know the kind, with a musty smell, and delapidated gear that had passed its sell-by date long before I was born. I was looking for ration packs, or purification tablets; anything useful that could keep - I'd been hungry for a couple days now, or almost a couple days... But supplies were scarce.\n\nAt the back of the bottom shelf near the looted counter, I found a few packets of just what I'd been looking for - purification tablets. Chlorine based. The thought of clean, clear water had me a little excited - you'd be surprised how satisfying it can be to drink something as plain as water when you're really, genuinely thirsty.\n\nAnd that was when I realised something was wrong. That in itself is the first indicator that they're nearby; the Demons... Everything starts to feel wrong. Fucked up. Something direly, crucially, and fundamentally wrong with the place, or the situation you're in... Or what you're doing. Like you're being watched by something monstrous... Only, the Demons don't always know you're there. You know THEY are, but it doesn't go both ways. They have the usual senses; sight, smell, hearing. All a little more acute than ours, but not too much. They're monsters of imperfection, afterall.\n\nBut the sight of them...\n\nThat's something to truly fear.\nThey vary so much, but this thing... This fiend.. Was a horror unlike most. \nIts skin was deep scarlet, as though it were human skin but stained thoroughly in blood. It had hollow eye sockets, with more blood and small pieces of torn muscle streaking down its face, and what I could only assume were its eyeballs, burst and shredded hanging in its face. Two smooth, black horns rose up from its deformed skull, and coiled up into the air. It walked upon two feet; the left one was split down the middle, and the right foot was missing all but its big toe, which had the nail torn up. Its ribs were splayed open like... Some fucked up display, and inside its rib-cage were slathering jaws and teeth.\n\nWell, it was the best I could do not to scream in terror as it advanced towards the store window. I slipped out of the back and then I ran like I've never ran before.\n\nI'd thought about charging the thing, but with a huge mouth like that, and just...\n\nGod, I don't think I could've fought right. I wasn't thinking straight.\nNo man should see a thing that mutilated and horrifying... Let alone moving, and vicious hunting for something to kill, or torture, or rape.\n\nMine isn't a story of victory, or success... \nI'm just trying to survive.\n\n\nS. P. Dowd", "I watched the gates of hell opened first, burst open with fire and ash, and then the gates of radiant heaven. We knew from the signals we received back from drones that a temporal weakness would generate a rip in the lower atmosphere of the Earth, off the Indian ocean, and so we had plenty of surveyors poised to stream the feed back to us. The whole station wordlessly watched as swarms of creatures poured out of the tears, and attacked not each other first, but the human civilization on the planet. In our stunned silence, we watched them pour into towns and cities across the coastline, ravish what was left, pick up and carry on their war in the next city they found. They were a plague of locust, stripping bare the corpse of human civilization, their war descending one city at a time and ripping it apart to shreds.\n \n\nTime crept by. A few hours in, one of the officers reported a fizzing on one of the orbiter shields, and worried that it indicated a short. Though it was below my rank, I could not watch the feed any longer. I suited up, and accompanied one of the specialist drones out there. \n\n\nThe Earth looked the same as it had since I was a child, with a tawny-brown surface, somewhat yellowed clouds, and endless blue seas. From this vantage, it looked unchanged, exactly as it had since the orbital survey mission started two years ago. Soon enough, the voice receiver in my helmet started to flare up with excitement from the staff and updates on the surface. The creatures were abandoning the cities. They even abandoned their war with each other. The geological lead reported streaking in the atmosphere, and I looked again at the planet below. Like a meteor shower in reverse, dozens, hundreds of small objects soared up from the surface of the Earth, pushed as hard as their wings could tolerate, but ultimately burned to char as they tried to pierce the atmosphere. \n\n\nYet one lone angel, cloaked in the sun’s own fire, was the only one capable of breaking through the upper limits of the stratosphere. It mindlessly blew through the atmosphere towards empty space to my right, but then it saw my puffy human shape, and changed its course directly up towards to me, rocketed right at me. I stopped breathing as it approached, so close, and shuddered even as I anticipated the creature’s collision with the orbital shield, which pulsed and hissed, but held. \n\n\nMy heart pounded, and my vitals must have been going haywire, but I paid no mind to the blaring of my suit. I felt some awe of this forgone God as I looked upon the form of this creature. Its hand and sword tried to rend apart the plasma field separating us, stripping its hands bare of flesh, only for its body to regenerate a moment later. It beat its wings, pushed against the shield, and shouted arcane words that could not possibly reach me, even as I floated mere yards away. \n\n\nMy grandmother had tried to impress her religion on me when I was a child. My parents wanted to raise an engineer, but all Nan wanted me to do was fear God as she did. Even on the station, in space millions of miles away from this blighted planet, Nan locked herself in her room and prayed, screamed for forgiveness, begged to her God until she died. Raged as this angel did against humanity, who had already abandoned the Earth entirely, and could not be party to this Armageddon. \n\n\nI did not understand devotion, but I did understand guilt. Nan’s generation was the one that lost this planet. In her reasoning, Earth was given to humans to shepherd, and we failed to do even that for God, and thus invited his punishment. When she died, it was not possible to give her a terrian burial per her will, yet at this moment, I believed that was for the best. Our probes found no sign yet of the dead on Earth walking, but even if they did, they would greet naught but a paradise of acid rain and dirt. \n\n\nThis angel struck me as beautiful, radiant even as it screamed, even as it raged. Superstition nearly seized me, promising me that I did not want to look into its eyes for fear of death. But I did, and all I saw was pleading. Without being able to hear its words, I understood that even now, the angel recognized me, and wanted me to return with it to the Earth. In its mind, it saw a human just outside its reach and wished desperately to save her. This holy, sublime, pitiable creature stupidly threw itself against the plasma, burning itself apart again and again, attempting to give me a salvation that humanity no longer needed.\n\n\nThe drone had finished its repair work minutes ago, and tugged on me, prompting me to check its work so we might leave. I ignored the angel for a minute, as best as I could despite its glow, then rocketed back to the ship with the nervous drone in tow. I was barely out of the airlock when my second appeared, all up in my business like a child bothering a parent who just got home from work. \n\n\n“Hey Dix,” Mihir said, “Wow, that was a hell of an encounter. Feeling touched by an angel, or what?” \n\n\n“Shove it. I made a mistake going out there,” I said, shaking my hair loose of the helmet cap. “If we just let them believe that all of the humans were completely gone, it may not be out there thrashing as hard as it is.” \n\n\nHe shrugged. “Whatever. That orbiter had to get fixed one way or another, though you should have sent me out instead.” He really made no attempt to hide his restlessness. Mihir tapped the glass of the viewport, indicating the glowing, golden creature. “How’re you feeling about that secondary objective? Since he was kind enough to come up and say hi, you want to make a pass at grabbing that sonuvabitch?” \n\n\n“Give me a minute to think, *hoss*.” The problem with being stationed out beyond the colonial Circle was that you got a lot of impatient, wanna-be cowboys as subordinates, itching to cause some mayhem out beyond the reaches of civilized space. Of course hog-tying an angel and making it a prisoner would be interesting to him. “For now, the science team has enough data on their hands to work on.”\n\n\n“*If* you can get them to work. I never thought I’d see those science nerds lose their cool, but they are damn near dancing on top of their computers. The ones still sober have their eyes rolling in the back of their head, just rabid at seeing those images coming back from Earth.” Mihir grimaced, like he still couldn’t grasp the ‘nerds’ as beings more emotional than a calculator. “I asked Marc to guard the whiskey closet in case they decided to stampede.”\n\n\nI waved my hand, dismissing his concern. “They predicted a supernatural event. They can celebrate that.” Even up until a few hours ago, and despite the imaging and calculations predicting extra-dimensional creatures, I didn’t believe that the temporal weaknesses would burp out anything more exciting than space dust onto the Earth. Yet now, I felt the draw of one of those creatures, and though Mihir had joked about a touch, I felt like I had strayed too close to the influence of that angel. Though I could see it through the viewport if I wished, I refused to. \n\n\nWe passed through to the hallway, where reporting officers crowded and waited. Now that some more of the subordinates were here, Mihir straightened out his posture, looking less like a farmhand and somewhat more like my lieutenant. \n\n\n“Colonel Gurerra,” Officer Muir, sharp as a blade and ruthlessly organized, pressed me harder than any of the other crowding subordinates. Judging from her eyes, I was sure I’d soon hear about her displeasure about my spacewalk. “The ships are all dialed in and requesting guidance. What are the orders for the radial fleet?” Orders for the other dozen spaceship like mine, all battleships orbiting this blighted Earth and maintaining the shield around it. \n\n\n“Continue observations. Pick up as much remote data and video feed of the creatures as possible. Drones to orbit the inner atmosphere, do not make landfall, sweep and pick up any changes to the planet itself. Clear any space walks by me first.” I thought of the angel’s eyes, the ones that begged to allow me within its grasp, a creature madly desperate to find and save even one human, so it may fulfill God’s mission. \n\n\nI did not trust intentions like that. “If any creature breaches the planetary shield, destroy them.” \n\n\nGod had not given us our role - the president did. Our mission is called Grigori, and we are the Watchers of Earth now.", " I loved the deep places of the earth: caves, valleys, canyons. The way the earth would rise up to either side, like cresting waves forever frozen in time. It was my love of these valleys of the earth that prompted me to suggest we go hiking in the Grand Canyon. \n\nWe were all experienced hikers. We'd done a chunk of the Appalachian trail last year for 3 weeks, and we'd drive out to Mt Hood from Portland for weekend trekking to get away from it all. There were five of us all told, me, Katie, Eric, Daniel, and Josh. Of all of us, I was the only non-collegiate athlete. I was just an engineering student. Katie, Daniel, and Josh were all on the track team: Katie and Josh did pole-vaulting, high jump, and long jump; Daniel did shot-put, discus, and javelin. Eric was a basketball player. I was a whopping 5'8\", but everyone else towered over me, none shorter than 6'4\" (Katie), the the tallest being Eric (7 feet). Normally I wouldn't notice it, but for some reason, today I did. The thought reminded of something interesting I'd read in bible school as a kid, reading through the books they'd have in the room but never teach from, about a special class of angels. The Grigori. The Watchers.\n\nThe Watchers were a special class of angels, sent by God to guide humans into the knowledge of their Lord gradually after their expulsion from Eden. Certainly, they had eaten of the fruit, but that meant nothing more than an awakening of consciousness and curiosity. It brought no true knowledge with its consumption.\n\nAnd so God made certain that he did not send his favored creations out into the world without protection. They taught Man how to find and make shelter, how to make clothes, how to tame animals and how to farm.\n\nThis close relationship had its consequences. The Watchers had begun to lust for human women (or so it goes), and at the urging of Yaqum, began to take for themselves as many wives as they wished. They, as any father would, sought to give their sons the best possible edge in life, and so they began to teach their sons (and in turn, the humans), knowledge that had been forbidden by God (at least for the time being). They taught their sons the martial arts, how to kill with a single blow of the hand, how to make arms and armor and how to make war. They taught them cosmetics and science, how to read and write and how to read the weather. \n\nAnd as it said in Genesis 6:1-4 \"When men began to multiply on earth and daughters were born to them, the sons of God saw how beautiful the daughters of man were, and so they took for their wives as many of them as they chose. Then the Lord said: \"My spirit shall not remain in man forever, since he is but flesh. His days shall comprise one hundred and twenty years.\" At that time the Nephilim appeared on earth (as well as later), after the sons of God had intercourse with the daughters of man, who bore them sons. They were the heroes of old, the men of renown.\"\n\nIt was with those thoughts in my mind, in the midst of Bright Angel Canyon that we found him.\n\n\"Hallooooo tiny humans! My name is Gadreel. Could you point me in the direction of Armageddon?\"\n\nWe were dumbfounded. If I felt short in my company before, I felt like a downright midget. He must have been 40 feet tall, with huge glorious wings and ...did his sandals say \"MK\"?\n\n\"The fuck?\" I blurted out. Obviously my mind and mouth were not attached at the moment, or somebody had decided peyote in the morning tea was just what we needed.\n\n\"No, none of that today folks, just no time,\" he said. \"Not that I wouldn't mind having a go at you later\" he said to me, in a giant's attempt at a poorly done nod-and-a-wink.\n\nI looked around at my friends. They were petrified with fear. I realized that I was the only one who seemed to realize this guy was *talking*.\n\n\"Are you always this big?\" I shouted up to him.\n\n\"I'm usually bigger!\" He chuckled.\n\n\"Are you an angel?\"\n\n\"A fallen one, yes.\"\n\n\"Could you make yourself smaller?\"\n\n\"Ah, yes, sorry.\"\n\nAnd just like that, he was 10 feet tall. Still huge as hell, but I didn't think I'd need to go to a chiropractor just from looking at him anymore.\n\n\"You said something about the Armageddon?\"\n\"Yes! Yes! My bonds are broken, so it must be that time. I was so worried about if any of our children had survived the floods the whole time I was chained up, but seeing your friends here, I'm a lot less worried,\" he spoke, sitting down. My neck was feeling better already.\n\nThe angel suddenly sneezed, and the unexpected action seemed to shake my friends from their shock. I watched as their eyes blinked and their mouths moved, searching for words at what they were seeing. I figured they'd catch up eventually.\n\n\"Are you a Grigori?\" I asked. All the signs had pointed to it, but if we really were speaking to a Fallen Angel and Armageddon really was going down, it couldn't hurt to know more.\n\n\"Yes. Now, about that Armageddon?\"\nI reached into my pack for our sat phone. In the upper left of the screen were tons of alerts. I swiped down to read them, thinking they were flash flood warnings or some other weather alert, but the text made no sense. Thunder cracked overhead despite there being no clouds, crashing like a sonic boom all around us, making the whole canyon reverberate. I switched over to my twitter app, and the feed was filled with stuff about cities all over the world being attacked by angels and demons.\n\"Why are angels attacking?\" I asked, as the angel swept forward and snatched the phone out of my hand. His finger accidentally pressed a link on one of the tweets, and a video from the news loaded from a live streaming broadcast.\n\n\"Chasms have opened in the ground to what we're being told are Hell gates. Rifts to heaven have opened as well in ever location there's a Hell Gate. We are currently witnessing Armageddon. Mecca, Rome, Paris, New York, Delhi and Bangkok have all been overrun by demons surging out into the streets, but the beings that appear to be angels seem to be fighting them, but with no regard for human life.\"\n\nIn the background behind the reporter you could see a huge, bloody, fiery creature burst forth from a building and advance on her. It must've been 12 feet tall of pure agonizing torture. As it reached for her, the reporter screaming in fear, you saw it get run over by a tractor trailer and get pinned against a bank before the buffer stopped.\n\n\"I guess the nearest major city is where you'll find action then.\" Looking at Gadreel, I asked \"What are you going to do?\"\n\n\"I hate demons, and Heaven forsook us for falling in love. I care only about humanity. I taught my sons a lot, but few of them used it wisely. I did not however, teach them everything. Humanity seems to be on the right track with that metal carriage that killed that demon. I'm going to accelerate your education.\"", "It took over 6 weeks to muster the troops and get the equipment here, but we were finally ready to take the battle to them.\n\nSix weeks ago a rift had opened in the Nevada desert. Hundreds, thousands of ... things ... came pouring through it. Things out of our nightmares. Things the old religions called \"Demons\" or \"Devils\".\n\nA few minutes later a second rift opened in the skies above the first. Winged humanoids, resembling what the old religions called \"Angels\" poured forth. Soon both groups began fighting each other, ignoring the few humans in the area.\n\nThe army and airforce were scrambled. The initial battle was intense but short. Soon there was nothing between the two rifts except dead bodies and destroyed equipment. The angels and demons, to borrow on the old descriptions, turned from tearing each other apart to defend themselves against man and machine.\n\nMankind had won the first battle between heaven and hell, if that's what we were seeing.\n\nNow we were finally ready. We are set to invade through both rifts. Heaven will be invaded by the Airforce. Hell is to be invaded by land.\n\nFlights in and out of the upper rift have given us the intel we needed to organize the invasion. At first there was no response to our scouting but lately fewer and fewer planes were returning. \n\nHundreds of men loaded onto cargo planes. More planes carried the equipment they will need. Fighter planes are ready to defend them until the troops and equipment can be dropped.\n\nScouts sent through the lower rift sent back maps and enemy movements. Troop/equipment allocations have been made to match them. Thousands of men, tanks, and rocket launchers are set to move.\n\nWe are finally ready. \n\nNobody believed in the old religions anymore, but we are now ready to find out...\n\n\n", "First time posting here, thought I'd give it a try. If I did anything wrong, let me know. Anyways, here it goes. Also keep in mind I'm a non native english speaker. If some words are used wrong, let me know.\n___\n\n“I’ve borne witness to the first words and my eyes have seen the Ascension of Enoch. I’ve slain Archdemons the size of cities and battled the impervious”, the creature’s breath in the crater came ragged “These are the end times. This can’t be”. \n“Hm?” Asana raised her head. She sat atop a small hill of spontaneously relocated dust and dirt, smouldering smoke embraced her Silhouette. She held what looked like a long staff with a metallic mushroom in one hand and a smaller stick made of metal in the other. \n“Oh look, we’ve got a talker over here”, she said as she took a leap into the crater. Her worn leather boots hissed when they touched the quickly cooling stone. The creature in the crater looked humanoid, albeit a particularly malnourished one. Asana kicked aside a piece of golden armor and crouched next to the dying angel. \n“You’ve been a mistake from the start, humans”, the angel opened it’s eyes. There was still some of that golden shimmer left in them. It looked up at the sky with a deep longing and what looked like homesickness. \n“Your kind always turns heretic in the end, you know that?”, said Asana and used the long stick to nudge one of the angels arms closer to the body “Oh never mind me, I thought I saw part of your wings. You do need those, right? Doctor van Kalmund said something about solar energy conversion”. \n“You’re a monstrosity. You should have never been born”, the Angel clutched a hand towards it’s chest, covering a bullet sized hole with a golden glow around it. \n“Think of us this way, Angel”, Asana couldn’t help the sarcasm in her voice “We’re the Reconcilers of Brothers. In death, be you demon or angel, thou shalt curse our creation” \n“Reconcilers”, the creature pushed it’s battered body up and spit on the ground “You’re nothing of the sorts. You made a deal with someone. You possess artefacts far beyond your capabilities. Was it the Outsiders? The Innerva or the Kustunar?” \nAsana blinked. For a moment, she just stood there blinking at the angel, witnessing the defiance in the eyes and the anger and hatred that had taken root in them. She blinked again and then burst into laughter. The puzzled look on the angel’s face only reinforced her laughter. \n“This”, she patted the long stick as she finally winded down “is too high tech for you?” \n“A sentient arrow can only be magic, something humans should not have access to.” \n“This isn’t magic”, Asana crouched down again and grinned. \n“Yet, I have seen it chase my brothers with the ferocity of a hell hound and the anger of a thousand suns.” \n“What’s your name, Angel?”, Asana leaned her head towards a shoulder. \n“Amariel.” \n“Good, Amariel. This is a heat seeking missile launcher. You being creatures of light and demons being creatures of fire, all you really do is produce a rather funny amount of excess heat and stink. I’m only talking to you because Angels stink of Cinnamon and not Brimstone”, she leaned closer until her lips nearly touched the twitching ears of Amariel. Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed that one of the holes had been healed already. The creature was regenerating fast. \n“Tell me the secret”, Amariel begged in a surprisingly humble tone that put Asana on edge and lit several warning signs in her mind. \n“Very good, Amariel. I shall”, she clapped her hands and planted her lips on the earlobe “We took this from a museum. This is Retro-Chic!”\nShe blowed the Angel a Mock Kiss and stood up again, a smirk on her lips. \n“This technology is so old, we had to look up the schematics on how to build these things”. \nThe Angel gave her a blank stare as it tried to take in the information. Asana could tell from the look on the eyes that it somehow didn’t really connect. \n“See buddy, when your party bus decided to come to town we had a bit of a problem”, she leaned the Missile Launcher against the edge of the crater “Our weapons were too advanced to fight you. All that smart gun and nanite crap just didn’t cut it with you buggers. We quite literally had to go Dark Ages on your ass”, she tilted her head “or was that figuratively?” \n“Human, maybe we can negotiate a truce. With your help, we could banish the demons once and for all. We could turn this into the paradise it once was”, Amariel hunched forwards and stretched both Arms. Asana noticed that the wounds had for the most part closed and only the silly golden blood that had poured from them made it look quite a bit more grim. \nAsana sighed and paced a few steps up and down as if pondering the words.\n“Can’t do”, she finally said and shrugged her shoulders. \n“We’ve offered you talks of peace time and time again mortals, why do you deny us council?” \n“Two reasons, creature”, she held her hand in front of her face and raised a finger “One. You only started talking after you were done scorching half the globe and suddenly found your troops dying”. \n“And two?”, Amariel eyed the human woman. Asana reached into a pocket and pulled out a leather-bound book. \n“The holy scripture?”, Amariel said with a confused tone in its voice. \n“The bible. You know, the whole deal about the endtimes?” \n“Technically, it just refers to the spiritual concepts and the battle with Babylon” \nAsana tossed the book over towards the nearly regenerated angel, a flimsy of feathers had already appeared on it's back again. \nShe waved her hand and lifted a second finger “Technicalities. Agreed. Know what gets humans really mad though?”. She lifted the shorter metal stick and pointed the end with the hole at the head of the angel. \n“What does?” \n“Goddamn spoilers” \nBlam. \n\n/Updated a few mistakes that were pointed out. :)", "Jackson's phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked down the scope of the .270 one more time, then let it rest on the bipod. Pictures of an army unit posing next to the corpse of Famine in gas masks were running through twitter. He nodded his head and continued to scroll through his feed. War had been gunned down in Alabama three days ago. That only left Conquest, and his own quarry, that good old Pale Rider. Jackson dropped his phone, pressing the butt of his rifle into his shoulder.\n\nAn imp had appeared at the end of the street, nervously peering around the corner with a black iron pitchfork clenched in his hand. Jackson \nsighted in. The shot went through the creatures pitch black eye with a wet squelch, the gunfire muffled by the suppressor clamped over the end of his long rifle. He lifted his camera. Jackson photographed the body, tagging his location so he could collect the bounty later.\nThe government was offering ten thousand per demon below six feet, twenty for the ones that went over. Fifty thousand for angels, but most of them had fled in the early days. It was all small change compared to what they were offering for the horsemen, those guys had millions on their bodies. \nDeath had ridden north out of Colorado, according to Reddit, so there was a fifty fifty chance he was heading this way, if he was heading this way at all. And then he heard them.\n\nHooves on asphalt. Slowly Jackson's hand crept to the bolt on his rifle, gently sliding it into place. The scythe was drooping over the side of the horse, the tall pale rider had his armored hand clenched over his bleeding gut. His helmet was on the pommel of his saddle. \n\"Hello my old friend\" Jackson whispered as he pulled the trigger. For a rifle he had bought at Walmart, it made pretty nice holes.\n\n\nEdit: what the fuck is a site pressor.\n", "The fissures opened simultaneously, all over the world. Gaping maws leading to a realm of torment. From the abyss poured the stuff of nightmares. Multi-headed demons and monstrosities there are no names for. At the same time, the sound of a thundering chorus of trumpets rang out all over the world, and swaths of the sky were engulfed in blinding light. From this light came the opposing force, Heaven's angels. Clad in polished armor, wielding swords and pikes, gracefully gliding towards their enemies on pristine wings.\n\nThe gates of hell had opened in populated areas, and the angels responded in kind. It was all anybody could do to witness the carnage. Demons sliced to shreds, angels ripped to pieces. It looked like the battle would rage fiercely, until the initial fervor wore off. Good and evil alike began getting clumsy. Missing and falling. You could hear the screaming from miles away. They all held their heads, tried to claw at their eyes and ears, until finally, after twenty-seven horrifying and confusing minutes, there was no movement or sound.\n\nThe world held its breath, as people began to approach the former battle zones.\n\nDead. They were all dead.\n\nIn the coming weeks, we have not had any more incursions, and scientists of nearly every field were committed to finding out about the supernatural figures. It turns out their senses were much broader than ours.\n\nWifi, cell phones, satellite, ham radio, AM/FM.\n\nThey were deaf and blind by the end, when they all hemorrhaged and bled out.\n\nWe killed them with our infrastructure.", "It was fitting, actually. Jesus was nailed to a cross - a human innovation - and Heaven and Hell were tamed by machines.\n\nWe were holed up in the City of Angels. Gunfire lit up the Los Angeles skyline as pockets of troops held out at street corners, in looted buildings, and within the giant skyscrapers that dwarfed even the famed Tower of Babylon.\n\nTheir primary advantage was their mobility. Demons clung to the sides of buildings and Angels soared over the skyline as they fought over the fate of humanity. Their initial numbers were overwhelming, too. When Tannhauser Gate burst open in Ottawa, the city was overrun in a matter of hours. The surprise at the scale of the invasion from Heaven meant scrambling the troops lost us valuable territory and information about troop movements.\n\nLikewise, the opening of Erebus in London heralded a demonic invasion on a scale unimaginable. The Bible-thumping fundamentalists could only stand, slack-jawed, as abominations poured out of the gaping wound and rended their flesh with torture instruments unthinkable by man. \n\nAfter the initial invasions, more gates burst forth - usually in populated urban centers - and so for a moment it looked like humanity was doomed.\n\nThen we remembered the progress we'd made in the last ten thousand or so years - brewing beer, domesticating animals, making spears, and so forth - and chuckled. With the Second Coming occurring today, the forces of Heaven and Hell were woefully behind on what we'd been up to.\n\nI gazed upon a demon climbing eagerly towards me, the broken glass beneath his claws doing little to dissuade him from scaling the side of the financial building.\n\nA shell from an M1 Abrams proved a little more persuasive, as he plummeted to the ground.\n\nI took a puff of my cigarette. No sense in being urgent on break. Plenty of time to panic later. \n\nAn angel swooped down. Her otherwise beautiful face was twisted in a look of contempt and scorn at my presumably sinful form. I snorted in derision before she was blown out of the sky by a rocket. As she tumbled down to earth, her wings ripped from her by terminal velocity, I tapped some of my ashes out.\n\n\"Captain,\" a voice called out behind me, \"Break time's over. Man the machine-gun nest. My trigger finger's tired.\"\n\nI nodded at my superior as he walked up behind me and offered him a light. Long day ahead, but everyone was pretty certain it would turn out fine.\n\nWhat was that saying? Ah, right.\n\nAlways look on the bright side of life." ]

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[ "\"And goodbye old friends\" I waved to the tree colony i had been watching grow for the last ten thousand years and set out to find if mankind was still around somewhere, the last time i saw them i was ruler of the world before getting bored and started watching the seed i planted grow.\n\nIt wasn't long before i found a city, though the people who wandered around made me unsure if i was in a human city, at first i chalked it up to not having seen them for so long, but then i walked past a large reflective metal surface, not having seen my reflection in so long i took a good look, my naked body reminded me that my cloths had decayed again at some point, but as i looked closer i saw some curious differences between me and those \"humans\" walking down the street, \nfor one they had grown tails, completely lost their noses and had almost no hair to speak of, undaunted by the differences i walked up to the nearest humanoid only to find their language was incomprehensible to me, the human offered me a language chip thing but apparently it needed to be put in the brain and guess who's brain is tamper proof.\n\n \"So what did you do then?\" asked one of the children surrounding me.\n\n\"Simple i said, just waited till you had a language i could understand , only took a few thousand years.\"", "I had been growing my hair out for about a year before it happened and had decided I didn't like it enough to keep. It looked okay, but I felt it would look better short again.\n\nI wanted to just shave it short myself (or have my dad do it). Maybe a quarter-inch at most, but my mother insisted on having a professional do it. So we put it off. \n\nWhen I finally went to a barber shop the man couldn't cut it. The scissors blunted and chipped, and the clippers got jammed, pulling my hair (which still hurt like hell). Nothing worked.\n\nA few hours of experimentation showed that i couldn't cut anything on me. Needless, knives, even a chainsaw- not my best idea, I'll admit- left no Mark on me.\n\nA week later I noticed a small cut on my finger, after a moment of excitement I realized to my disappointment that it was just a paper cut I had gotten before the haircut attempt. It had stopped healing. I guessed that this meant I probably would stop aging too. At least 19 wasn't a terrible age to be stuck at.\n\nIt's been 3 years. People still accept that I \"look young for my age\", but that won't last forever. Theoretically I'm gonna be alive forever. Humanity may evolve or die off or who knows what, and I would still be here. Exactly the same as I always was.\n\nHonestly I'm okay with it. I've accepted my fate. I just wish I could get a fucking haircut.", "Damn, I had an idea for this but lost it. Was gonna culminate with a comment about having an uncomfortable pimple on your ass for eternity.", "In my youth I dawdled back and forth from God, sometimes attending the Methodist Church of the Christ two blocks down the way, other times having a young mans doubts and staying beneath the cozy linens in my single story at the end of Chatham Drive come Sundays. \n\nIn my old age God became more practical for a great many reasons and my attendance at church markedly improved. I became close with Reverend Marcus, a righteous man, who near as I could tell had spent the first half of his life memorizing the Bible and the second half slowly forgetting the damned thing. \n\nAt 86, old as anything in my small corner of Illinois, the doctor told me that my fearful cough had been on account of a cancer the size of a golf ball buried in my left lung. I had never been too comfortable with the idea of death and such, so I asked the specialist what I could do. I felt a young mans rage rear up inside when said \"You've lived a long life, Mr. Flowers, it would be best to take this one with grace\".\n\nI stormed out of his office and headed right up to the Church of the Christ. I put my head down on the front pew and prayed harder than anyone can imagine. Just about jumped out of my skin when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Wasn't the Almighty though, just Reverend Marcus. He prayed alongside me for a while, then picked his head up and tapped me on the shoulder.\n\nHe looked a little uncomfortable,\n\n\"You know, none of this stuff is baloney, there really is a God waiting for you up there if you've lived a righteous life.\"\n\n\"I don't know if I have Reverend, I tried, but I liked my women too much, my alcohol too much, and I can't say I have ever done any great good for anyone.\"\n\n\"Well there is something for that, you know.\"\n\nI felt the tumor in my lung stirring up another cough.\n\n\"How do you mean Reverend?\"\n\n\"Hmm, well don't you worry about any of that, I'll work something out for you.\"\n\nGosh, the forgetfulness sure was taking him quick.\n\n\"Well I would appreciate it Reverend, make sure you let me know how that goes.\"\n\n---\n\nDidn't ever see the Reverend after that, there was a big old search and everything, but nothing was ever found. It was like the foggy old man had just slipped through a crack in the earth. I was too old to look for him, a fellow at my age can't just be bouncing through the woods searching for cadavers.\n\n---\n\nThe doctor says the cancer is acting funny, not poisoning me no more, just sitting there not doing anything. Couldn't tell me why the cough stopped too though.\n\n---\n\nI was cooking an egg today and smelled smoke. Looked down and my sleeve was on fire. My whole damned forearm had been laying on the stove and I didn't feel it. Other things like that too. Can't ever seem to hurt myself. Cant ever feel no serious pain.\n\n---\n\nFast Forward 100,000 Years.\n\n---\n\nI'll tell you my friend, human kind sure has gotten a whole lot smarter, but they ain't learned nothing. Couldn't beat a toddler in chess, what with the perfect genetics of nowadays, but someone has a problem with their sweetheart? They all come see Hiram Flowers at Chatham Drive. \n\nThey tell me that I am a totally different species of human that the one that walks the Earth today, isn't that something. Different brain mostly from what they tell me, but people are skinner to, their faces all big like dolls. Makes it a little freaky when they're eyes get all wide when I tell em all about ancient history and such.\n\nMy little single story is a museum of sorts. The town is long gone, no roads even, but there is always a long line of visitors ready to teleport into the lobby. Sometimes they ask about girls like I was saying, or they asking about this world leader or that religious fellow. I tell them what I can remember. I sometimes get away with fibs, like knowing Jesus and Alexander the Great and things like that. Tell you a lot though, I suppose, that my little civilization in rural Illinois was just about as primitive as ancient Israel. \n\nThe doctors stopped coming a long time ago, they never could tell what was keeping me going. I like normal people better anyhow. Ive already taken ten visitors today. Millions since I started doing this thing, never the same face twice. I'm a tourist destination at this point, like the Walls of Jericho, not a person. I look at the information screen for the next person and smile warmly.\n\nFinally a familiar name.\n\n\"How are you Reverend?\"\n\n\"Good, good, just wanted to check in.\"", "My 927th son is so full of curiosity. I'm an alien, even to his eyes. We sit on the porch looking over my farm, my own field of dreams. I named it that but nobody gets the reference. No man wants to explain himself, but that's exactly what I'm doing. \n\nY'see son even before I become immortal it was outdated by a good 20 years. Its called a goatee. It really has no purpose. A man from the 1990s named Ben Affleck was the prototype for all white people. I am but a sapling of his seed. You know him as the ancient one who killed the Batman franchise for 300 years. I would like to have grown a ZZ-Top beard but I live with that regret all my days now. \n\nMy son struggles to stay on Rainbow Road as i open up about my past... Every man of my time wondered if it could be done son, but with a limited life span it was impossible. My gift allowed me all the time in the world. I watched every porno on the internet. Some more than once...some many times, but in the end i had seen it all. My eyes have witnessed the equivalent of 12 atomic bombs worth of shame. I took a 100 year vow of celibacy following this achievment. \n\nAfter that i decided to spread my seed instead of wiping it on... well everything. You are one of many children. I decided to impregnate a woman from every country, ethnicity and background in the world. It was pretty awesome. I didn't change a single diaper. I accumulated much wealth which allowed me to hire maids. I invested in Google before it became the single company for everything we have today. Everything you've ever touched, seen or consumed comes from the mighty Google. In my day we had choices. \n\nWhich is why i have the farm son. i chose to smoke cigarettes and now that I can't die this is what i do. I farm tobacco. I sit here with my infinite knowledge and wealth, brew a cup of Keshir Buna and smoke.", " |Days since becoming immortal: 36500000 | Journal entry I |\n\n Here we are. One hundred thousand years. Everything has changed so slowly, and many things have advanced, but very slowly. We're reaching the point where so much has been discovered there aren't many more discoveries to make. \n\n Many values have withered away and been replaced by a substitute of pathetic proportions. Nobody cares about your talent, nobody cares about happiness, they just want more of everything. That's how they were raised, and they don't know that everything was once based on values and rights. \n\n I remember. I remember every day. I remember every death of every person who was brave enough and courageous enough to be my friend. I remember everything so clearly, so distinctly. All the nightmares just pile up and strengthen, and nothing is forgotten. In those nightmares and in those terrible memories, there are still memories of how things were, and the joyous moments with my parents and friends early in life, but I'm only reminded that they disappeared long ago, and all those friends are dead and gone. All the memories haunt me and mock me.\n\n Being immortal, most see it as a blessing, or a gift of the highest grade. I see it as a curse. A curse of the highest grade. Most people don't want to die, but as the days grow longer and more distorted, the colors grow grey, and the heart has been shattered by the long nights in silence and all the rejections from society by anyone and everyone. Most see the opportunity of this planet as a gift, but to me it's just an endless Hell. \n \n I appear on the outside a mysterious figure- one with visible physical perfection. On the inside, to those who catch a glimpse, I'm nothing but an empty shell, a hollow cavern containing only the things necessary to human life. \n\n I don't know why I'm still here, why I'm immortal in the first place. My father and mother were very secretive people, only sharing as much as they had to, and they just disappeared one day. Haven't returned since. There was a year-long search throughout the country, police called to every other colonized place on this earth, but nobody found anything. \n\n Maybe they were the same as me. Maybe they were hiding something. Maybe I'm the next race of humans. I don't want to be the next race, I don't want to be special, I want to be normal. People seem to wish they weren't just another person. I'd gladly trade places with them. \n\n I'd want nothing more than to just die- to be able to lie in peace, to have the relief of nothing pressing down on me. Peace at last. A final resting ground. That's why today is my last day writing in here for a while. No, I'm not dying, but I'm going to sleep for a long, long, time. I will exist in my thoughts, time blurring with the days, months, years, centuries, millennia, that I may spend in here before someone discovers me. With that, I am submerged into this chamber, a foot underground for every year I've lived, buried with this journal by my side. Maybe my energy will be gone. Maybe I'll finally be able to die peacefully.\n\n See you in another millennium. \n\n ", "It was really weird that this happened to me. ME. If anyone had told me, that I would become immortal in an age of 21, I would have shot myself with a big fat grin on my face, long before such a thing could ever happen. \nI guess the first few 100 years was kinda fun, exploring the earth, essantially doing whatever I wanted. But the problem is, that I never wanted to live forever. The beauty of life is how short and fragile it is. Hundred thousand years didn't make any difference, I knew I was a freak from the moment this happened to me. \n\n*the* *door* *slammed* *open*. *At* *first* *her* *eyes* *hurt*, *but* *eventually* *they* *got* *used* *to* *the* *light*. \n\n*Like* *something* *out* *of* *a* *nightmare*. *tall*, *purple*, *slimy* .... *Strange*. \n*But* *earthlings*. *Once* *human*, *but* *now* *something* *else* *entirely*. *And* *they* *had* *finally* *captured* *her*. *The* *last* *human*.\n\nAnd now they have captured me. Imprisoned me. I tried for so long. As soon as I realised what they would become, I could instantly feel my guts telling me - no - *screaming* to me, that I should run. Run and hide and nothing more. Yet I failed. But I guess two thousands years is a pretty good game of hide and seek. \n\nWhat is this place their leading me through though? \n\n*And* *then* *they* *stopped* \n\nA gigantic, black rusty door towered over me, and with an eerie *squeek*, that made it sound like it had never been opened before, it did.\n\n*as* *soon* *as* *the* *door* *opened*, *something* *in* *her* *head* *snapped*. \n*She* *had* *lived* *for* *hundred* *thousand* *years*. *Seen* *so* *much* *happiness*, *insanity*, *joy* *and* *pain*, *but* *this* *she* *couldn't* *take* . \n*She* *simply*... *screamed*.", "That's because being viewed as a benevolent emperor-god by all 30 billion members across all 100,000 light-years of the united transhuman empire does a lot for your confidence.", "I am what's left. A testament to what once was. Ancient as the world itself and far outlived every deity humanity has ever created.\n\nSome Forty thousand years ago, I was a god amongst men. Humans both feared and adored me alike. Ever since the experiment, I knew I was writing a new chapter of my life. \n\n*Take a pill, a dose of radiation, and leave with a fat cheque the next day.* \n\nThat's what they told me. Sure enough I got the fattest cheque. And a complementary side dish of immortality. Others developed weird powers too. But they were soon hunted down and exterminated. Not me. I played it safe. Traveled as far north as my legs carried me. Cut off my relations with everyone else and settled in the woods. I waited my death sentence out. I stopped counting after the eleventh winter. Solitude grew on me. Not having to eat, keep warm or even take a piss meant I had an advantage over the elements. I could survive any where. And I did.\n\nIf you were lucky enough to find a history book or two, you will find me there. If the internet is still around you could probably find some traces. Vague pictures captured by scared bush pilots. History wrote me down as a hero, an anomaly, a freak, a demigod and a monster. I am all that and I am what's left.\n\nI traveled the world. Witnessed humanity and civilization rise and fall hundreds of times. Each time humans would lose something. Something of their core values and makings. With every war we gave up some of the light inside us. Until our entire world plunged into darkness. And so did we.\n\nI have been hiding underground for millennia. I lost count after the third. I spent most of that time sleeping and eventually managed to read some Russian literature. Tolstoy, you better pray I never find your grave.\n\nI woke up to a different song in the air today. Something was telling me to get out and check if it's safe to breathe again. For me that wasn't a problem, you see I am immortal. That has already been established. But the earth gets lonely when you're the only living thing around. Something was different today. I actually felt out of place. And for someone who is as old as me to say this, something must be wrong. That's when I first saw them, eight or so figures gracefully moving in the distance. \n\nI was excited to have finally encountered life! But something stopped me dead in my tracks. They seemed different. They didn't look human at all. I am not talking about aliens either, we have already proved that we were alone. We couldn't find life anywhere in space. These entities looked different. Taller than a regular human, sleeker and appeared to be made out of some dark smoke. It's like human beings have finally transcended into a better form. The world has evolved and wants me, the ancient relic, removed. They came after me, they knew I was there and they attacked me. I think they are still out there looking for me and I am heavily bleeding. I don't think I will survive the night. \n\nI am what's left.", "Feelings.\n\nI wish I remembered how they felt like.\n\nTo be hurt, to be sad, to be angry, to love. I'm just a body, aimlessly walking this universe. I'm not searching for anyone or anything, I'm not trying to cleanse myself through a spiritual journey; I'm just moving, that's all I do anymore, move.\n\nI've walked so much, the world has changed. Wars, epidemics, disasters, have shaped this world so much. We've flown to the stars and back, cured cancer, extended life. We have become Gods. \n\nHumans have adapted, their chests are more barreled to keep bigger, more complex lungs to survive harsher environments not only from our own poisoned world, but other alien planets. Our eyes have become dim and wide from all the screens and sensors we look at all day. Skulls enlarge to fit our bigger brains to handle more senses and our surroundings. \n\nBut here I am, my chest flat, my tired eyes look closed compared to others, and a head small. I get looks, I've been examined, torn apart, put back together again, but I don't change. No matter what I always look the same. I've been freak, but to me, all of the rest are freaks.\n\nI am who I am; a cursed man, stuck in time, traveling the worlds for no reason, just trying to find a place, to lie down, to rest and to hopefully be gone from this Hell.", "Another try from me. This one I found surprisingly complex to tackle and had trouble spinning a narrative around it. It's quite an interesting concept though and I really loved the opportunity to write about it. \nPlease feel free to point out wrongly used words or major mistakes and issues, I'll try to learn from them and better my language. \n____\n\n“What do you want from me, young one?”, the thundering voice of the Antithesis had a coarse ring to it “Came to mock me some more, haven’t you? Leave me alone!” \nIri-As-Inie felt the sonic waves brush over her like a tidal wave. She braced it with both feet firmly planted on the ground and all four hands holding on tight. Iri-As-Inie made a threatening noise with her gums and her silvery long hair stood up in a bright half-circle, making her appear even bigger. \n“I yield, I yield!”, this time the Antithesis sang with a much more manageable volume and one of those odd tones in its voice that Iri-As-Inie could never quite guess right. It was dissonant and ugly and it still felt like an ocean tugging on her senses. The Antithesis sat on the floor, both legs casually stretched, back against the wall. All two of its flappy arms wrapped around the heavy barrelled chest. \n“Yet once again, what do you want from me?” \nIri-As-Inie gathered all her energy and forced her hair back into a straight flowing position. She didn’t want to appear threatening, yet she positioned herself in front of the Antithesis. Up close it looked impossibly big and brutish, almost primitive in nature. \n“Mankind needs your help, forefather. A threat looms upon us”, her voice sang in tunes both cute and alluring, a power no human had ever resisted. The Antithesis made a weird noise like a child choking on breath. The sounds continued and Iri-As-Inie witnessed with horror that the Antithesis was shaking. Was it ill? Could it actually get ill? \n“Oh, dear. This again”, it sang although it really couldn’t hold a melody “What is it this time? Are the Yorshians back?” \n“What are Yorshians?”, Iri-As-Inie nearly bit her tongue the second the words came out. The first rule of society clearly demanded to never question the Antithesis, yet she had done so on instincts. The Antithesis truly was a corruptive force. \n“So it’s not the Yorshians? Give me a moment, might have been the wrong millennia. The whole Emperor Riciman Deal has happened right?”, the Antithesis furrowed it’s head. Iri-As-Inie felt an ugly stir in her left stomach and recoiled in disgust at the sight of skin overlapping on its own. \n“Riciman?”, her melody crumbled and once she noticed, she was too out of rhythm to continue speaking. \n“Ah, doesn’t matter. So I once again ask thee, and I ask thee thrice and be done. Why have you come to me, young one?”, the Antithesis lifted its head and gazed at Iri-As-Inie. It had unnatural and sunken brown eyes that looked like dark pits. \n“We need your help to change the world. It is on a grim path”, her melody was sad and embraced the seven teachings of empathy, weaving them into an argument of the highest audial order. Iri-As-Inie felt really quite smug about the skill involved in doing that. The smugness was torn from her as she felt the sudden outburst of sonic energy rippling against her. She saw the shaking chest of the Antithesis but it was too late to react. The noise lifted her clean off her feet and send her flying. It was an endless barrage of yelping grunts. She struggled to maintain her consciousness as the onslaught suddenly ended without warning. She bumped onto the floor and fought for her breath. \n“I’m sorry, I did not mean to hurt you with my laughter, little one. I sometimes do forget that we humans have become terribly incapable of dealing with sound”, the Antithesis crawled over towards Iri-As-Inie and held out one of its massive hands. She was the biggest of her tribe but if the Antithesis felt like, it could probably fit her entire head in that one hand. \n“But maybe it can serve a purpose. I do not belong here, young one. My whisper brings you pain and my laughter could kill you. You and I, we are both humans, yet we are also not”, the dissonance in the voice of the Antithesis scratched over her ears but oddly enough, it helped ease the pain a bit. Iri-As-Inie ignored the hand and got back up on her feet. She took a deep breath, ignoring the unthinkable sounds that made. \n“But a human you are and as a human, it’s your duty to help us change the world”, this time around she had woven a strong accord of uplifting notes and recursions, a loop of rhythm paired with a subtle string of melodic sighs after every third word. Her magnum opus was met with a long and awkward moment of silence that was suddenly broken by what sounded like resignation, despite the unmelodic and skillless presentation the Antithesis brought upon its words, \"Use your weapon to stab me.” \nIri-As-Inie felt irritation, her quiet hum becoming an audible mess. She bit her lips in response and concentrated more on maintaining her audial composure. The Antithesis seemed serious and so she produced the blade of dissonance, it roared with a steady and primal loop of sounds. An angry creature pacing around its prey in the old days, must have sounded like the blade of dissonance. She flipped it into her hand and still feeling quite beaten up from earlier, she jammed the blade into the Antithesis with a sudden urge of satisfaction. Or rather she would have, it simply bounced off. \n“It didn’t work. Of course it wouldn’t, you’re immortal” \n“Next, cut a strand of my hair” \nIri-As-Inie felt irritated but proceeded to reach for one of the hairstrands. It wasn’t silky smooth like hers, it rather felt like heavy cables. Her blade touched the strand and for a moment it seemed to give in, then her Blade died with an unpleasant and painful stutter. She looked up at the Antithesis. \n“How did you do that?”, she asked. \n“I’m immortal but I’m so much more than that. Do you know why you call me the Antithesis?” \nIri-As-Inie lowered her broken blade and just stood there, staring at the ancient human in front of her. \n“Because you defied the great enlightenment and denounced the audial turn” \n“Yes but I didn’t do so by choice. Humans exist as beings in a flow of constant chaos. They’re a proud species that is dabbling with the river and tries to guide the chaos towards order. Yet, there’s one thing that has driven humankind since the first day”, the Antithesis lowered its head and paused for a few seconds. Iri-As-Inie heard the steady rhythm of the Antithesis heart, a slow pondering stomp that could lull less resistant ones into sleep. \n“Change, young one. The desire to change. I’m the Antithesis to change. Humankind may wander the stars once more, proud beings that we are. We might unite Galaxies, dragging stars across the void and separate empires we do not like the noses of. Well, we might pay for that arrogance as well. We already have”, it leaned back. \n“But no matter how far we’ve come, I’ll always be there. Unchanged. Waiting. An accursed symbol that every change to society that has come, will end. That every change made so far, has already ended”, the Antithesis somehow looked sad as it gazed back upon Iri-As-Inie “I’ve seen it happen you know? If it is change you want, you must not ask that which can’t become change.” \n“But we can change! Look at how different we’ve become since you were born, Antithesis! Is that not change? Have we not become great beings?”, Iri-As-Inie swelled her chest with pride. Her people had come a long way indeed. She hummed a positively sparkling tune, dancing the note ladder with happiness. \n“Have you now?” \n“Yes!”, she answered with determination. \n“Then you don’t quite understand how little you have changed”, the Antithesis destroyed her rhythm with what sounded like a building crumbling into ruins “Gosh young one, I just cleared my throat. Either way, we may look quite a bit different, yes. But it's remarkable how little you've changed after all.” \nThe Antithesis got up and paced a few steps, Iri-As-Inie understood enough of dramatic rhythm theory to understand the purpose of the pause. She braced for what was to come, readying arguments and composing a quick but powerful melody for her rebuttal. \n“In your deepest and darkest hour, you reach for the darkness within you. When you’re desperate for survival and the world appears to end, you reach for violence, you grasp for conflict. You kill your next to survice”, the Antithesis folded both arms around its chest “When you’re at that point, you don’t just come for me and my help, you\", it strongly emphasized the next word \"become me. The symbol of unchange, the everlasting reminder of just how primitive and brutal we still are underneath all that genetic makeup. No matter how lofty we claim our ideals, we're still the ugly brute from millenia ago and in times of need, we remember it all too well. This is why I’m the Antithesis.” \nThe Rhytm Iri-As-Inie had prepared faltered away, it was simply pushed away like something insignificant. The words had touched her, disturbed her greatly. Hadn’t she felt joy at stabbing the Antithesis? \n“Will you help us?”, she finally asked, a tune so ugly and without music that it was painful to imagine yet oddly comforting to speak. \n“Of course I will, young one. Let us reset progress once more, maybe this time things will change.” \n“It definitely will.” \n“Yes young one, I’m sure of it.” \n\n\n", "*Six years after immortality*\n\nEveryone laughs at me when I walk down the corridor. I'm at least half a foot shorter than everyone else in my year, and I still have the face of an eight year old. I'm beyond flat-chested and I've never even developed an interest in boys. Or girls either, mind you. I've just not changed much since primary school.\n\nRecently they've started making jokes about how I just keep coming to the wrong classes, and I'm meant to be going to nursery. To be honest, responding by sticking my tongue out at them wasn't the best move. I just kinda struggle to keep up with everyone else when it comes to social norms. It's Maths now, so once we've all walked in I slump down by myself at a desk at the back. It's the only double desk inhabited by one, because even Kate started ignoring me when she got a boyfriend.\n\n\"Now, I expect you've all done your homework,\" begins Ms Jameson, our maths teacher. She's nice, but rarely understands when people are upset. I generally just try not to attract her attention, so this week I'd actually done the homework. \"But before I collect that in I've got to introduce our newest class member.\"\n\nOh, this is new. I's forgotten someone was coming to the school, so I looked up a bit from my jotter to watch as they come in the door. They're quite short, still taller than me though, and they have long blonde hair. I quite like how they look, because they don't have any malevolence in their eyes as far as I can tell. WE learnt that word in English a few weeks ago, and I've decided it's a good word to describe certain things.\n\n\"Class, this is Holly. Holly, this is Maths 2,\" introduces Ms Jameson. There's some awkward waving, including a little wave from me. I'm kind of excited that this new person might not laugh at me, but the part of me that's learning how to grow up just says I'm being naive. She looks around for a place to sit, and notices the one beside me. Or did she just realise it was the only seat available?\n\nShe put her pink bag under the desk, my one is just dark grey, and took out her maths stuff. I felt nervous.\n\n\"Hey,\" she whispered. \"What's your name?\"\n\nI looked her in the eye and almost cried to myself in happiness. \"Ellie,\" I replied, a childish grin spreading across my face.\n\n---------------------------------------------------------\n\n*Ten years after immortality*\n\n\"Oh come on Ellie,\" insists Holly, beckoning me to come into the nightclub. \"They can't say you can't come in, you have ID!\"\n\nHolly's right, but I'm not sure whether my fear is of not being let in because I look eight. I just don't know if nightclubs are my thing.\n\n\"Alright,\" I surrender. There's not really any point arguing, I agreed to this earlier. Inside, lights are flashing, music playing and people dancing. Holly knows this is my first time at a club so she takes me around the edge of the mob gathered on the dance floor and to a small table. I look around for a bit, trying to acclimatise myself to the new atmosphere. The club is pretty big, with tables like the one I'm sitting at dotted around the walls. On one was in a bar and next to that, the DJ. He looks about twenty and has one headphone on.\n\nI notice that Holly's looking at me. She presumably just wants to guess if I like it, she's been coming here for a few months before her birthday because she already looks eighteen. No such luck for me, though.\n\n\"Do you like it?\" she asks. Her eyes are almost drilling into my face as she tries to discern my thoughts.\n\nI shrug. Unsure as to whether she saw the shrug, I say \"I dunno, but it's not like I want to run and hide.\"\n\nShe smiles and pulls me up onto the dance floor. I had hoped she wouldn't throw me in at the deep end, but here we go. I begin to get the hang of dancing to the beat, but make sure to stick close to Holly in case something happens. The night continues and we both drink, her drinking more than me because, unsurprisingly, I get drunk very quickly. She drinks a lot more than me though, and ends up drunker than I am.\n\nWe both stagger out of the nightclub a few hours later and make our way home.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n*Eighty years after immortality*\n\nI don't think Holly's going to make it. Her heart started playing up a few months ago and yesterday I drove her to the hospital after she collapsed to the ground in our house. She moved in with me after her husband died and she started having health problems, so I turned the spare room of my cottage into a bedroom. I had enough money to look after us both, having realised that my habit of never-aging went beyond just looking really young, and becoming a minor celebrity. I've even written a book.\n\nI hold tightly onto her hand, not wanting her to slip away from me. I realised a few decades ago this would happen when I survived a car crash, despite both cars being charred wrecks by the end. It seems I just can't die, but Holly can. Her breathing is quieter now. The doctors put her on whatever meds they could but she's not woken up yet, and I don't think she will.\n\nAt least it's during her sleep.\n\n------------------------------------------------\n\n*One hundred thousand years after immortality*\n\nYou know, they all left a few dozen millenia ago. Mucked something up with the planet and wiped out pretty much every living thing over the course of five weeks. About ten percent of people on Earth got some way out, whether by smuggling themselves onto cargo ships or by the refugee ships sent by Mars and the Moon.\n\nAnd then I was left alone. I watched as even the cockroaches shriveled up in their little shells. I watched as fewer and fewer clouds made their way across the sky. I watched as I slowly slumped onto a rock, not moving for far too long.\n\nBut now I notice a brilliant flash of light in the sky, accompanied by a roaring that fills the entire valley. A small speck descends and becomes larger and larger, and I run over to it with the childish hope that's stayed with me all these years. The ship lands not too far off, and when I reach it I see real life people wandering about in whatever futuristic space suits they use nowadays. They all stop as they notice me running to them.\n\nOnce aboard their ship I notice they're all pretty weird, and very tall, but at least I'm home again. I snuggle into a small bed they made with a teddy something they gave me. I guess the teddy bears went extinct, too." ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 12, 25, 121 ]

[ "1417363126", "1417366796", "1417409869", "1417404737", "1417409483", "1417357420", "1417361418", "1417356556", "1417342501", "1417339516", "1417364371", "1417341846" ]

[ "~~\"It's like opening a dictionary after singing this song.\"~~\n\n~~\"Because none of this is ironic, ... it figures.\"~~\n\n\"Why are these lines crossed out?\" demanded Alanis.\n\n\"You know, we can't use these lines, we don't want to alienate our fans. That is a bitch move\" as the suit smiled smugly.\n\n\"But the song is non-nonsensical. None of those situations are actually ironic\" replied Alanis. \"Do you even know what ironic means?\"\n\n*\"No, I just was the editor of the New York Times for 4 years before this job. Please tell me what ironic means.\"*\n\n\"Well, irony is actually very similar to sarca...., very clever suit. Give me my money and I'll be on my way. This time in USD, not that *Canadian currency*.\"\n", "A traffic jam when you wanted grape.\n\nA no chewing gum sign, on your Nicorette break.\n\nIt's a black fly in your white fly soufflé\n\nIt's a death row pardon for a life inmate.\n", "Look Alanis you're an easy listening artist. You can't go around spouting lyrics like. \n\"It's like protecting someones freedom by stealing all their rights\". \n\n\nSo just because I play an acoustic guitar I have to write dumb songs. \n\n\nYup your fans just want some background noise that sounds deep. Thats what they get from you. If they want politics they'll listen to green day\n\n\nSo I guess im not allowed \"It's like poisoning a killer because they poisoned someone too\"\n\n\nNO!\n\n\nOk fine i'll just make up some shit about spoons then.", "The executive cleared his throat.\n\n\"It's like your record company refusing to let you use a verse. It's like being aware of the irony of that, and not even caring.\"\n\nHe gingerly placed the notebook on the table, and sighed. \n\n\"Yeah, we're not gonna allow you to use those.\"\n\nAlanis's hand shot up.\n\n\"Don't even start, Alanis\"" ]

[ 2, 2, 2, 7 ]

[ "1417406504", "1417407034", "1417413096", "1417390707" ]

[ "Love is..\nOne day in class the teacher asked all of us to write an essay about what we think love really is. Most of the people around me were pessimistic, dismissing love as nothing more than an idea. But I knew things to be different. You see just a few months before, I met a man that would change my life forever.\nIt all started when I was in the library studying for my Lit exam. I was just sitting at a small wooden table struggling to keep focused as I drudged though all of my notes.\nThen, out of the corner of my eye I noticed someone begin to pull the chair out from the other side of the table.\n\"Mind if I sit here?\"\n\"Uh, sure go ahead.\" I mumbled awkwardly.\nI was immediately taken in by the way that this guy presented himself. There was something unique about him that you don't see with most guys. He wasn't particularly well dressed or anything. I guess you could say it was the atmosphere surrounding him. Being the shy girl that I am, I just hung my head down and went back to studying in order to avoid any further embarassment. \nI couldn't help but notice though that the guy was staring at me.\nThen out of no where he started to try and talk to me.\n\"What're you studying?\"\n\"Uh.. Literature..,\" I stumbled. I could feel my anxiety raising to the max.\n\"Let's go outside\"\n\"What?\" I was taken aback by his sudden proposal.\n\"It's too nice a day outside to sit inside and waste it.\"\nNow, normally I'm not the one to follow someone blindly, but I had this strange gut feeling that I should go with him so I responded hesitantly, \"Uh..ok.\"\nWe packed up our stuff and headed outside.\nThe sun was shining and the air was just at the right tempurate. \n We began to walk down the sidewalk and head towards the campus park.\nFrom the moment we began to talk, I could myself letting go. It was as if all the burdens I had been carrying were exhausted from me. I became enraptured by his smile and entangled in his words as they ever so gracefully captured my heart.\nFrom that point on, we back the best of friends. Days, quickly turned to weeks which quickly turned to months.\nThen,yesterday as were laying down on my bed and starring each other in the eyes, he said the words every girl wants to here, \"I love you.\" Though I've heard those words many times with my exes, this time there was something different about them. He said it with a certain level of sincerity that drew me in. I didn't hesitate to assure him that I felt the same.\nSo, now here I am. Trying to answer one of the greatest philosophical questions of all time. I can't my answer is at all correct or meaningful but to me,\nLove is...\nInescapable. It's with us during both times of strength, and at times of weakness, a guardian of the heart and mind.\nLove is...\nImmeasurable. Knowing no bounds, love stretches across the imagination, letting us put aside our worries and fears, and letting us focus on what matters the most .\nLove is...\nIrreplacable. There is no feeling, no emotion that defines the human spirit better. No matter what mess we find ourselves in, love is there to help us stand strong.\nBut most of all, there is one word that perfectly describes what the this crazy idea we call love is.\nAbove all love is...\nHome.\n\n\n", "Hurrying steps carrying a desperate search, checking a map \"The park has to be close.\"\n\n*It was*\n\n\"I've always been in control\" so I would know if this was love. It couldn't be.\n\n*It was*\n\nWiping off sweaty palms before holding hands I'm minutes from what might be the happiest moment of my life.\n\n*It was*\n\nThis couldn't be our luck, that can't be right!\n\n*It was*\n\nEnraged I cried \"Anything can be fought!\" I refuse to believe in the word terminal.\n\n*It was*\n\nFrail hand in mine, \"Do you think this is the end?\" I hear.\n\n*It was*\n\nMy life may never be complete again but I am content because...\n\n*It was*" ]

[ 1, 19 ]

[ "1417502671", "1417471363" ]

[ "He moves so slow, so slow through this maze. We’ve been running around this arena for hours now, or is it merely minutes? What is time when someone is unconscious anyways? \n \nThe maze is made of concrete walls, unpainted and unkempt. Moss grows over many parts of the walls and stretches across the top between the sides of the corridors. I keep catching glimpses of his dark, slender frame through the cracks in the wall. He’s never more than fifty yards from me, I can feel him close. From the strong stench he gives off, how could I not know where he is?\n\nAlas, I am tired of this game now, tired of this running; I no longer feel the need for this to continue. There are dark shadows in the corners of this walled maze, perhaps he will not see me if I hide in one as he passes. The thuds of his feet get louder as he approaches my location. Stand very still, I think to myself, not a peep, nor shall a single breath give me away. The footfalls slow as he nears my hiding corner, until his novel stench is nearly overwhelming. \nI am lucky! As the dark dressed figure creeps around the corner, his back is too me! He does not see the concentration in my eyes or the tension in my arms. The cumulative moment is here, and he knows not where I am. \n\nA small smile crosses my face as I bring the scythe down upon this one’s back, instantly reaping this soul from this plane to mine. How fun these games are, so much more exciting than the chess games I play with the dying souls. I never used to be able find unconsciousness souls before, till very recently, when these souls started smelling. Smelling like those human chemicals they think so highly of, I believe they call them anesthetics. *Sniff…* Ohhhh, another has come to play….\n", "Im running for my life and he's gaining on me. I know the second he grabs me its all over. I slow down to quick jog and can hear the heart rate monitor blaring along with the chaos of scrambling nurses and my panicked family. When he gets closer to me I realize I'm literally closer to dying. These intervals of alternating sprinting go on for 45 minutes and I cant take it anymore. Im slowing down. \n\nI pick up my pace to a sprint again when my mothers face becomes plastered on my mind. I picture her gripping my hand and suddenly the look of concern on her face becomes one of terror. Out of thin air the grim reaper appears and is holding a gun to her head, only she doesn't notice. The terror and sheer look of panic on her face is staring at my anesthetized body when she suddenly feints. \n\nI look to my left and now my mom is beside me and together we're running for our lives. As soon as I notice her, we both smile and time slows down. She has bright, green eyes and a worn face that tells you exactly how hard it was raising me by herself. Since the day she picked me up after school in the 2nd grade with a chicken mcnugget happy meal, I never saw my dad again. Ten years of working full-time, raising me alone, and tending to my grandparents took its toll on her. Even though she was in poor health, since I was diagnosed with cancer she sucked it up and stayed positive. She would always put on a smile but you could tell from her wrinkled eyes and forehead, she was laboring through life. Time starts speeding up again and I watch her fade back and dissolve in the Reaper's grips. \n\nI wake up immediately and see my mom lying limp on the ice-cold tile. Everyone is rushing to her and I barely able to make out a nurse starting CPR. My tumor operation was a success, but it came with a price. \n\n", "I feel myself slipping from consciousness. Yep, there it is, the dark vignetting so popularly depicted for people passing out. I guess it’s accurate. And… here I go. \n\nWait. Am I still awake? I feel awake, though I can’t really move anything or see anything or feel anything, but I can still think. That’s certainly unusual.\n\nI see something out of the corner of my eye, strange as that is, in a place without discernible dimensions. I can’t really turn to look so instead I act as if this is all some sort of lucid dream and imagine a simple room. Something a little more physical than this infinite blackness. Yes, there it is, it’s coming now. I guess that’s exactly what this is, some sort of lucid dream. Perhaps I’m dead or dying and on my way to some form of afterlife.\n\nI turn now, trying to find that which was in the corner of my eye and I find nothing. As my head turns back there is a black-robed figure in front of me. I feel chilled, my usual cool façade broken easily under the literally empty, void-like gaze from under the hood. I know now that I must run or I will face my maker, whether or not I believe in him.\n" ]

[ 2, 2, 5 ]

[ "1417489405", "1417501824", "1417486196" ]

[ "The twin-charged, nitro-methanol injected V-10 was bellowing its literally ear-shattering, 2200 horsepower howl, while the oversized tires worked with feet of suspension travel to soak up the bumps and dips of the badlands terrain. Tyrannosaurus Trux is a hardcore monster truck, and I love every minute I'm behind the wheel. It's got tow hooks on the front of it, coming off of frame extensions made to look like those funny little arms that a T-Rex has. The paint job is a metallic green scale pattern, with the hood and front fenders shaped like the open jaws and teeth of the same beast. It might be the most fantastic vehicle I've ever seen, and I've seen M1A1 main battle tanks in person. We've won a fair number of the events we've entered, and word is that Bigfoot's driver is getting pissed that so many little kids are showing up wearing T-Trux shirts. Heh heh. \n\nI can see the dig site up ahead. We have an exciting find. We'd recieved a report of some huge ribs sticking out of the edge of a wash. Turns out it was an Apatosaur's rib cage. The skeleton looks pretty complete, and even has some material that looks to be fossilized soft tissue. What makes it even more exciting is that as we got down around the creatures hips, we found an adult Allosaur underneath. It looks like the Allosaur was attempting to bring down the much larger Apatosaur, but as they fought they were caught in a mudslide or something, and it buried them both alive. That's exciting stuff, and we're hoping that the soft tissues we're finding on the skeletons will answer some questions about the nature of these monsters, particularly if we can get some mitochondrial evidence about their metabolisms and whether they really were warm-blooded like it's been hypothesized. \n\nAs much as I'd like to be down there with my brush and chisel, I've got other business to take care of. The ring is set up a few hundred yards from the dig site. I can see the huge lights that will wash out the darkness of the wilderness night during my bout. My wrestling alter-ego, Dr. Bones, will be hosting a battle royale tonight, the one time only Badlands Bash. I flex slightly, feeling the bulge of muscles under my button-up shirt. I'm gonna pitch somebody into a cactus or I'm not Dr. Bones. \n\nI knew that was gonna be a good wish. I just knew it. ", "Great. I run the Brown neurological institute in Dublin Ireland. I was an odd kid who thought brains were cool. ", "The first question everyone asks is why are you in here. To everyone else you may lie but not to anybody here. You always tell the truth. When they ask me I tell them it’s complicated and somebody else will reply that it’s not. The truth is that we’re both right, but I’ll never tell them the whole truth. I can’t.\n\nEight years ago I was on pilgrimage to Jerusalem. There is a network of individuals who will help pilgrims like me, and I was low on supplies so I decided to seek one out. Leaving the main roads, I followed what I thought was a dirt road that would lead me to this Samaritan’s house. The road became narrower and rougher as I went and before long darkness was setting in. I was faced with a difficult decision, press on through the dark and follow the rough path to the house that must be nearby or sleep in the open on the side of the road and try again in the morning. It wouldn’t have been the first time that I had slept outside on my trip, but rarely so deep in the wilderness and Turkey’s nights were becoming ever colder. I chose to push on, the temptation of a warm house in which to sleep beat out a night on the cold, hard ground.\n\nThe moon was bright overhead and the stars plentiful and seemed to make navigation easy, but I never did find the house I was looking for. If I had ever been on the right path I must have lost it without knowing in the dark. For what must have been several hours I stumbled on fruitlessly, before I decided to give up and hunker down for the night. The path had been following the edge a ravine and I recalled that there had been a cave maybe a couple hundred yards back so, in another stunning display of genius that night, I decided to double back to it and sleep there for a while.\n\nIt must have been midday when I finally woke up. I got up and gathered my things and tried to determine whether I should continue to follow the trail in hope of finding that house, or retrace it and move on. That is when I realized that there was no path. I was utterly baffled, there had certainly been some path last night perhaps not the right path but a path nonetheless, yet now there was nothing not even my own footprints to show the way. I looked at the cave thinking maybe I had come out on the wrong end of some small tunnel but it was most assuredly a cave. A deep, dark, long cavern.\n\nA metal pile gleamed in the corner and upon closer examination I found that they were golden coins that looked hundreds of years old. I noticed several more piles each one a little deeper than the last. I took out my cellphone and checked it, not a lot of battery left but I could explore a little way. With the flash on I pressed further into the abyss following the trail of bread crumbs. It wasn’t long before the narrow passage expanded into a large, rock chamber. In the middle was a huge pile of golden urns, vases, coins, bars, jewels and more, stacked twice as high as me, and topped with a large chest. Curiosity, understandably, got the better of me and I tried to climb up to the chest to peek inside. My first attempt saw me get halfway there before the treasures under my feet shifted and I slid back down. On my second effort I nearly reached the top when I grabbed hold of a lamp. The thing shook and rumbled back and forth beneath my grasp before it leapt free of my hand of its own accord. I lost my balance and went tumbling back down the incline painfully. When I finally got up there was a semi-transparent man standing over me.\n\n“Mortal, you have freed me from my prison within which I have been trapped for a thousand years. In return I will grant you a single wish,” it spoke.\n\nCaught slightly off guard I exclaimed the first thought I had. “Bullshit.”\n\nIn an instant a pile of crap appeared next to me surpassing the pile of treasure that had already filled the room. The smell was overwhelming and my eyes watered. “That wasn’t what I meant,” I coughed.\n“I am familiar with your common expletive. People have often desired displays of my power so I chose to provide you with one. Now you know. Choose wisely.”\n\nThe pile disappeared as suddenly as it had arrived blessedly taking the smell with it. My senses cleared I took a few moments to think. I had never wanted much from life. I didn’t want a billion dollars or fancy things, world peace or equality, and I didn’t want every beautiful woman to fall in love with me. I always wanted a simple life, a nice but modest house, a beautiful and caring wife, a good career that I enjoyed, the sort of things that I had dreamed of as a kid. All the other kids dreamed of going to space or being firefighters, but me, I only ever wanted the sort of life that you saw on old sitcoms. That’s what I asked the genie for, the life that I wanted when I was a kid.\n\nAnd that’s precisely what I got. I got what I wanted when I was young. The future I had envisioned. See, the problem is that I had forgotten exactly what I wanted as a kid. I saw the dream of escaping the hell that my life was, but he saw the dream of breaking free of the hell my life was.\n\nMy father was a drunk and a deadbeat. He had a dead end job that he hated and to escape that he would go drinking. Then he would come home and beat me or my sister, whichever he saw first. When she got a little older I think he started to abuse her in other ways but I never asked. And mom? She let him beat us because she blamed us for taking away the good man he was and ruining their lives. Hell, sometimes she beat us too. She’s the one who stabbed us with lit cigarettes and poured boiling water on us. Of course that’s when she wasn’t so high on one drug or another that she couldn’t stand.\n\nThe genie went back into my childhood and found a dream that had burned much brighter than the one I had thought of. Where instead of growing old and escaping my family and making a better life for myself, I took matters into my own hands and built a better life on the bones of the old one. In this I took the shotgun that my father kept for hunting, threatening us, and occasionally contemplating suicide and turned it on my parents. I killed them both.\n\nI remember both lives. The one in which my parents lived and abused us until me and my sister ran away, and the one where I killed my parents and I was arrested. With every day my old life fades and becomes harder to remember. My sister still comes to visit me from time to time. Ironically she ended up with the life I thought I was getting but I don’t mind. At least she’s happy. She says that if I get parole in two years I can stay with her until I get on my feet, but I think I might finish that pilgrimage first.\n", "So I'm an astronaut now, I guess. Which sucks because I'm stuck in the international space station with zero knowledge of how to do my job.\n\nSee, I should have bundled my wish with the instructions on how to be an astronaut, but I wasn't thinking ahead. I was all hopped up on that new Star Wars trailer. \n\nShitty use of a wish. I mean, you gotta wish for money, right? Unlimited money, unlimited opportunities to go to space the right way. And unlimited everything else. I really dropped the ball. \n\nEDIT: Typo", "Journal, I need to tell someone what happened. I can't believe it, if I hadn't lived it I wouldn't believe it in the first place. If someone finds this, this is a true story make no doubt about it. It all started when I met a genie who would grant me a single wish. A GENIE! They do exist! I felt like Aladdin except without the moral compass.\n\n\nHere's the first day:\n\n\n\"Your one wish is to be the adult you always hoped to be. Is this your true desire?\"\n\n\nI respond simply. \"Yes.\"\n\n\n\"Thy will, be done.\"\n\n\nI awoke to the sound of an alarm. What time is it? I look around this unfamiliar place and wonder what exactly I got into last night. I thought I'd drank too much or someone slipped me an extra in my drink. I hadn't been blackout drunk in a very long time.\n\n\nWhat I woke up to was every boys dream. It was like a harem, I felt like the biggest pimp on earth. Not 1, not 2, not 3, 4. Four beautiful women lay sprawled across my bed in various positions. My bed, it was massive! Like the kinds you see drug lords having in those classic movies! Oh this was crazy. My room, if you could call it that, it was big enough to fit my old apartment in! \n\n\nThis was the defining moment of my new life. I can't help but look back and remember this day.\n\n\nIt took me 3 full days to figure out exactly what it was I did for a living. You'll never believe it, nothing. I did nothing but what I wanted to do! Turns out I became a writer and immediately hit it off. Before waking up in this life I'd written 4 different fantasy series each of which made me millions. The money just sits in banks now, collecting that sweet American interest. I was in love. The people loved me, I was happy with myself, and I was never wanting for anything.\n\n\nI married, had some kids who turned out to be great, and life was better than I thought. When they invented three dimensional worlds they chose to use the worlds I created for my books as the basis for the first themes. This was a very proud day for me, I was the first person to step foot in another world! The kid in me was so happy, I was happy, life was perfect. I was getting to an older age, almost 75 before I started feeling something wasn't right.\n\n\nHere's what the genie doesn't tell you, as soon as your wish comes true, you start a timer. This timer reflects how much longer your wish stays active for, and mine ran out.\n\n\nSo here I sit in the nightstand, twenty-five again. I've lived a whole glorious life and now I have to return to the one I left. Still, something doesn't feel right.\n\n\nThere's someone else in the house, someone that looks like me, but isn't. It just feels right that he's here though. Nobody ever talks to me anymore though, they only talk to him, which is why I decided to make you in the first place, Journal. He even has the same name as me! Maybe we're brothers, I can't remember. Sometimes he looks at me and laughs. Usually he ignores me too though. These wristbands are on too tight too, I just wish I could get them off. Maybe then they'll all talk to me again. Maybe then I'll be able to move again.\n\n\nUntil tomorrow journal,\n\n-Eric Fontella", "\"How young?\" The genie asked, perplexed by my decision.\n\n\"Six,\" I reply confidently, feeling it was the appropriate mixture of childhood fantasy and an understanding of reality.\n\n\"And you're sure about this one? You don't want to just be your own ideal?\"\n\n\"My ideal has since been corrupted. We're doing this.\"\n\nHe sighed heavily, \"Alright, your wish your rules, but someone's gonna need to find the lamp again before this gets fixed up. I'm not going to be around, you know, to help you adjust.\"\n\nAs sparks shot from his fingertips and lights seemed to envelope the world, I refused to close my eyes. They burned with the brightness of it, yes, but I would not shut my eyes to the brilliance of my childhood dreams coming true. What would I be? A fireman? A professional videogamer? A superhero? So many things I had wanted so long ago. My eyes were watering now, and tears streamed down my face. Finally, when I could take no more, I squeezed them shut.\n\nThere was a great rush of air, and all was silent. Things were different. I could feel it in my bones, from my nose to my tail.\n\nI flicked open one set of eyelids, and then the other, and cast my gaze around my city. People stared at me in awe and alarm. Cell phones were slowly raised, photos and videos taken. Someone started screaming, and the crowd began to move outward, flowing away from me in terror. Police officers ran toward me or away at random, some deciding that their pay-grade just was not high enough to deal with the present situation. I ignored the officers and their guns as I spread my great wings and left the surface. The winds from my escape shattered windows and floored those who had chosen to remain. As I soared higher, I let you a great gout of flame ahead of me.\n\nI was a motherfucking dragon, and that's the way it was meant to be." ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 4, 13, 13 ]

[ "1417535733", "1417541375", "1417544019", "1417502050", "1417501130", "1417504020" ]

[ "I stood at the gates, my horsemen behind me and an army of demons further back. Finally the doors opened, fresh air poured into Hell, then a dead jaguar, then another dead jaguar, and about twelve more. \"The hell?!\"\n\nA deep rumble responded from Hell itself \"Yo?\".\n\n\"What? No, just an expression.\"\n\n\"Alright. Bye.\"\n\nA dark-skinned man in black Mayan dress came in through the doors.\n\n\"Sorry man, you guys were late so, you know, jaguars falling from the sky.\"\n\n\"We were like five minutes late! We ran into some traffic in the Pit of Despair.\"\n\n\"Don't know what to tell you, the Powers that Be are kind of particular about this sort of thing.\"\n\n\"Fuck you. C'mon guys, back to turning the spits.\"\n\n\"Awwwwww.\"", "\"What.\" Jim stated flatly. As the Antichrist, he had expected to *bring* plagues, not find them. Shit, he had an *employee* who *specialized* in that sort of thing.\n\nRegardless, there they were: zombies, shambling around, generally looking disheveled. \n\n\"*Pestilence!*\" He shrieked. \"Did you start without me?!\" \n\nPestilence, a sickly, meek looking woman shuffled up to him, her gaze cast downward. \"No. Honest.\" She mumbled. \n\n\"Where's Jesus?! Where are the angels?!\" He shouted. War was getting antsy. \n\n\"Is there a Taco Bell anywhere? I'm super hungry, dude.\" Famine said, his long, greasy hair falling around his unshaven face. \n\n\"Just keep smoking your joint, Famine.\" Jim said. \"Ah, jeez. What on earth am I gonna do for the next seven years?\" \n\n\"Well, we could kill 'em!\" Conquest said brightly. Jim rolled his eyes. \n\nTypical Conquest.", "\"What do you mean I need to eat this \"Sol thing\"? I'm supposed to have a nice battle with some angels, see some whores riding 7 horned beast, claim the remaining souls of Earth. Ya'know, real apocalyptic stuff.\"\n\nThe large flaming (in multiple ways: both literally on fire, and having a crush on a icy looking thing AC had seen earlier) giantesque form stared at him with stupid small eyes, \"I dunno whatta doo. I shuld jest bring ya to Looki.\"\n\n\"No, I demand to see the lead Satanist. Not that you're doing a bad job around here, I love what you've done with the guy both speared into and hanging from a tree, but I think this leads a bit more... organization.\"\n\n I wanna write more but am at school right now, if anyone wants more AC in Nagnarok, tell me.", "WHAT, SON OF MIDGARD? Rumbled the impossibly tall man, shaped like a crudely chiseled iceberg, wind whipping around him ferociously.\n\n\n“I said!,” Snarled the handsome black-haired man, blue eyes flaring and teeth (a shade too white and a touch too sharp) showing, “What the HELL are you doing here?”\n\nGODDESS HEL HAS FALLEN, uttered the colossus, in a voice implacable as continents.\n\nThe dark-haired man clawed the air in frustration, and lashed a vicious kick at a snowdrift. “No! No, you overgrown icicle! HELL! Aiche! Eee! Double-god-damned-HOCKEY-STICKS HELL!” \n\n…WHAT IS ‘HOCKEY’?\n\n“Arrgh!” \n\n“A game!” Piped up a small, simpering imp, who a moment ago had been hidden in the man’s sleeve, and now squeezed his tiny, catlike face out from under the cuff. Apparently oblivious to his master’s incredibly foul mood, it blithered on, “A violence game played with sticks and hard things and blades on the feet! On ice!“ It attempted to cackle, but, smashed as it was, it came out more like a phlegmy chuckle.\n\nThe giant, astride his glacier, nodded. A FINE GAME.\n\nThe man violently wrested the imp from his coat, and tossed it, still cackling, over the side of the icy cliff. The glacier was grinding its way south at a disconcerting speed…\n\nHe whirled back to face the seemingly unconcerned giant. “Hell! Abbadon! The Abyss! Perdition! The Pit! Why, in the name of the The First Unclean, are you *crushing goddamn England * with your *goddamn* **trained avalanche!?**”\n\nIT IS THE END. RAGNAROK. JORMUGAND’R HAS SLIPPED ITS BONDS. FENRIR MOVES TO EAT THE SUN. THE BOAT OF DEAD MEN’S NAILS HAS CRESTED THE LAST WAVE. WE HAVE FELLED THE SPAWN OF ODIN. SO, NOW ENDS MIDGARD.\n\n“Well, that is completely unac-f-cking-ceptable!”\n\n…YOUR APPROVAL IS SOMEWHAT…SURPUFLUOUS. Responded the giant, clearly a bit chagrined by the flat denial of the stranger at his pronouncement of the end-times. Normally, there was more wailing.\n\n“Like hell it is! How am I supposed to topple the thrones of men when I can’t even *see* them anymore? How am I supposed to lead a one-world government when the UN is under half a mile of f-cking *ice*?! Do you have any idea how hard it’s going to be to build a bonfire, let alone a fire *pit*?. And *don’t get me started* on omens-“\n\nI DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING ABOU-\n\n“-because, HOW THE HELL,“ he roared, undissuaded “are the rivers supposed to run red with blood, when they’re *frozen solid!?* How am I supposed to scare the ravens from the Tower of London when you *ground them*, and *it*, to a paste *fifteen minutes ago?!* They’re still there! Sure, flatter, and a whole lot *deader*, but they’re still there! This is a disaster!”\n\n…THAT IS THE IDEA. He was now deeply uncomfortable. No one had told him Ragnarok would involve this much… talking.\n\n“I demand to see your supervisor!”\n\nYOU…WHAT?\n\n“Your boss! Loogie, or Luigi or whoever he is! Get that red-haired little asshole over here right *now!*”\n\nSuddenly, the sun overhead, shining clearly here so far above the freezing stormclouds, blossomed into eight separate glowing orbs, and an austere-looking Indian man, holding a glowing sword, and riding a flying white horse, descended from the heavens, and alighted next to them. \n\n“Hello? “he began a bit bashfully, in a thick Calcutta accent, “ I am here to end the evils of *Kali yuga*, and usher in a new age of *satya yuga*, but I think there is some confusion? I do not remember anything about ice?”\n\nThe dark-haired man stared, then rubbed the bridge of his nose and groaned aloud. “*Oh my *God*.” \n\n“Avatar, actually.” The newcomer said in a peaked voice.\n\nHe stopped rubbing, and sighed. “No *kidding.*”\n\n He tool on an indulgent expression, closed his eyes, and began to lecture in a satisfied tone.“No, I am not kidding. I am the last incarnation of Vishnu, the redeemer, the-“ \n\nThe rest was cut off by a snowball to the face. He staggered, then recovered, and shot him a condemning look.\n\n“…You put ice in that!”\n\n“Did not! You didn’t see me!”\n\nThe giant *had* seen him, and he definitely did. This was getting out of hand. \n\n\n… I WILL SEND FOR LOKI.\n\n“Is Loki the one responsible for this, then?” A black hole opened midair, a rent torn into what looked like the night sky, and a man with skin tanned so brown it was almost black, covered in beads, colorful feathers, and a jaguar-pelt cloak, stepped out of it. He had two black eyes, a broken nose, and was covered from head to toe with bruises and cuts. He also had roughly a dozen arrows sticking from his back, but didn’t seem to notice them. He tossed his cracked-in –half stone-headed axe to the ground, where it started to smolder faintly.\n\nHe looked up, upon feeling the three sets of eyes upon him. “Yes, hello” he said, in a voice like a Latin romance, “I am *Huitzilopochtili*, god of the Day and of war also. I regret to say the *Tzitzimitl* bone spirits of the stars and servants of my sister *Coyolxauhqui*, damn them, have at last triumphed over me, and are on their way here now. Any moment, my sun will extinguish, and in the coming darkness, they will devour mankind. …I do not remember anything about ice, however.”\n\nCurious gazes were directed to the heavens, where the eight suns were still slowly dancing in a circle. One of them winked out. The rest stayed, burning merrily.\n\n“Ah… *Well*. A bit anticlimactic, I suppose.” He muttered idly. “Whose suns are those?”\n\n“They are mine!” piped up the Indian man.\n\n“One too many, in my opinion, but very nice.”\n\nAn impossibly large wolf took that moment to emerge from behind the horizon, reach up, and devour another sun in a single gulp.\n\n“Much better. Six is a good number for suns.”\n\nThe black-haired man sat down heavily in the snow and held his face in his hands. “This is a nightmare. I’m having some kind of… of eschatological *nightmare*. I’m going to wake up, and I’ll be back in my home, and there will be the usual orgy waiting for me, and everything will be normal.”\n\n“Say, would any of you happen to have the disembodied heart of a warrior on you?” Asked the new arrival casually.\n\nWithout looking , the black-haired man reached into a pocket, and absently tossed him a sandwich-sized Ziploc with something red inside it.\n\nForlorn, his head fell into his lap.“This is the *worst day of my life.*”\n\nMINE, ALSO.\n\n“Shut up.”\n" ]

[ 2, 2, 4, 250 ]

[ "1417546670", "1417548815", "1417534504", "1417563265" ]

[ "*Sans Revolution* Without the successful rebellion of the colonies the world is a different place. The expansion of *The Empire* has gone unimpeded. Revolutions and rebellions across Europe and her colonies have faltered and failed. Here Parliament was cowed first and all but abolished. It stands as less than a shadow. Parliament acts as the public facade of public rule. The Lords & Commons gorge on the spoils of empire and further only their own self interests both at home and abroad.\n\nHis Majesty George III (25 October 1760 – 29 January 1820) met only with triumph and prosperity where King Henry and his contemporaries met with misfortune and sorrow. With the colonial rabble quashed his Highness was able to better focus on matters nearer at hand. Seeing weakness in his neigbour's rule, the commoners rioting and murdering their betters, his Majesty campaigned to fulfill the most earnest rights of his ancestors. To make his kingdom truly whole.\n\nThe effort required more than a generation. But the dream was realized by his son, George the IV. Now Britain's first and most ancient colony and its' surrounding lands now kneel before the throne. Brittany is British once more! France is now the third kingdom of Great Britain.\n\nOfficially slavery goes out of fashion in Europe and is abolished. Indentured servitude and many other forms of subjection, under different names, persist.\n\nIn the colonies much has been gained. The West has been conquered. A railroad connecting the East Coast to the West Coast now meets in a young settlement.\n\n*New Caledonia* Home to 5,000, now well over 25,000 with the rail workers and their followers. The Baron of Ulysses, Lord Grant-Stuart, Knight of the Order of the Thistle, smiles good naturedly as he shakes hand with his counterpart on the stage where the two rail lines will momentarily join. Railroad tycoon and adroit business man, Lord Grant-Stuart has accomplished his dream of more than a decade, unifying East with West.\nDuke Robert Lee, Captain-General of the Blue, Knight of the Order of the Garter, reaffirms his grip on Lord Grant-Stuart and raises their clasped hands to the people, press, and photographers of the assembled throngs of people.\n\nThe crowds roar with thunderous applause and cheers.\n\nOne young man stands and smiles and cheers along with the rest. The smile stops at his eyes. Such cold eyes. Such and anger and contempt held within them. And such potential could the eyes of Arthur W. P. Albert dream to behold.\n\nLiberty\n\n...And power.\n\nArthur Albert would do anything to achieve his goals. To meet the expectations. The hopes of his most favored instructor.\n\nThe old man of the Tower.\n\nThe storyteller.\n\n*Dumas*\n", "\"You've got to rein him in. It's too much. This isn't how war is meant to be *fought,* dammit! We're a civilized nation!\"\n\nGrant glared back at Lee, eyes hard. \"Your tactics won us the South, Lee. Honorably. Yet you've seen how the British hold. They are resolute. They are strong, and their resolve runs deep where the people support them. We must break that determination. We must tear them up from the roots,\" he growled, hands grasping as if tearing at weeds or choking a throat.\n\nRobert E. Lee spat, tobacco juice staining the tent wall. \"Damn you, Grant! If we make ourselves animals, we're no better than they are! How are we to govern a land turned to ash? How are we to make citizens of dead men and empty-eyed women and children?\"\n\nGrant practically snarled. \"You speak of animals? After Vicksburg? Do you recall how the men looked, staggering out after we broke the siege? Do you remember what the *damned redcoats* did to our men?\"\n\nLee shuddered with the memory. Vicksburg had been bad. Worse than bad. The men had walked out, bones sticking out against their skin. Eyes hollow, faces blackened with soot and smoke. In spite of the victory, it had been a dark day, as dark as when Stonewall was shot dead in Chancellorsville. He took a breath and met Grant's eye, fighting to keep his voice from shaking. \"I understand the motivation, but I do *not* approve of the tactics! He is destroying the life and livelihood of men who would be our citizens!\" he cried.\n\nGrant shook his head. \"I gave him an order. An order that will break the East. If he has taken it with gusto, I can only praise him. It was a simple order, and he has followed it to the letter. *Scorched earth was what I asked for, and it is what he has given us. Following his success, I believe we can take Boston within the month, and this damnable war might be at its end! Now, if you would speak against him further, at least let him speak for himself!\" Grant gestured to a guard, \"James, call in Sherman!\"\n\nThe man who strode into the tent wore his blues with pride, the smell of smoke clinging to him like cologne. \"Gentleman,\" William T. Sherman said, \"Washington burns.\"", "The young cavalry commander dug his spurs into Skylark. J.E.B. Stuart’s company was making slow going in the fresh snow, but that was no reason to not make it back to the camp before nightfall. After all, the General was counting on his and his company’s report on the movements of the enemy. A scout galloped back toward him.\n \n“Sir, the camp is just over the hill on yonder.” \n“Good work Corporal. Let’s see who’s here to greet us.”\n\nStuart guided Skylark into the camp straight to the General’s tent. A tired aid held open the flap to admit Stuart. \n\n“I see this early Philadelphia snow hasn't hindered your progress to much Commander.” \n\n“Well sir, y’all can’t help but move a bit faster so you stay warm, General.”\n\nUlysses S. Grant smiled, and waved over to the map lying on the table under the lanterns. “Why don’t you give me your dispositions? If they’re favorable, maybe I’ll be able to get Jeff Davis off my case in the 3rd Continental Congress. Lord knows he’s just eager for some Limey blood.”\n\nStuart laughed politely. “Honest Abe ain't able to keep him pinned up? Hardly seems like he’s running the place sometimes.”\n\nGrant shrugged. “It’s not even a legitimate government; it will be rough around the edges for a while yet.”\n\nStuart had already begun marking on the map. “The garrison from Baltimore is moving out, heading for Harrisburg. It seems that Sir Patrick Grant hasn't made up his mind whether he wants to come looking for a fight, or if he wants to strike west and conquer Pittsburgh.”\n\nGrant narrowed his eyes. “Sir Grant has had experience dealing with rebellions in India. He wants us to react to his movements, as opposed to the other way around, and has a good way of doing so too.”\n\nThe orderly ducked his head in. “Sir, General Jackson is here.” \n\n“Thank you Mr. Radcliffe, Send him in, we need his expertise.”\n\nJackson entered the tent. “I have received word from Sherman. He and Longstreet are making good progress in Texas. Unfortunately, McClellan seems to be doing a poor job in Virginia” Jackson said as he moved toward the table. “I hoped you haven’t started planning without me. The good Lord knows we need to work together, if for no reason than to keep Congress happy.”\n\nGrant sighed. “No, of course not. And I frankly am tired of discussing what Congress is up too. Let us instead look at what the British are up too.”\n\nJackson eyed the map. “He’s keeping his options open. What can we do to force his choice?” \n\n“We’ll have to make a nuisance of ourselves. Something to force him to ignore Pittsburgh, we need the iron.” Stuart stated.\n\n“Agreed” Grant said. “Gentlemen, what of this? We let Sir Grant march towards Harrisburg, but he should hear we are coming south to the west of him in order to liberate Baltimore while he’s away. He’ll head west then, since he can get either us or Pittsburgh that way. We just need to find a good spot to ambush the British from. “\n\nStuart pointed at a spot. “This town is ideal. It has several hills in order to give us the high ground. By the time the Limey’s hear about us, they’ll be north of us, and have to come from the low ground.”\n\nJackson nodded. “It is a good place. The only thing we have to worry about is that loyalist Robert E. Lee warning Sir Grant it’s a good spot for us.”\n\nUlysses S. Grant stood up. “It shouldn't matter; Lee likely won’t see these mountains as high enough to be a problem. As long as Stuart’s company can hound them in, Gettysburg will be a fine place to fight.”\n", "The quiet representative from Illinois had not spoken the entire day as delegates from the Northern territories and the Southern territories bickered at each other all day over whether the new Declaration should declare themselves to be a slaveholding nation, and strip the citizenship of the blacks. The Crown's decision to abolish the practice more than a decade ago rankled the Southern aristocracy even today as they were forced to live alongside their former property. The Northern state representatives instead wanted to focus on the taxes levied on shipping and industrialized goods: steel, textiles, etc. \n\n\"They're traitors!\" argued one gentleman from Louisiana. \"They would sell us out to the British in an instance, and take our women and our property!\"\n\nRepresentative Lincoln stood suddenly and ambled to the front of the room. His imposing height and muscular stature was enhanced by his tall hat, allowing him to tower over the rest of the legislators. He approached the podium and thrust a massive hand forward demanding the gavel. Shocked at his sudden, impudent interruption, the committee chairman handed it over without a fight. Lincoln stood and surveyed the crowd silently.\n\nLincoln opened his satchel and withdrew his writing instruments, then approached the delegates from Mississippi. A wealthy young politician named Alexander Stephens stood formally to greet him. Without a word, Lincoln emptied his pot of ink onto the man's head, shaking out every last drop. Inked dripped down Steven's face and marred his fine, expensive coat. \n\n\"And now,\" Lincoln said slowly. \"You are black as well.\" He spoke in barely a whisper. \"Does it matter? Is your desire to be free now quenched? Would you now happily abide under British rule?\"\n\nStevens could only sputter.\n\n\"All men desire to be free!\" Lincoln roared to the assembled crowd. \"Whether they be white or black, Northern or Southern.\" He returned to the podium as the crowd erupted in a flurry of argument. But his booming voice overcame theirs. \n\n\"What sort of man comes to this chamber and argues for his own liberty while asking to put his neighbor back into bondage?\" Lincoln raised his arms, pantomiming chains, turning to the Southern delegates. \"And what sort of man cares more about his purse than his freedoms?\" he suggested, glancing significantly at the Northerners. \"Our forefathers sought to bring forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that *all men* are created equal. It is for us the living to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they so nobly advanced. It is for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us that from the honored patriots we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion. That we here highly resolve that our fathers and grandfathers shall not have died in vain: that the nation they envisioned shall have a new birth of freedom and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall rise from the ashes like the phoenix of old!\"\n\nHe thumped his fists on the podium as he finished his speech, and the audience chamber erupted in applause. Even Alexander Stephens clapped, spattering ink across the table." ]

[ 2, 6, 10, 97 ]

[ "1417576564", "1417571183", "1417558776", "1417556819" ]

[ "\"Janet, please ... we have to keep walking. Nobody gives a shit about your dog.\"\n\n\"Fuck you Thomas.\"\n\nThe others stared at them coldly, as Janet cradled her 'poor baby' in her arms. \n\n\"Both of you, shut up. We need to keep moving.\" Sometimes Max felt like he was the only sane one in the group, constantly calming people down, breaking up arguments, standing in the way of a tensely bound fist aimed at somebody else. Today was day 57 ... 57 long days since the outbreak had decimated the city, and we hadn't yet found the Wi-Fi. The signal was slowly getting stronger, but everyone's patience was wearing thin. You can only put up with so much when you've eaten little more than 5 pieces of bread in 6 days.\n\nAs Janet scattered the last of the dust over her dog's corpse, the others began walking. The last cellphone in the group was on, battery at 32%, screen as dim as it could go. In the distance, they could all see a hospital, eerily quiet ... no ambulances blaring in and out anymore.\n\n\"We have to check it out guys. I know none of you want to. But we have to. Besides, they might have extra medical supplies in there, and fresh water.\" Max was their guide, and without him they would be lost.\n\nThey approached the hospital, Wi-Fi signal slowly getting stronger. Janet sobbed, \"Thank god, it's coming from inside.\" \n\n\"It's still too weak for me to do anything. Only three bars. We need five.\" Max reminded her sharply, \"and there's no guarantee we can access wherever it's coming from.\"\n\nThe halls of the hospital were empty. A TV blaring from one of the rooms was the only sound that could be heard. Max called out. \"Hello? Is anybody there??\" No response.\n\nFour bars. \n\nAs they approached the patient rooms, the sound of the TV got louder. They all paused as they reached the door that the sound was coming from. Beverly Hills 90210 was on. Great. Max's hand reached towards the door handle, and he exclaimed \"Five bars!\". But as he spoke those beautiful words, Janet was beginning her own sentence. \"Max.. Look at this. On the wall. This is Seacliff Hospital.. where the outbreak occurred in room fifteen\" As the rest of the group peered at big \"1 5\" on the door, Max's eyes grew wide. Patient zero. He was sick... but alive. Everyone else who came in contact with him had died.\n\nAnd the Wi-Fi was coming from his room. ", "There were only 5 of us left.\n\nWe were once a proud race, but when the Wi-Fi died, we found we needed internet to survive.\n\nWe did not know how to get food without yahoo answers, we had no dank memes to satisfy our cravings, and some of us didn't know how to breathe without the help of health forums.\n\nThere was hope though.\n\nThe tales of El McRardo, the land of free Wi-Fi.\n\nThe legends of the place marked by the golden arches was all that kept us going.\n\nAt last after years of walking we finally saw those golden beacons in the distance. Salvation.\n\nOur phones immediately get two bars and we finally find peace.\n\nWe walk up to the mysterious figure at the end of this strangely tiled place, was she the source of our salvation?\n\n\"Hi, how may I take your order,\" it spoke and we all choked up, what did we say to this strange creature.\n\nA phone rang and saved us from this trauma. I teared up when I saw it was Bobby, he was still alive. The only one of us brave enough to stay behind and monitor the place we called home.\n\n\"Hey, the internet is back on, get back here so we can continue the LAN party.\"\n\nWith a cheer all my group ran out the door but I stayed, perplexed by this strange creature.\n\nWithout knowing what to do I scratched my neckbeard, tipped my fedora and vanished into the night.\n\n", "The small towns were the only ones safe. The villages, the farming communities - they were spared. Seventy years ago it happened. All that crap about \"nuclear deterrence\" and \"mutually assured destruction\". Only the second one was right. Every major city in the world was destroyed by the blasts and the bigger ones that weren't were soon overrun and anarchic. Nobody lives there anymore. We all live in farms and small isolated neighborhoods. There haven't been any governments forming in our area yet but there's been word of something appearing in the northeast. \n\nAnyway, I found something this morning. I live with my grandparents on their farm, no mom or dad. I was with them when it happened and found my way back here several years ago. They had solar panels installed a few years before the Event and I was out exploring with an old Galaxy smartphone. I started going around and taking pictures of everything in the area a few months after I got here. I figure it will be good to know whats out there. Now it's just become relaxing and fun.\n\n I was exploring the old city nearby. There's an old hospital there, long since looted clean but I was inside and got Wi-Fi. I didn't even notice until I was about to leave and the phone dinged. \"28 new Photos have been backed up.\" I walked out. This is my world now, we're doing fine. Whatever is out there now, they don't need to know about us. \n\n// Just realized this isn't quite what the prompt intended. My fault\n " ]

[ 2, 2, 3 ]

[ "1417582824", "1417604574", "1417580658" ]

[ "After efficient intergalactic space travel had been discovered on Earth, the humans did what humans did best. They set out in their sleek ships, stocked with sleeping lasers and sleeping bodies, and set out into the void. They crashed onto the lands of other races, eradicating what they saw, and subjugating the rest. Humans seemed determined to become a virus, to grow their colonies on the most fertile soils, to spread to the distant reaches of the universe, and to plague every corner with their diseased ilk. To infinity and beyond.\n\nThe first species to be conquered were ... surprised, really. A race, so feeble, yet so ambitious! They had merely discovered space travel a few hundred years ago; what could they do? The leaders laughed. \"Look,\" they said. \"The humans have come.\" \n\nHow quickly they fell to their own hubris. Skies burned that day. Lands burned that day. Life burned that day. And no-one took notice to the plight of the species.\n\nIt was only after the hundredth pillaging that the alliances began to smell danger. Slowly, the statement made in jest became one made in fear. Civilizations waited, huddled near their radios, waiting every day in the hopes their leaders would never say the words. \"The humans have come.\" Some fell to the belief that their defenses were strong enough to overcome the firepower. Some fell waiting for their allies to save the day. Some took action against the incoming threat, and fell anyway. Over the course of thousands and thousands of years, the universe bled slowly, an internal wound that could not be staunched.\n\nNone of these things matter anymore. We are the last race. We have waited anxiously for many years. As a species, we hoped to make the most of whatever precious time we had left. And every day, we turned on our radios, and we listened, and we waited. \n\nToday we finished waiting. \n\nLook, it said. The humans have come. ", "I had watched them for a while... It was my place to keep watch for them. They were so weak, and fragile, it was our fear they would be wiped out before they had a chance to mature. Far before their time they were trying to reach out to us. Touching the great blackness with their chunks of fire and earth. We worried that if we did not remember them, we might miss them when they came. If some met them here first... The humans would no longer be with us at all. \n \nTheir bodies could not take it, the blackness... Their minds did not have the years to fix what was broken. Nor even could they see what was broken until it was too late. Many died for their foolishness. It was only their impossible lack of knowledge that let them gain ground however. If they had known perhaps they would not have ever tried. They were odd that way. \nThe way they went about things was so strange... Pressing forward, without really knowing anything, looking at the mistakes, and then trying again... Often with an approach that looked much the same. But over time... Little changes made it whole. It only worked because they never stopped breeding. Or maybe it was because they never stopped breeding that they learned that way... I was not to know. \n \n\"Look,\" It said, \"the humans have come.\" \n \nAnd so they had... Though their work was not perfect, though they wouldn't last more than a century that way. They came, they chose a planet and they took it for their own, they would begin living on it. It was a motion, and one they should not yet have taken... They were not nearly ready for the declaration they had made. But we watched them. So they would live, at least what life they had. " ]

[ 3, 8 ]

[ "1417594745", "1417592149" ]

[ "Late night drabble: \"Happiness fades\" \n\nThis is another restless night. I remembered to eat after ten hours of being awake. I have still to drink anything other than coffee. My hippie sister would probably tell me all this is killing my chakras and blocking my third eye or whatever bullshit she reads about on the pot filled, hallucinogenic fuck-fests that she gives fancy names to, like “enlightenment session”, or “energy channeling”. Whatever. God, I fucking hate her. Bitch. Not that there is a God. And if he exists, I hate that fucking prick too. \n As you may have noticed, I am a rather bitter person, the kind TV series screenwriters turn into the comic relief-with-heartfelt-semi dramatic moments-character of your usual sitcom, or your unusual, slightly offbeat, documentary-style office comedy. Original, right? Everyone's so very original these days. It's what they tell us ever since we leave the uterus, after all; “You're so special, Timmy!”; “Jennifer could go places, such a clever, extraordinary child”; “Why, it's so bad we no longer have the monarchy established, you will just have to settle for president, Freddie baby!”\n That's us; the oh so clever, oh so pretty, oh so dazzling, extraordinary, unique, bombastic generation of TV character archetypes, copying and paraphrasing and plagiarising our lifestyle from the screens and the billboards and the cartons of artificial milk that poisons us since birth -but wait! It's organic!-, everyone pretending like we're the best thing to ever come out of the universe's asshole, while in truth, we're nothing else but a pitiful bunch of misled, overcoddled and bubble-surrounded nobodies. \n\nThe sad truth, that everyone is terrified of. We. Are. Nobodies. \n\nNothing.\n\nA big zero in the grand abyss of the Cosmos. A zero that copies, devours, and destroys.\n\nThe next puff of smoke gets in my eyes. I tear up and blink and cough, trying to clear my vision. My phone vibrates. I know it's Max, because Max is the only person who bothers with me at this point. At least for now. He'll turn away soon enough. \n\n“7.30 ok?”\n\nThe last Supper. The tearful goodbye. More TV archetypes. More copying. \n\n I give him a confirmation and he responds with a smiley face, the wide smile kind of smiley face. Typical Max. His teeth flash through my mind. White, glistening teeth, framed by those thin lips and carefully supervised scruff that is so fashionable these days. And I travel behind the pearly teeth, to the mouth that worshipped me, the throat which gave life to his trademark chuckle, the tongue that made me moan. \n The night I met Max I had gotten drunk off my ass, kicked him in the groin and thrown up in his car. He cleaned me up, made sure I was alright and tucked me in, no sleazy moves. Guess that foreshadowed how it was going to be with us, me being the obnoxious, uncontrollable brat and him always cleaning after the mess that is my existence. Lucky I tired him out fast, I guess.\n\nI should've bitten his tongue bloody the first time he kissed me. Scared him away. Save him the trouble, and the pity, and the waste of time that our few months were. \n\nSee, bitterness again. \n\nBut see, that's me. I am bitter, disappointed, jaded and very, very pissed off.\n\nI used to be a happy person. I used to be whole. Or at least,that's what I told myself. It used to be so easy. Easy-peasy.\n\nBut now everything is fading. I am nowhere, nothing. I suppose fading into nothingness is also easy-peasy.\n\n(Just a late night thing, curious to see what reaction it might cause, if any~)\n", "First thing to go is the color. The techs called it a grey-out in the Air Force. From the edges on inwards, the color just fades out from the world around you. Then the light fades out. Tunnel vision.\n\nToo much thrust for too long and you g-LOC. Pass out.\n\nKeep going and you're dead. With each minute of high-g, your chances of stroking out increase. Maybe you had a weak spot in an artery. Something that could've been an aneurysm in thirty or forty years. Maybe it would have been fine.\n\nThen you're under thrust, your blood weighs ten, twelve times what it should. You've got a cocktail of drugs pumping through you, keeping your blood pressure up so your veins don't collapse. Pop. Like a balloon, and you bleed out inside your skin.\n\nOr the meds don't work. A major blood vessel collapses. Maybe you lose a leg. Maybe you end up with a medical discharge from the airforce. \n\nMaybe you were once a hotshot pilot, flying a brand new experimental fast-attack bird. Maybe you saw the solar system, walked through the snows of Europa. Climbed Olympus Mons. \n\nMaybe you were once a god among men. Maybe you're an alcoholic cripple lusting after the good old days.\n\nAlex understood, that son of a bitch. He needed a pilot. I needed to be spaceborne.\n\n*\"What the fuck is that, Alex?*\n\nI stood in my best friend's workshop, an abandoned warehouse he'd co-opted. In front of me sat the ugliest hunk of metal I'd ever seen.\n\n*\"She's a beauty, ain't she? Assembled her myself. Mostly legitimate salvage. Some I had to beg, borrow, and steal.\"*\n\n*\"Sure. What the fuck is it?\"*\n\n*\"Our ticket to high society, caviar and champagne. This, my friend is freedom.\"*\n\nIt looked like tetanus.\n\n*\"Uh huh. But literally, what is it?\"*\n\nHe rolled his eyes at me, and muttered something about Philistines.\n\n*\"Jet sled. Racing pinnace. She's mostly fuel tanks and engines. I salvaged the engines from an old military wreck around L4. She's damn fast, with the range to take us around the system twice without stopping. I call her 'Look to Windward'. And we're going to race her.\"*\n\nFourteen g's pulled my face into a new shape. My internal organs shifted. I held the academy record on the centrifuge. My claim to fame was high-g maneuvers. But fourteen was way too much. I could feel myself fading.\n\n*\"Race her? Race her where?\"*\n\n*\"Some rich pricks are holding a gala. Full of yachts and pleasure craft. Entry fee is my life savings. Grand prize is enough for you and I to retire young on Ganymede. My baby is fast as anything they'll put out. I can navigate the course. I just need a pilot for the close-in work. That's where you come in. I fly us through the void. You do the fancy maneuvering through the checkpoints. We split the prize fifty-fifty.\"*\n\nI was so close. On the plotter, I could see the other ships falling behind. The finish line was up ahead, a circle less than a hundred meters in diameter.\n\n*\"No. No fucking way am I getting in that knocked together hunk of junk and flying it to Saturn. Never again.\"*\n\nThe bastard grinned as I walked away from him. He knew I'd be back.\n\nThat was a month and a half ago. I'd come back.\n\nNow, Alex was dead in a g-couch next to me, and I was rocketing toward the finish line.\n\nAlex died fixing a fuel crossfeed under heavy maneuvering thrust in an artificial cluster in the Belt. The gala organizers dragged thousands of belt rocks into a cluster, and dropped the checkpoint at the heart. I'd never seen anyone stand up under five g before, much less play mechanic. But the bastard did it and collapsed.\n\nIt was another two hours before I could let off thrust to get to him. He was already dead.\n\n*Look to Windward* was closing on the last boat. I made one last course correction, placing her on a curve that would take her right through the center of the ring. Even at fourteen g's, I wasn't closing fast enough.\n\nBut Alex was a hell of an engineer, and it was well past time to show these bastards what he could do.\n\nWith a tap of my fingers, I opened the throttle the rest of the way. The little ship surged forward, oversized military engines providing more thrust than anything manned should ever be able to do. A needle pricked my jugular as my suit pushed more drugs into me, fighting to keep me conscious.\n\nWith finish line a few thousand kilometers away, and my ship closing on the last of its competition, I faded to black.", "It all fades.\n\nThe sun sinks into the horizon\n\nThe river erodes the shore\n\nThe wind chips away mountains\n\nIn time, it all fades.\n\nThe ancient tree crumbles to loam\n\nThe wise man's bones to dust\n\nThe red shirt pales to pink in the wash\n\nIn time, it all fades.\n\nYou need\n\nColorfast^(tm) Laundry Detergent\n\nKeep your colors bright\n\nAnd your whites white\n\nLive forever.\n\nColorfast^(tm)" ]

[ 2, 4, 11 ]

[ "1417656025", "1417637876", "1417634107" ]

[ "\"His heart's not beating, somebody get help!\" A young woman kneeled over an elderly man. He had suddenly collapsed in the middle of the diner; tragic, as he seemed perfectly fine when he first got here.\n\n\"Christ, not again. Hold on, I got this.\" He fumbled around his person for something. Which pocket was it in? His coat? His jacket? Pants? Man, if it weren't so could out today he wouldn't have had to layer up and this wouldn't be an issue.\n\nAh, there we go. His iPod and earbuds. Not much juice in it left, but he wouldn't need it for long anyway. He double-checked the L and R on the little bits of plastic, then shoved them into his ears.\n\nNow, where's that song...oh, yes, here we go.\n\n> Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk I'm a woman's man, no time to talk\n\n> Music loud and women warm, I've been kicked around since I was born\n\n> Now it's all right, it's okay, I'll live to see another day\n\n> We can try to understand the New York Times' effect on man...\n\n\"Gah! Get these faggots out of my ear.\" Life suddenly returned to the old man, and he wasn't happy with the voices of three high-pitched British men doing it in his ear. He ripped the cords out of his ears and climbed up back into his booth. Good riddance.\n\nThe entire diner broke out in applause and cheer, and the young man received his meal on the house. To this day, hospitals play Bee Gees albums to help patients recover.", "\"The beauty of Dies Irae, one man singing it is lethal as it is.\" The Director leaned forward, a sparkle in his eye. Many called that sparkle madness, but I... I call it **genius**. \"But an entire Symphonic Regiment... Brilliant in it's destructive capabilities Fräulein!\"\n\n\n\n\"Of course Herr Director!\" Assistant Director Claus responded. \"They will not be able to stand against our abilities! Too bad we cannot yet use the Wunderwaffe against the dissedents!\"\n\n\n\n\"I wouldn't be so sure Miss Claus. They have been becoming more powerful.\" I said, adjusting my bass regalia cap. \"That last fortress actually put up something approaching a fight.\"\n\n\n\n\"Ooh, your bassy tones are music to mien ears my little sweet Niedlich. I shall rejoice in finally seeing experimental weapon ***NO.9*** in action.\" She spun around, giddy, while the frills on the skirt of her Marcher's uniform swayed in the wind.\n\n\n\n\"You would wish to see our ultimate weapon used so soon?\" I said questioningly, finally getting my Marcher's uniform neatly settled upon my body.\n\n\n\n\"You wouldn't, Herr Kiëdler?\" She needled, giggling.\n\n\n\n\"*Shoosh* you two. Cease your prattling.\" The Director snapped out his baton, smiling. That horrific, amazing glint in his eye. \"The time is right. I shall begin.\"\n\n\n\nHe tapped the baton three times upon the podium and raised his hands. And so it began.\n\n\n\n*Dies iræ, dies illa*\n*Solvet sæclum in favilla,*\n*Teste David cum Sibylla.*\n\n\n\nThe streams of magic whipped their way through the air, arching towards the resistance. The choir forming the main component of the magical energy while the rest of the orchestra supported their efforts, binding in the air to form a beautiful hue of colors. It arched in the sky, bucking against the control of the musicians below it.\n\n\n\n*Quantus tremor est futurus,*\n*Quando Judex est venturus,*\n*Cuncta stricte discussurus!*\n\n\n\n\"Ah, look at the beauty!\" Claus laughed shrilly. \"I commend the Choral section especially, they are absolutely outdoing themselves today!\" \n\n\n\nI grunted in agreement.\n\n\n\n\"And look, nothing. They don't even come out to fight.\" Claus laughed and brought out her own baton. \"Release the attack!\" \n\n\n\n*Tuba mirum spargens sonum,*\n*Per sepulchra regionum,*\n*Coget omnes ante thronum.*\n\n\n\nWaving her baton towards the enemy, the raw energy flew through the air. Like a lightning bolt, it arched through the air, flying up and down. Different lights jockeyed for position as the energy thickened and flew towards it's target.\n\n\n\n*Mors stupebit et natura,*\n*Cum resurget creatura,*\n*Judicanti responsura.*\n\n\n\n\"Nothing.\" Claus said while directing the energy towards the base, her lip pouty, the lone red flag fluttering in the wind. \"How boring.\"\n\n\n\n\"**STEP UP YO GAME! NIGGA!**\"\n\n\n\nGonna continue this later. Got work to do right now.", "\nThe colors flashing, bass bumping, filling hearts with energy and life. \n\nThe guitar strings vibrate, fast and high, laying down the fires so hot and bright. \n\nAs the lips move fast rattling the mic, forcing the other into submission, with words as dark as night. \n\nWith a choir so soft and smooth bringing everyone into the mood, making hearts grow bright as that velvet melody carries them into the night. \n\nAs the men swing about the stage, dancing around like it all the rage, making old hearts feel young, taking the old to a place they belong.\n\nPlaying that that piano light as a feather moving to a crescendo that make things feel dire, quickly descending you into a realm of hell fire, or carrying you higher and higher." ]

[ 3, 4, 8 ]

[ "1417647498", "1417647257", "1417645681" ]

[ "Oh. Nothing. Great. Now I needed that. I *really* needed that. Thank you, Dr. Papadopoulos. So what do I do now? I should call for help. HELP! Anyone? Ha, what should I expect from those people who wanted to neutralize me? Right? I mean, it was obvious they all did their best to make me fall. Me, the greatest man ever. They had to use the worst methods to bring me down! That, I take much pride of! Now, please, let me revel in my shining honor for a moment. \n\n... \n\nYou still there? I hope so. I don't believe you're gone, so I'm going to keep talking. Oh, *talking*... More like thinking aloud, am I right? I can't talk anymore. I don't even feel anything. They could be beating my body to death and I'd be none the wiser. Not like I felt anything more before this botch of an operation, though. Anyway, let's see the bright side: nobody will ever disturb me again! That's great! I can do all sorts of things that require concentration! Like... Like what exactly? Let me think... \n\n... \n\nOh, I know! I shall relieve my boredom by thinking a book! A book about what? Hmm... A man is believed to be crazy, but in fact he's sane and everyone wants to get him but he escapes and lives a free life! Perfect. Let's start. \"In a dark corridor, he lied on an hospital bed, tied by leather belts. No man had felt more fear than him at this moment, and when the dark and deformed figure of a doctor, holding instruments of torture, appeared on the doorway, he thought his heart was going to give up. And actually, he willed for it to stop at once.\" Haha! Nice! I got the dark and mysterious feeling right on point! Now I only need to... \n\n... \n\nWait, what words did I use, exactly? I think it started like that: \"In a dark corridor, he was tied on a bed in an hospital.\" Hmm, no, that wasn't it. Maybe... \"In a dark corridor, a bed tied an hospital with leathery people.\" Is that a better version of my story? It is! People are tying hospitals! With leather, coming from their body! Maybe their body are leather... My body is leather! This is why I'm locked in here, alone in the dark, because I can't see anything! I'm leather. LEATHER! *LEATHER LEATHER LEATHER LEATHER LEATHER LEATHER LEATHER* \n\n**LEATHER** \n\nPLEASE someone HELP me FREE me FROM this HELL^HELL^HELL^HELL **HELL** \n\nFREE ME \n\nKILL \n\nME \n\n. \n.. \n... \n\n\nOh wow, I think I just had some kind of crisis. Sorry, people. I didn't want to scare you. So, where was I? Oh, right. \"In a dark corridor...\"", "They said they are disappointed with me. I try! I can do things, I can read! I go dancing and am polite and I do everything they say! Father still doesn't like me. He doesn't want me to meet with people anymore. I remember the last time that happened. I wrote about it in my diary: \n\n\"Went to luncheon in the ballroom in the White House. James Roosevelt took us in to see his father, President Roosevelt. He said, 'It's about time you came. How can I put my arm around all of you? Which is the oldest? You are all so big.'\"\n\nFather says I'm 'moody'. Thats not my fault! He doesn't think that I'm 'proper' enough. I'm proper! But when he always yells at me and says that I'm stupid I don't like it! I sit in my room and I cry, because so matter how hard I try, no matter how hard I work, he never lets me go out when I want to, he never lets me do what *I* want! I get to appear like a pretty showpiece everywhere, but nobody ever listens to me. I wrote about it in my diary:\n\n\"Have a fitting at 10:15 Elizabeth Arden. Appointment dress fitting again. Home for lunch. Royal tournament in the afternoon.\"\n\nI feel like every day fewer and fewer people care about me, care about who I am or what I think. Father doesn't listen to me anymore, god knows. He thinks I'm a lost cause. He doesn't know what it feels like to be me! Every day I do the same things. Every day I see the same people, the people that my father thinks it is okay for me to be around. I hate it! Here's a day in my diary:\n\n\"Up too late for breakfast. Had it on deck. Played Ping-Pong with Ralph's sister, also with another man. Had lunch at 1:15. Walked with Peggy. also went to horse races with her, and bet and won a dollar and a half. Went to the English Movie at five. Had dinner at 8:45. Went to the lounge with Miss Cahill and Eunice and retired early.\"\n\nI live a useless life. But Father said that would change. He said that once I visit Mr. Freeman, I would be better. I don't like doctors but he said that it was really important. I knew that I didn't have a choice.\n\nI don't know what happened. He put me to sleep and now I am alone. He said that it was experimental. He came up to us in his van with his surgeon friend and I remember father saying that it was worth the risk.\n\nWhat was I? A disobedient pawn? Was I so strange that he couldn't bear to see me anymore? Is this what he asked Mr. Freeman to do to me?\n\nThere is nobody here. Nobody listens to me, not even Peggy. \n\nI am alone.\n\nNothing I do matters anymore. \n\nHe abandoned me.\n\nEveryone did." ]

[ 3, 3 ]

[ "1417689795", "1417699352" ]

[ "Apparently causing one little tiny apocalypse is enough to get one fired in that town, and not just fired, but black listed. I mean c'mon...they were asking for it, they wanted it. They made movies and tv shows and wrote book after book about it and so I was gracious enough to give it to them and I'm the bad guy? It's like Christmas every day for the surviving fleshies!\n\nLook! hey You up there take a look down here! You see that? That's some happy go lucky fleshie running for his life in his very own real life video game! Real life makes for such better graphics! These guys are eating it up (no pun intended, heh). \n\nCheck it out Lucy, these dudes would trade their soul for a twinkie, see, you see how much easier I've made your job? What is with you guys? \n\nOkay okay, so maybe it was slightly above my pay grade to end the world this way but the guys on the job were taking way too long. Let's face it, zombies made a lot of people happy, global warming just bums everyone out. I did it for the fleshies, You love the fleshies, they wanted this Man! \n\nAh! Get off of me! I don't have any internal organs for you to munch on you rotting fleshie. Sheesh. Shoulda made them a little smarter..stupid dead fleshies. Oh yeah, hey You! You up there! I made them stupid and slow! I did that so your lovely little fleshies could kill em off easily enough! I didn't know fleshies are just as stupid and slow alive as they are dead. It's not my fault they panic and act a fool! It's not my fault! I gave them what they wanted! \n\nFine, pft, who needs that job, or any job for that matter. I'll just hang out here for awhile. I don't care. At least the fleshies are happy..well kind of. \n\nOh knock it off fleshie, He is not gonna save you, quit your whining and just take the bite like a man. Jeez, fleshies are such ungreatful babies. \n", "**LIMBO**\n\n*Author's Foreword: Felt like something short as I wrote something with a similar theme recently. Just playing around with an idea. Wrote this first draft at work in an email then copy pasted - apologies for any errors or formatting.*\n\n___________________________\n\nThey cast me down from the brilliant white above, clipped my wings and called me demon. My bloody feathers rained down like roses mixed with snow.\n\nThey raised me up from the blazing black below, healed my wounds and called me angel. My goodness blinded their evil hearts like the sun.\n\nBut I am no angel. I am no demon.\n\nI am too wicked for the heavens, and too righteous for the hells. I sin because I was made to, but I do good because I strive to. I am banished to the in-between, stuck in a limbo called World.\n\nI am the fallen angel. The righteous demon.\n\nMy name is Man.\n", "\"That's what happens when you drink, shit starts pourin out of yo mouth and then your ass\". She always knew how to make me feel better. When you are immortal. You start seeing time in a completely opposite way to most humans, You try to waste it as much as possible, every dull, repetitive second. long visits to the toilet that leave purple marks on your legs. Heck, I picked up Spanish just so I could get into telenovelas. But the best way to fight time is to drink, drink often and drink a lot.\n\n\nI can hardly remember my previous worlds, fractions, glued fraction from my endless incarnations. lights, faces, boiling cauldrons.\n\n\nThat's what I miss the most about heaven and hell, forgetting, being constantly reborn is the only way to keep sane. People always think that heaven and hell are dichotomous. Rubbish, the human mind is malleable. if it only knows pain its entire life or only knows pleasure is insignificant. It would would always settle for pretty much the same ratio of happiness vs misery. In that regard heaven and hell or indistinguishable. \n\n\nSo I drink, I drink often and I drink a lot. And I talk, I talk often and I talk a lot. to anyone who would listen, as if saying the words would make them leave my mind, those persistent cancerous words, once they enter your ear, crawl up your brain and just lodge there, squatting in your memories.\n\n\nOh well, for what god calls a punishment and what satan calls a joke, fuck'em both. I got Sally to knock on my toilet door, and when she's dead, I'd find another Sally. And when all Sallys are gone, I'd just sit here and vomit my stories towards the encroaching sun. Maybe then I could come back and forget. \n\n\n" ]

[ 1, 5, 8 ]

[ "1417719483", "1417736187", "1417712594" ]

[ "*", "\"I am telling you, I AM NOT INSANE! This was all a huge misunderstanding!\" Just then James heard outraged shouting. He took a few steps and peeked around the corner. An old man wearing a dress was hanging from the ceiling, smacking at anyone who tried to get him down with a broomstick. Sparks flew out of one of his ears and frost and snowflakes rained from the broomstick with each strike. One of the security guards spoke into his radio. \"Patient 0076 is trying to fly through the ceiling again, bring the ladder and a pair of MagDamp cuffs.\" James sat down again. \"I think I need to stay here longer than a couple of years\"", "To most people, he was Supervisor Dale Taylor. That’s what it said on his name badge, just above the left breast pocket. To the patients – or inmates, as they called themselves - he was High Inquisitor. \n\nIt felt good to be High Inquisitor, or Supervisor, or whatever you wanted to call him. In the end they equaled the same thing. He was the man with the keys. The judge. He decided if you got a big room to yourself, with a window and pleasant view of snow-draped meadows, and he also decided if you never saw sunlight again for the remainder of your life. He was lenient and forgiving as inquisitors went, favoring the carrot over the stick. Each morning he sat in his office with a gigantic mug, filled to the brim with smoking coffee, and the surveyed his little kingdom. \n\nOn the last morning before his trip to the OWL. conference, he found an envelope sitting on his immaculate desk. He frowned and looked at it. He normally waited until after his first cup of coffee before going about the day’s work. It featured the OWL insignia. He cracked it open. It contained a patient’s medical records and criminal history. And a brief letter, from the department, apologizing for the last-minute notice. A new patient, Elizabeth Lee, arriving at approximately nine o’clock. He put the letter aside and reexamined the records. \n\nIf there was any such thing as a benevolent form of the Gestapo or the NKVD, than it was OWL. When wizards, gypsys, or warlocks brought undue attention to themselves, or otherwise found themselves in the criminal justice system of the North Atlantic Alliance, than OWL, quietly and discreetly, channeled the criminals to facilities such as this one. The only people who would have protested, called for action, were fellow wizard-folk, and by doing so only drew the authorities to them for immediate, swift, silent prosecution. \n\nPsychotic Breaks, Delusions of Grandeur, Schizo-type behavior translated into the illicit practice of magic in these types of hospitals. Dangerous because of its potential threat to national security, profane because of its denial of the state religion. Most people did not know what OWL did exactly among the population, but if they did, they would have approved.\n\nBut Elizabeth Lee had no such indicators on her record. She did have one drunk driving offense, six years ago, several weeks after graduation from University. It did include a diagnosis for depression and an anxiety disorder. \n\nHe read them and reread them again as his coffee grew cold. He decided to dial his connect at the department. \n\n“Hello,” he said. “This is Taylor. I’m calling about a recent transfer. Is Cooper in?”\n\n“This is Cooper.”\n\n“Jesus, what are you? sick? I didn’t recognize your voice. You sound terrible.”\n\n“I better not be. I’m supposed to give some kind of a spiel at the conference. You will be there, won’t you?”\n\n“Not like I have a choice.”\n\n“Who’s in charge while you’re away?”\n\n“Julien.”\n\n“Anyways, what’s this about a transfer.”\n\n“Did you know anything about this? I’ve got a record for someone named Elizabeth Lee. She doesn’t meet the criteria as far as I can tell. There’s no offence on her record. Also, I only received the record this morning. She’s due here in less than an hour. That’s never happened before. I was trying to see what the angle is on this thing.”\n\n“Well,” Cooper said, clearing his throat, “I do happen to know about this particular case, as a matter of fact, and –“ Cooper paused for a second, as if he were making sure no one was around “ – listen, Taylor, they’re taking a special interest in this one. I don’t know specifics, per say, but ignore the fact that she doesn’t fit the typical profile… Listen, I hate to leave you in the dark, and I don’t know much myself, but apparently, this woman was creating quite a bit of noise about the whole OWL system of prosecution. Special prosecutions. According my superior, this is a dangerous form of psychopathy, with widespread potential consequences.”\n\n“Cooper, that’s about the most vague and meaningless thing I’ve ever heard.”\n\n“Listen, I’d recommend just dropping it and processing the patient. I’m just saying that they’ve taken a keen interest and making sure she ends up at your particular facility for an extended stay. Forget what her record says. This comes from on high.”\n\nThey hung up. He left his coffee untouched. He examined the stubble on his face in the metallic surface of the filing cabinet. He couldn’t decide if Cooper was trying to say that she was a wizard or an open wizard sympathizer, bringing unwanted attention to the issue. He had heard once before that the former director of OWL, a sadist son of a bitch by the name of Walter Sandoval, had done his best to bring back old school, Spanish-inquisition-style torture methods to help uncover networks of wizards in the civilian population. He had later stepped down under rumors that he had numerous personal enemies and competitors arrested as wizards, stowed away until they went genuinely insane. He had no doubt that occasional abuses of power happened in the upper echelons of OWL, but they had remained rumors and whispers until this file appeared on his desk.\n\nA police cruiser dropped Elizabeth Lee off at 9:04, as her stay was court ordered. Dale Taylor signed the necessary documents and lead her in. She was incredibly young looking. Gaunt, as if she hadn’t eaten more than a handful of saltines in the last week. She smelled bad, but based on what he knew he guessed that she had remained in custody until this rushed transfer. Not much in the way of showers or food other than chips from the vending machine. She said nothing.\n\n“The other patients have already had breakfast, but I’m sure we can find something for you,” he said. She said maintained silence, looking at the ground.\n\n“Why don’t we take a tour of the place, so you know where everything is?”\n\nHe lead her through the long hallways. Orderlies escorted the most elderly around. Others dished out prescribed sedatives – the best weapons against energy-consuming, concentration-demanding magic. Men with no light in their eyes and blank expressions watched the TV in the recreation room. Others read books in the corner, mainly harmless, idea-free young adult novels. He pointed things out, introduced her to the other supervisors. \n\n“They’re going to leave me in her forever, aren’t they?” Her first words.\n\n“Who is? And no, there’s plenty of people who recover and leave. This is a hospital, remember? Some people do have court orders and stay here for quite a while, especially the elderly patients, but that’s really not that common,” he lied. \n\n“My Dad. He’s going to make sure I’m one of the ones who stays forever.”\n\n“Who’s your Dad?”\n\n“Terry Stokes.”\n\nA chill traveled up his spine. Terry Stokes was the assistant director, one of the old guard. A name most civilians would know.\n\n“But your last name is Lee.”\n\n“I changed it so he wouldn’t find me. Trust me, I’m never getting out of here.”\n\n“Why would he want to do that?”\n\n“Because I stole money from him, and I threatened to black mail him, and I told him I know all the horrible shit he does. The horrible shit that you do.” Her voice contained no emotion, as if she had accepted this fate long ago.\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nDale Taylor arrived for the conference. He found Cooper and they got seats together in the auditorium. They used these quarterly conferences to address issues, discuss new drugs and anti-wizard strategies. This one came earlier than normal for some reason, which made everyone anxious. People suspected that meant some type of major reform, a big sweeping announcement or change. The last time his happened was when Walter Sandoval stepped down. \n\nTerry Stokes stepped in front of the mircrophone, and five hundred or so people looked on.\n\n“Inquisitors, for a long time the wizard problem has been growing, to the point where we are no longer able to control it. We are reinstating our emergency action plan in order to cleanse the wizards from our streets. We have full congressional authority on this matter. We have many dangerous men in our facilities, terrorists. We thought we could separate them from the population, even rehabilitate them. This is no longer an option. The problem has grown rampant. The time has come for punishment and retribution.”\n\nEDIT: Fixed some grammar.\n", "\"Just scratch the wall,\" Ethelred muttered, \"Just a stray line. Or maybe a drop of blood or two.\"\n\nI ignored him and stared at the chessboard in front of me. I suspected Ethelred was cheating. The knight whinnied once. \n\n\"Do it or I turn you into an armadillo!\" he warned. Instead of answering directly I held up my left arm and let the cuff of my sleeve drop down enough to show the black bracelet with the intricate runes carved into it. I was warded, same as him. It was an empty threat. The chessboard, however, was still fair game. \n\n\"Come on!\" he said, \"You can actually touch the wards. If they ever figure out who you are then we both lose our chance!\"\n\nEthelred doesn't get it. He's been here since the days when Georgia was still a penal colony for Jolly Old England. To him this is a prison. He still doesn't understand that I had myself committed. I don't want out. True, I didn't quite expect this. Sometimes I'm not sure it's even really happening.\n\nI don't think I'm hallucinating any of this. I've had hallucinations before, of course. If I go off my meds for a few weeks they start up. Mostly it's voices or snippets of songs I don't recognize. But I never saw things that weren't there. Not until I came here to the Ironglade. What was I doing here?\n\n\"Come on!\" Ethelred begged me. I looked at the chessboard again. My knight had definitely moved. Some of my pawns had also changed positions when I blinked. I stood up and shook my head.\n\n\"I'm not in the mood to play anymore, Red,\" I tell him. He hates being called Red almost as much as he hates being called Ethel. I walk way before he has a chance to try to jinx my shoelaces or something.\n\nEthelred, like all the other residents here at the Ironglade, is a magician of some sort. Wizards, witches, sorcerers, and even a demonologist. Although that last one is locked away in a room with a leather gag over his mouth and chained within a circle of salt. Most of the others they let wander free as their power is severely checked by runescaping. \n\nThe Ironglade gets its name from the fact that the outer wall of the facility is made of cold iron. Cold iron has much the same effect on the flow of magic as the Hoover Dam has on the Colorado River. All that gets in is a little trickle here and there around the windows and doors. To deal with that the wardens carve intricate runes all over the walls, the doors, and even the panes of glass. Then the patients are equipped with warding bracelets that restrict their own innate magic and minimize the effect of magic hurled by others. The most powerful mages, those like Ethelred, still had enough juice to reheat a cold sandwich. Maybe. Most of the others were more or less like me. A regular mortal. Except for one small difference.\n\nI started walking down the hallway towards my room. There were granite blocks in the floor in front of each door. Complex runes were carved into the face of each block. Only the occupants of the rooms and staff members could cross over the blocks. At least in theory. In practice there was one notable exception to the rule. Those runes on the walls, on the floor, and etched all over the place work by creating an interference pattern with a mage's native magic. Just touching them can be lethal for a mage. Non-magical people, however, can tap dance on the things and not feel a thing. Which is why Ethelred is always trying to goad me into destroying a rune or two.\n\nOn a whim I change directions at the last moment and head towards Alister's room. Even most of the staff don't have access to this place. I pick up a book off a shelf as I go.\n\nI step over the outer boundaries of the containment spells. The circles of elements are mostly not a problem either. Except for the fire ring. I have to jump that one. Fortunately my feet were still damp from splashing through the water ring. I found the door scrawled with a network of interlocking runes in several different languages and at least three different types of blood. As usual, though, there was no actual lock on the door. I turned the knob and stepped inside.\n\n\"Mmmmmmm!\" Alister shouted through the leather gag.\n\n\"I know,\" I said as I carefully stepped around the ring of salt and made my way to the corner. I tried to be Smokey the Bear in this room and leave things exactly as I found them.\n\n\"Just looking for a quiet place to read,\" I explained to Alister. He grunted at me again. His eyes flashed a deep red but I ignored it for the moment. \n\nI'm really not sure how, exactly, I got sent to the wrong facility. Does that mean there is now a rogue wizard sitting in some padded cell waiting for his next hit of happy drugs? I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. We'll have to wait for the body count. In the meantime, I just wanted to read.\n\n\"Mmmmmm!\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I sighed as I found my place in the book, \"You've mentioned your opinion of Harry Potter before. But at least the wizards in there are only evil. Not crazy.\"", "NSFW language \n--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\nDay 1: They told me I was “mentally unbalanced” which is what my friend was called in high school, when he decked that bully and they needed a reason to punish him. I don’t think that’s what i’m like. I don’t think this was just an excuse to send me somewhere, but I don't believe them either. But they made it clear that what I thought wasn’t “what normal people think.” whatever, like they have their shit together anyway. Yeah, I might think the government are trying to steal my feet, not my feet-feet, but my spirit feet, which they are, but they can’t even fucking spell. \n\nI was suppose to go to “Bilgewater institute” but I saw the sign when they brought me! it’s called “Blindwand institute” Whatever, I guess it’s less about who has their shit together and more about who looks like they have their shit together. And this place looks like it has it’s shit together. Everything is impossibly clean and orderly, I mean it is a mental institution, but jesus, it feels like nurse Ratchet took a bunch of meth and was given free reign, at least I’m allowed personal effects (they better not expect my room to be that fucking neat.). Someone is knocking, I think it’s an orderly to take me to my first therapy session; I’ll write again soon, shit, the doc will probably ask me to keep a journal anyway. docs love journals.\n\nDay 2: ok, this isn’t ok. Maybe I am sick in the head, because this shit is fucking crazy. I swear to god I left my journal open, my pencils laying around, my clothing on the floor, my blinds closed when I went to bed. But I woke up today and everything is perfectly neat. Maybe it’s the stress of a new home. \n\nthe other patients don’t seem to want much to do with me. They seem to stick together in groups that are pretty close nit. As of now, I’m sitting in the commons writing and no matter how I try, no one will have a conversation with me, though I know they can, as they spend most of their time talking to each oth- Holy fuck. fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. no.no fucking way. no. That picture just moved! what the fuck. no. I’m not crazy… no. I’m “unbalenced” there is no way that I saw that. It was a trick of the eye. no.nononono. sht, it’s time for my meeting with the doc, should I tell him about this?\n\nDay 3: When I was waiting outside the docs office I heard him on the phpone. I couldn’t make out what he was saying too well, but from what I could gather he was trying to transfer me t another institution, but couldn’t seem to give a reason. he just kept saying that this was a place only for “extremely special cases.” But I’m starting think that’s me, this shit is getting….. wierd. Third day in a row that my room has been cleaned in my sleep, but the log on my door indicates no one has been coming in; maybe the janitor just doesn’t care enough…. but there’s more. Whenever I’ve been with the other patients I swear to god that I’m hearing voices. Just whispers, somehow appearing in my head. I was suppose to just be suicidal, or depressed or something, I don’t know, I wasn’t listening, maybe there was some ADD in there or something. \n\nDay 4: Fuck this place.\n\nDay 5: The pictures are still moving.\n\nDay 6: Maybe I’m delusional… That’s why I don’t think I’m crazy enough to be here. I spent all day shattering my water glass on the floor and watching it reassemble itself. Where are these other crazies from? I swear to god, after an hour of smashing one of them said “Fucking muggles” what the fuck is a muggle?!?!? \n\nDay 7: I just realized that none of us are being given medication…. is this some kind of sick experiment?\n\nDay 8: I finally told the doc all the things I’ve been seeing. He assured me that these were normal symptoms of my illness and that he’d \"up my medications.\" After seeing my face he quickly said, “I meant “treatment”” and had the orderly usher me out of his office. I swear to god I saw him pull a book off the shelve titled “Muggle medication: A guide to Masking...” I didn’t catch the rest. Where the fuck am I?\n\nDay 9: fucking owls. Everywhere.\n\nDay 10: I destroyed everything in my room before sleep, it was fixed in the morning. How did they put my bed back on the frame, with me, without waking me?\n\nDay 11: The pen I used today carved the words into my hand. The fuck is this?\n\nDay 12: New patient today, teenager with a scar on his forehead. Kept muttering about the power of names.\n\nDay 13: acceptance. I’m crazy. Magic is real and I’m crazy. I’ve begun talking to the moving photos.\n\nDay 14: I told the doctor my discoveries, he told me I was delusional and possibly schizophrenic. Whatever.\n\nDay 15: The kid with the scar tells me he’s breaking out, that he smuggled in a wand. I would ask if he’s crazy, but I believe in magic now.\n\nDay 20: He blew up the wall between our rooms and then the wall leading outside. Fuck this, I’m out, went back to bed.\n\nDay 21: the kid with a scar is a moving picture in the newspaper.\n\nDay 23: The doc told me I was being moved to another institution after the “incident” with my room and my neighbor's. I’m just glad to leave. I might be insane, but this place is driving me crazy.\n\nDay 27: I arrive at my new institution, “Bilgewater Institute.” Where the fuck was I? I begin asking the photo of the lead therapist in the hall. The nurses lead me away.\n", " Ca", "\"What's with the mittens, though?\" I asked Cornellius, holding up the lime-green pads that were supernaturally bound over my hands. \n\nHe looked at me over the rim of his reading glasses and lowered his copy of 'Mysterious Magical Madames Monthly.' It was pretty clear from his expression that he was getting really tired of my questions, and we'd only been cell mates for one day.\n\n\"You ever try casting a spell with these on?\" he asked. I gave him my best are-you-kidding-me face; he knew that I was a normie who had somehow wound up in the wrong facility. Instead of a straightjacket and a padded cell, I ended up with oven mitts.\n\nHe chuckled as he realized his error. \"Of course you haven't.\" He tossed the magazine aside and sat up. His bright orange robe was rumpled and stained. \"A good spell is all about wand control, man. You've got to aim it just right, and do exactly the right motion. No way to do that with hands like cushiony hooves. I can't even turn the god-damned page of my magazine like this!\"\n\n\"Wouldn't you need a wand, though?\" I wondered. \"I mean, what are the gloves for if you don't have a wand to use anyway?\"\n\n\"Oh, a wand ain't that hard to come by. All you really need is a good bit of wood and some magical material. That's one of the reasons why they don't let us outside anymore; too easy to come by any old branch and a bit of frog's blood. That, or you could be passing messages through butterflies and end up flying off on an eagle or something.\" He stared at the obsidian wall between the cell and the outside. \"Damn I miss the fresh air,\" he said. \n\nI scratched at my forehead with the mitts. \"Sure are uncomfortable, though...\"" ]

[ 1, 2, 13, 23, 39, 61, 91 ]

[ "1417736873", "1417733027", "1417725945", "1417731734", "1417727252", "1417723031", "1417723161" ]

[ "\"I can smell my armpits\", I thought to myself, and just as the words passed through my mind I could hear myself saying them out aloud. I looked up, hoping for no one else at the bus stop to have noticed, but the look I got from the elderly gentleman behind me left no doubt. He was dressed in a cheap suit, and carefully took two steps away from me while typing on his phone.\n\n*Great*, I thought, this time managing to keep the words in my head. *I should not have gone out last night. Should not have gone out last night.* The mere thought of last night made my stomach turn, and I had to take a deep breath of cold air just to settle it. The air tasted like vomit. I looked down, wishing that I had my phone or something else to focus my gaze on. The ground was still spinning and there was something stuck to my shoe. I had to close my eyes and take another deep breath for the world to calm down a bit.\n\n\"Your armpits smell like raspberries\", a voice near me suddenly said. I looked up, and a girl with long, dark hair stood in front of me. She was pretty, and I was confused. As soon as the meaning of her words hit me, I burst out laughing, and I realized that I in no way was completely sober yet. She laughed too, then smiled. The girl was very pretty, and the part of my brain that had somehow survived the efforts of the night before were racing to come up with a funny reply. Unfortunately my lips betrayed me once again, and the words I uttered were the first ones that came to mind.\n\n\"You move silently\", I said, and somewhere in the back of my head my last few remaining brain cells decided to call it a day. The girl said nothing, but leaned in as if to give me a hug. To my surprise, she did give me a hug. She was not as tall as me, leaving her nostrils approximately at the height of my aforementioned armpits. I awkwardly patted her back, wondering if she was ill, had a weird fetish or was preparing to stab me. Without uttering another word she turned around and left.\n\n\"Nice\", the elderly man behind me said, seemingly impressed. I watched the girl turn a corner and disappear from view just as the bus arrived.\n\nI was late for work, but without my phone there was no way to call ahead and get someone to cover for me. As I sat down on the seat I absentmindedly checked my pockets for my phone, and was very surprised to actually find one. The phone looked just like the one I had left at home, but seemed heavier, somehow.\n\n*Did I steal this phone last night?* My memories from the night before were hazy to say the least, and now the anxiety was getting to me. I had woken up on the bathroom floor, mouth parched and every part of my body aching, just to realize that I was late for work. Then the whole affair with the crazy armpit girl happened, and now I was on the bus with a stolen phone. I pressed the power button and saw that an app was running. There was no pin required, no logo or any information, just a display button with the word *pause* written on it.\n\nI pressed the button on the display and immediately felt sick. There was no way to stop it, there was no time to wait. This was happening, and it was happening now. It was mostly liquids, and even though the taste of stomach acid was overwhelming I could smell the sickening sweet odour of Jägermeister, causing me to dry heave a few more times. *Come on! You’re 32 years old!* my inner voice screamed furiously. My inner voice had no reply. Then the shame came washing over me. I felt ashamed, filthy and sick. I wanted to go home. I wanted to shower, sleep, eat and possibly return this stolen phone.\n\nI noticed that the bus had stopped, and dreaded to look up to meet the gaze of a furious bus driver and the disgusted passengers. Without the engine noise the bus was quiet, and the only sound that was to be heard was the sound of droplets of sick making their way down the steps to the bus door. I looked up. The man in the cheap suit was still here, looking at his phone. A woman leaned hear head against the window a couple of seats in front of me. None of them were looking at me. All was quiet.\n\nI stood up, turned around, and saw two teenagers staring in my direction, but something was wrong. Their eyes were glassy, unmoving. The man in the suit was still staring at his phone, the woman still with her head against the window, and the bus driver had not moved from his seat. I looked out the window. The bus had not pulled over, but just stopped in the middle of the road. There were cars behind and cars ahead of us, but no car horns to be heard. Suspended in the air outside was a torn plastic bag. Unmoving.\n\nI felt dizzy and sat back down in my seat. I clutched the phone in my hand, looking at the display. It was different now. The button said *resume*.\n", "The bus is late. I hate it when the bus is late. Sometimes, it annoys me so much, I kick the busstop. I know I shouldn't. It is not the busdriver's fault that he is late. I still need to kick something. I get aggressive.\n\nI can't. There is a girl next to me. She is waiting too. She is also annoyed. There's something perky about the way she displays her annoyance; head high, eyes forward and a pleasant lingering smile on her lips. I always look far too neutral when I wait on the busstop.\n\n\"The bus is late,\" she says. \"I don't like busses that are late. They always feel dirty.\" \n\nI can only nod. \"That is true, but luckily it is not raining today.\" \n\nShe looks my way now, pose bent forward, nails pointing to her palms. \"You could use a shower.\" \n\n\"Pardon?\" I say. \"Are you telling me...\"\n\n\"No,\" her voice is level, almost secretive. \"I am offering you a shower. I am quite sure whatever you are going to is not important enough anyway.\"\n\nI think of my parents. They had hoped I would stop by today, but they were only counting on me tomorrow. She does had a point.\n\"It is not the destination that matters, they sometimes say,\" I reply.\n\n\"Then it is time for some adventure.\" \n\nShe takes my hand and pulls me with her. We walk across the street and enter a small apartment building. My heart is racing as I follow her; what is she going to do to me? Why am I falling for this? Is this really happening?\n\nIt is. We enter her apartment, she opens the shower curtain and turns the shower on. In the hallway she starts to strip and after a moment's hesitation I follow. We enter the shower and she hugs me close. Strangely close to a stranger. She smells very nice. An attractive girl and we are in the shower.\n\nThere's no water coming out, I notice. It is something more fluid. I realize it smells of lubricant. I feel our bodies close together, sliding across each other with the greatest of ease. If I felt discomfort with the situation before, that sense now explodes.\n\nThen the floor disappears and we are falling. Every time I hit the side of the brightly lit metal tube, the lubricant keeps us going. We are moving faster and faster and faster. Until I can barely hear my own thoughts in my head.\n\nThen the tube ends and I am falling. I barely contain the rising panic in my mind before we hit the water. I sink briefly beneath the surface before rising once again.\n\n\"Welcome to the U.S.E. Pandora, sir,\" the girl said, slowly dressing into a suit of black fabric. \"We are all ready for you to take command.\" \n\nWith some surprise I look out of the window. Earth is there, but far away. The moon is also visible as a shining white orb. I feel the artificial gravity take hold.\n\n\"We are all ready to take your orders, sir,\" a number of other men and women step forward.\n\nI take two steps out of the pool before I faint.", "Benjamin Miller walked up to the bus stop, yawning and gripping his cup of joe tightly in his right hand. Another typical Monday. He sat down on the bench next to a young woman dressed in a sundress and flip flops. She was typing away on her phone, and Ben assumed she was texting someone. She looked up and gave him a smile and a “morning,” then returned to her phone. “ Morning to you as well,” Ben replied. “Very nice weather today. I hear a heat wave is coming Wednesday. Hopefully it’s not too rough.” “Ya I saw that on the news last night. It was great over the weekend. That rain on Saturday was much needed,” the woman replied. “Ya it was a wild downpour for a while. My tree in my yard fell over. And my basement flooded.” Suddenly the woman jerked up from her phone. She stared straight at Ben, then said curtly, “What did you just say?” Ben looked at her funny, then repeated “My basement flooded.” “That’s what I thought. Welcome to the United States, Mr. President. If you’ll come with me, we’ll be moving you to a safe house downtown. From there, we can get you into the protective custody of the Secret Service.” “What?” Ben replied, flabbergasted. “My name is Agent Sophia McIntosh of the FBI. I’m going to put this bag over your head to protect your identity. We’re going to move you to that car on the far corner.” Before Ben could say or do anything, the woman slipped a black bag over his head then manhandled him, moving him briskly across the street. Ben couldn’t see a thing through the bag, and tripped over the curb. “Careful, sir. Try to act natural,” the woman said as she pulled him onto his feet and kept him moving. After a few steps, Ben heard the doors of a car opening, then he heard a gruff, masculine voice say “Hurry up. Get him in the car. Some Al-Wazari militants have been spotted in the city. They know he’s here. We’ve gotta get him downtown now.” Ben was marched into the car and sat down, and someone buckled his seatbelt for him. “What’s going on?” Ben cried through the bag. “What was that sir? I couldn’t hear you through the bag,” came the muffled voice of Sophia. “What the hell is going on? Who are you people?” Ben repeated. “Don’t worry sir, we’re moving now. I’ll take the bag off.” Suddenly, Ben heard a series of muffled thunks on the outside of the car. “Shots fired. Get going now!!” The gruff man shouted. Ben heard a screech of tires, then the car shot off. Ben was thrown into the back of the seat as the car sped off. He could feel as the car took a series of rapid turns. He heard more thunks behind him, and he instinctively ducked. “They’re still on us! Thank god for the bulletproof glass. McIntosh, return fire!” Ben heard a window open, then a loud series of gunshots. Sophia was leaning out the window, firing back at the pursuers. Then, he felt a body fall on top of him. A warm, liquid sensation spread across his lap. “McIntosh! Agent down, repeat, Agent down. Get the medics ready at the safe house!” A crackling voice responded as if through a radio: “Yes, Sir!” “I’ll take them out myself.” Ben heard another window open, this time as if above him. He heard a grunt, then a loud, blasting roar. The man was firing a mounted machine gun out the top of the truck. “Holy shit!” Ben cried to himself. The window closed, then the man said, “They’re gone sir. I got ‘em. We’re almost to the safe house.” Ben heard a garage door open, then the car slowed to a stop. A door opened, then the weight was lifted off his lap. “She’s hit in the chest and arm. Take her to a hospital. Hold on Sophe, you’ll be fine.” Then, Ben was once again manhandled, pulled out of the car and marched across a room. He was sat down onto a comfy couch, then the bag was finally pulled off his head. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light, and looked up to see himself seated in front of a grizzled, middle aged man in a black and white suit. The man had a gun on his hip and a toothpick in his mouth. “Hello Mr. President. I’m glad you’re alright.” He turned around and beckoned two other suited men forward. They handed the man a folder, then backed away. “Holy shit. Those plastic surgeons did a hell of a job. You don’t look anything like you used to. How did they get the skin pigmentation to look so natural?” “What are you talking about? Where am I? Who are all of you?” “What are you talking about, sir? We’re the FBI unit assigned to protect you.” “Protect me? Why? What did I do?” “How could you forget? We’re taking you to New York to talk to the UN.” “What?” “Wait a minute. You are Adisa Mamballoun, President of Nigeria? The President targeted by the Nigerian rebel group Al-Wazari? The group leading a civil war in Nigeria. You’re here to give a speech to the United Nations about the atrocities committed by Al-Wazari and to ask for UN assistance to take back your country? That’s you right?” “What? No. I’m Benjamin Miller. I’m from Idaho. I’m a paralegal at Booz Allen Hamilton. I have no idea who you’re talking about. I’ve never been to Nigeria! Please explain why people are shooting at me!” “Oh god Fucking damnit. Sophia grabbed the wrong guy. How did this happen? Did you say the key phrase?” “What?” “Did you at any point today tell Sophia that your basement flooded?” “Ya, it did! I had to bring everything upstairs to save it. There’s still a foot of water in my basement.” “God damnit. So where’s the President?” The man turned to his men. “Sweep the city. We’ve got the wrong man. If only we knew what he looked like. Hurry damnit.!” Meanwhile, across town, a tall, dark-skinned man wearing a Hawaiian shirt and sandals was walking up to random people at a bus stop saying “my basement flooded! My basement flooded!”" ]

[ 2, 3, 7 ]

[ "1417741255", "1417727299", "1417723576" ]

[ "'911 state your emergency' \n\nFor a few brief seconds all that could be heard was the heavy breath of the caller. \n\nShe repeated, 'Hello? 911 State your emergency'\n\nUntil finally, the inaudible static broke, 'Hello Jen.' Her eyes opened wide as her jaw fell and the pores on her neck stiffened, cold. 'what's wrong? Hello?' \n\nThere was no doubt as to the identity of the man, one word and Jen was taken back to her previous life, a life of torture and misery, a life with him. \n\n'where are you.' The words left her mouth, shacking, unable to mask the fright in her heart. \n\n'At home of course. It took some effort breaking down the door though, I told you I would be needing a spare key sooner or later.' The cold voice shifted, resembling a more lighthearted tone as if taking part in banter.' \n\nAll of a sudden it dawned on her, she murmured to herself with increasing panic, 'oh god the kids...' \n\n'Oh the kids! Yeah they're fine. We spent a few hours playing in the backyard, How many years has it been, five? Billy's grown quite a lot, and Sarah is so adorable! Its just a shame I didn't get to spend more time with them. That's OK though, now we have time to catch up as well!'\n\nAs he stood, waiting for a response, all the caller heard was a loud thump and the sound of distant screams. \n\n\n", "You work in an emergency call centre, as you have been for the past nine years. It's not exactly what you wanted to do, but it pays the bills on your rental apartment and allows you the little luxuries in your spare time. \n\nToday is like any other day, you take calls from distressed members of the public, you attempt to help them, whilst you connect them with the relevant department. You take the calls all day, your once boiling hot coffee is now half drunk and cold. \n\nYour co-worker who sits across from you, the one you like, is not feeling so well today so has taken off and asked if you can cover their calls. You oblige, because you're that type of person. \n\nThe calls stream in as the day turns to night and you aren't really sure if your shift has ended. You become slowly aware that the office, once filled with a thousand voices, is now empty bar from you. You keep taking the calls. It's your job after all, if no one else is there to help - who will? You're just that type of person, remember?\n\nYou forget what it means to be tired, all the voices in distress seem to merge into one. That is until you receive the call from me, the one you have been waiting for, perhaps all your life. My voice is not like all the others, I am not in a frenzied panic, I am calm, collected and comforting. \n\nI don't need help. I'm here to help you. You hang up the phone like I ask you. You take none of the voices with you, except for mine. We keep taking you and I, you soon forget about the voices - the people who need your help. This is unlike you, you are normally that type of person, but today who can say what kind of person you are? \n\nThe thought quickly passes. Let's go for a walk. ", "Most 911 calls aren't emergencies. You might think of the 911 as something sacred, something only to call during- you know- an emergency. But most calls are minor complaints of perceived illegal offenses. And, just in case you didn't know, most Americans don't actually have a solid grasp of the law.\n\nWesley Greene moved to Phoenix Arizona this year. He got a dual major in Criminal Justice and Law in Colorado, not knowing or caring exactly what he would do with it. The move to Phoenix was, more than anything, to get away from his alcoholic mother and argumentative siblings. Since their dad died (he got fired, got angry, got drunk, got driving, got wrecked) the family's been falling apart, so Wesley escaped through schoolwork and now has successfully made it to an apartment in a distant city where he lays up at night wondering since he doesn't drink what exactly gets *him* off.\n\nToday, 911 operator Wesley Greene has received:\n\n * A call from an angry customer kicked out of a restraint for being too loud, believing this was a violation of his rights. He definitely sounded drunk.\n * A call from a girlfriend who, during a fight with her boyfriend, threatened to call 911 if he brought up her ex again because this was verbal abuse (I know this might not make sense to you, but she had a lengthy argument which Wesley Greene had to patiently listen to- his attempts of \"this line is for emergencies only\" not withstanding). She sounded a bit drunk, too.\n * A call about a stolen watch. To be fair, this is technically a crime, but 911 isn't where you go to report things like this.\n\nThis is a typical day for Wesley. And only the first two hours of his shift have passed.\n\nOccasionally he receives health calls and must dispatch ambulances. These are enough to shake him up, though honestly he prefers these calls. They're exciting, they're why he got the job, they're what makes him feel like he's helping people as he tells them to \"Stay calm, make sure [whoever it is] is breathing, we are on our way.\" \n\nYesterday while laying in his apartment Wesley reflected on the irony of this, that he prefers to hear people in distress. He mused that must be what gets him off, what he looks forward to, some action through the telephone. Not only because of the helping people, but because each time he hears an idiot call he looses a little bit more faith in Americans. \"We can't all be idiots,\" he thought, thinking of his family and country. \n\nAnother call.\n\n\"911, what is your emergency?\"\n\n\"Hello? Yes? Can you hear me?\"\n\nHeavy breathing. Like he's been running. Wesley sat up.\n\n\"I can hear you, what is your emergency?\"\n\n\"Are you sure you can hear me? Because I need you to listen. I don't know where I am.\"\n\n\"Sir, can you describe your situation to me? We can track your location from here.\"\n\n\"No,\" he breathed, \"Tell me that you can hear me!\"\n\n\"Yes, I can hear you.\"\n\nThe noise from the phone stopped. Not just that the man went silent, it sounded like the line died. Wesley checked, nope, he was still connected. \n\n\"Sir, are you there?\"\n\nThere was a beat. One of Wesley's coworkers looked at him with curious concern. Then:\n\n\"Oh... what were you expecting when the phone rang this time?\"\n\nA completely different voice, harsher, with words slightly slurred. And the background noise changed, too. \n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\n\"What were you expecting? Another 'idiot'? Did that rushed voice get you excited?\"\n\nWesley looked around, this was getting threatening.\n\n\"Sir-\"\n\n\"I need you to tell me what you were hoping for here Wesley.\"\n\nHow does he know his name?\n\n\"Because you see Wesley, I'm driving, and-\" the man burped- \"I'm actually pretty good at it, despite what you or Mom say when I'm drinking. If I were to crash right now, don't think it has anything to do with the booze. What I am doing right now, right now I am not about to die because of some drunk driving, don't right me off that easily Wesley, I am not an idiot here I heard what you said last night...\"\n\n\"Who is this?\" Wesley's coworker was now watching with serious concern; Wesley's face was white and eyes were wide.\n\n\"Oh, you know that. And the real questions you should be asking if you were smart are how this correspondence here is taking place, but that probably isn't too important-\n\nThat voice you heard earlier, I don't know who it was either but it called me too. All it wants is for us to listen to each other, maybe this is a test, or a divine intervention or something because he knows where I'm driving to Wesley, I think he,\n\nWell, you know what he wants. He knows where I'm driving to, he wants you to talk me out of it, but you aren't really talking much here at all Wesley...\"\n\nWesley opened his mouth but didn't say anything, then he heard,\n\n\"Oh, great load of help you are-\", And then CRASH and Wesley snapped and yelled \"DAD!\" at the top of his lungs standing up in the office with all of his coworkers staring at him. The line broke. Wesley had some tears coming down his look-like-you've-seen-a-ghost face. He'd have some stuff to think about at the apartment tonight.", "911: 911, What is your emergency?\n\nCaller: Little Timmy says hi.\n\n911: Excuse me? Sir we do not appreciate prank calls, do you have an emergency? \n\nCaller: Oh this isn't a prank call. There is an emergency, but it isn't mine. It's yours Tabitha. I have Timmy.\n\n911: How...how did you know my name? And what have you done with my child?\n\nCaller: Oh I haven't done anything to little Timmy yet. But He'll be losing one finger every hour, starting in about two minutes. Unless of course, you can give me what I want.\n\n911: What do you want? Oh God please don't hurt my son!\n\nCaller: I want my life back. You're the dispatcher that sent the police to my house last month. I lost everything, and they've been searching for me for weeks.\n\n911: I don't know how to do that...just don't hurt my son!!\n\nCaller: You might want to figure that out Tabitha, because Timmy is losing his left pinky finger as we speak.\n\n*Muffled Screams*\n\n911: **PLEASE GOD NO!!!**", "“I’m holding your father’s hand,” he said. His tongue curled around the s like a hissing snake.\n\n“Who is this?” I asked. I knew it must be a crank, you can’t choose who you speak to when you dial 9-1-1. “It is a crime to block-up this line.” Still my heart had started beating a little faster. There was something disquieting about his voice.\n\n“His wedding ring is a little scuffed. Let me just…” I could hear his heavy breathing on the other end of the line as his fidgeted with something in his hands. “There we go, that’s a little better,” he said. “I prefer a subtle band. So many men go for the ostentatious, as if a narrow band would make them less of a man.”\n\n“I’m going to need you to get off the line unless you have an emergency.” I always gave the cranks a little leeway. Sometimes you never know, and I didn’t want to find out later they were truly in distress. “Please state your emergency.”\n\n“Oh there’s no emergency here. I just admiring the small tattoo on the webbing of your father’s hand.” My heart bounced against my chest. “Tell me, what do you think it means?” \n\nThe world stopped for a moment and I could taste the bile rising in my throat. How could he know? “My father has no such tattoo,” I said.\n\n“Oh come now,” he replied. “Let’s not play games.” I couldn’t think. Lights flashed at the corners of my vision and the colour was draining from the room “A butterfly. How unusual.”\n\n“What do you want?” I asked. I could hear the tremble in my voice and tried to still the panic rising inside me. “What are you doing with my father?”\n\n“Oh I left your father hours ago. All I have is his hand.”", "It's funny how a phone-call can drive you to the end of your rope. An impersonal break-up, an angry superior at work, perhaps a loved one of yours has died. No matter the cause, you might find yourself angry, enraged with the hand you have been dealt.\n\nJustin looked up at the wall clock, an old, black behemoth that would have been more fitting in a high-school classroom than the dark dispatch office. He was a 911 dispatcher, as despite the increasing fast pace of our lives with technology, your life still hangs in the balance of a regular human being, sitting at his desk.\n\nThe time was 3:45AM, fifteen minutes until the end of his shift. He had been dealt a poor hand today, listening to two women crying into the phone while their abusive, usually drunk boyfriends beat them half to death. It's hard when you hear the first blow. It's harder when you hear later that one of them didn't make it.\n\nHe glanced into his drawer, reaching towards the back for a pack of cigarettes, crumpled and slightly dusty with age, before stopping himself.\n\n*I quit three months ago*, Justin thought to himself.\n\nAnd just then, his phone began to ring.\n\n*\"911, what is your emergency?\"*\n\n**\"Hello sir. Would you like to play a game?\"**\n\n*\"Sir, what is your emergency? I must remind you that prank calls are a misdemeanor offense.\"*\n\n**\"This is no prank, dispatcher. There's a lovely young woman sitting right here, she's part of the game. There are some lovely tools near me, these are also part of the game. And if you don't want to play my game, it appears that these tools will be used in an...** ***unconventional*** **method.\"**\n\n*\"Sir, where are you located right now?\"*\n\n**\"Tsk tsk tsk. I'm afraid you'll have to work for your reward, old boy. Unless you'd like me to hang up right now, in which case I can gut this poor girl with an electric carving knife, right now.\"**\n\nJustin stared at his screen in disbelief of what he saw. Whomever was calling him could not be traced. He decided it best, then, to go along with this man's \"game\", and see if he could find any clues on where he might be.\n\n*\"Alright... I'll play your deluded game.\"*\n\n**\"What is your name?\"**\n\nJustin hesitated for a moment, then decided against it. This woman's life, whoever she might be, hangs in the balance because of his answers.\n\n*\"My name is Justin.\"*\n\n**\"A charming name. I'd tell you mine, but that would take some of the sport out of this, don't you think? I digress. Let us begin.\"**\n\nJustin was nervous, angry even. What if this could happen to his wife? There are so many fucked-up people in the world, what if one of them finds her someday?\n\n**\"Tonight's game will be a little trivia match, provided by yours truly. If you answer a question correctly, you get increasingly specific answers about my location. If you answer incorrectly, who knows what I'll do? Smash a toe with a hammer? Slice off an ear? Oh, there are so many, *many* options...\"**\n\nJustin, already at what was supposed to be the end of a very stressful shift, and now having to listen to the insane ramblings of a deranged psychopath, threatening to kill a woman, lost his temper.\n\n*\"Just shut your fucking mouth and tell me what you want me to do!\"*\n\nThis proved to be an... *unwise* decision.\n\nA large thump came from the receiver, followed by muffled sobs.\n\n**\"How very rash of you, Justin. You just made me break this poor woman's nose. Perhaps you should be more careful with your words, no? Next time it might be a baseball bat, and not my fist.\"**\n\nJustin grinded his teeth and pulled out a cigarette from the crumpled pack.\n\n*I quit three months ago*, he thought to himself, lighting up the cigarette. But tonight, he had been dealt a very poor hand indeed.\n\n------\nFirst prompt I've ever answered. If there's more interest for a part two, I might make one.", "\"911 what is your emergency?\"\nPlease send a bomb squad quick!\n\"Sir what do you mean?\" \nI work at Lego land Florida and a new one million single block Lego order just arrived\n\"Sir I'm not understanding what happened.\"\nI dropped them all over the place when we were air dropping it to the center of the park. \n\"Are you say there are a million single block Legos all over Legoland?\"\nYes yes I am.\n...\nHello? \n", "\"911, what's your emergency?\"\n\n\nI heard crackling on the other end of the line, like a candy wrapper.\n\n\"911, what's your emergency?\" I asked again, a little more sternly. \n\"Hello? Hello, who is this?\" It was a young mans voice. It sounded familiar, but the voice was strangely garbled.\n\n\"Sir, you have contacted emergency services. Do you have an emergency to report?\" I pushed. \n\nI heard sounds of agony on the other end.\n\n\"Yes. Yes, I have an emergency. I don't know who...or where I am. But... I must have crashed my car, I'm just on the treeline of a small patch of trees now. Aside from that...well, it's dark. I can't see much.\"\n\nI swallowed. This was unusual, even for me.\n\n\"Sir, can you describe your injuries?\" I asked.\n\nI heard a nervous groan. \"My legs are broken. They're just a red bloody mush now, but I can't feel them. I can barely feel anything.\"\n\nEven after years of hearing abused women crying for help and people discovering their loved ones hanging from the ceiling fan this call unsettled me.\n\n\"Okay sir, please try to remain calm. We have tracked your location and emergency medical services are on the way. I'm going to remain on the line with you until help arrives.\" I reassured him.\n\nI heard him exhale slowly. \n\nAfter some time, with him seemingly holding the phone just below his mouth, I heard his breath get closer to the receiver again.\n\n\"Sir, have emergency medical services arrived?\" I asked.\n\nNo answer.\n\n\"Sir?\" \n\nI heard panicked breathing on the other end. My heart dropped with every passing second. Then his voice flickered back in.\n\n\"Wolves. Wolves. There's about a dozen wolves approaching my car, my door won't close....oh God!\" \n\nI heard screaming on the other end, which was eventually covered up by the sounds of snarling and snapping. The screams faded until they stopped.\n\nI pulled off my headset and said a prayer. ", "911: Hello, what is your emergency?\nMe: oh, not really MY emergency per say.\n911: What? Please be more clear sir.\nMe: It all started when I found a matchbook in my grandpas attic, burned it down for no reason.\n911: Umm please state what's wrong.\nMe: Oh sorry I got a bit off track, insanity does that to you. Anyways the bodies are laying in the pile of rubble and ash on 334 cherry ave.\n911: What happened?!\nMe: Oh just a bit of revenge, no one calls me crazy, I'm not a psycho I LOVE SMALL ANIMALS!\n911: Do you need help?! \nMe: No not at all, but I figured I might as well call first.\nBackground voice: *uuiuuuuuuugh*\nMe: Oh crap. *gunshots*\n911: WHAT WAS THAT?!\nMe: He wasn't all dead. Goodbye, I need a nap.\n\n*after sending police to 334 cherry rosemary got up and walked away*\n ", "''Sir, you need to cut her down...no...listen to me...get a knife and cut her down...no...what are you doing?...she might still be alive...we might be able to help her...cut her down...cut her down...CUT. HER DOWN.\" *click*\n\nI am actually a 999 operator, this is a fairly accurate transcript of one side of a recent call to us.", "\"This is 911, what is your emergency?\" Sally asked, for the fifth time that day.\n\n\"You don't have much time, listen to me,\" a man's raspy voice whispered. Sally jolted a little in her seat as she heard the voice... It sounded oddly... Inhuman. Not that he was an alien or anything, but there was a certain edge to his voice... Something that contained pure panic. \n\n\"Sir... I'm going to need you to calm down... we have police on the way. I'm going to need you to spec-\"\n\n\"STOP! Just stop!\" Im not in trouble, I don't need anyone, I'm just warning you! Their starting with people like you. The government, police, emergency services, you all are going first!\n\n\"Sir...\" Sally hesitated as she tried to make sense of what she just heard. \" I... I don't know what you are talking about... \"\n\n\"Of course you don't! Nobody does!!! I'm the only one who knew it was going to happen! I kept trying and trying to warn you people, but everybody keeps saying I'm insane! Now you fools should be thanking me, but it's too late... their coming soon.\"\n\nSally, at this point, was terrified and just completely creeped out. In all the confusion, she didn't even realize the sound of traffic outside had ceased. \"Alright, what the hell is going on?\" she screamed into her receiver . Sally wanted desperately for it to be a prank call. It had to be a prank call. But the man's voice... That trepidation, that certainty... Could that truly be an act? \n\nHer stomach turned over as the man said two words. \"Good luck.\" \n\nAll of her training, all the years spent staying calm and collected as a 911 operator went away right at that moment. She trembled in panic as she heard a terrifying noise: the front door of the building being kicked down.", "The 911 operator adjusted his headset before speaking.\n\n\"911. What's your emergency?\"\n\nThere was no answer.\n\n\"Hello? Is anyone there?\" The operator lifted a finger and prepared to alert local officers nearby.\n\n\"You have such a pleasant voice,\" said the caller, his monotonous tone causing the operator's finger to halt over the dispatch button. \n\n\"I'm sorry? Sir is there an emergency?\"\n\n\"Not yet, not yet. Truthfully, I've searched so far and wide to find you, to hear you speak,\" said the dull man. There was a faint noise of metal clanking in the background as he spoke. \n\n\"Sir if this is a prank then-\"\n\n\"No no. No prank. There will be an emergency, yes, and I'm going to lead you straight to it. But I want you to hear me out. I want you to listen. Just listen. If only for a little while. That's all. Listen.\"\n\nThe operator fell silent and wondered what to say. There was the faintest suspicion that this was all a ruse; after all, who would be so calm calling 911 this late at night. But the man's voice, something was *off* about it, yet despite all this it was as captivating and enthralling as an open flame to a moth. \n\nThe operator was ensnared. He listened.\n\n\"There was a man I met a long time ago,\" said the caller, \"a man who was such a joy to listen to and watch. He didn't know how captivating he was to me, but what he showed me--what I found so beautiful and so tragic about him--was that he embodied such admirable persistence in a cruel and unforgiving world.\n\n\"And one thing I realized about this beautiful specimen of a human being was that he was trapped and held back by his life like a bird in a cage. He was charismatic, intelligent, *headstrong.* And for what? His talents were for naught. They were wasted. Wasted. Absolutely wasted.\"\n\nThe man shuffled around and footsteps could be heard on a hard floor shortly after.\n\n\"And it hit me,\" said the man as if receiving a sudden revelation. \"His cage must be *destroyed*. He must be unhinged!\"\n\nThe phone fell to the ground and the operator listened in horror as muffled screams of a woman filled the receiver. But why couldn't he say anything? Why couldn't he move? \n\nLike a statue with naught but a throbbing heart, he was petrified by the screams. They were familiar to him.\n\nThe man returned to the phone shortly after and his breathing was audible. \n\n\"This is the first step, Lucas.\"\n\nThe operator's eyes widened as he covered his mouth. *He knows my name. He knows. How could he. How.*\n\n\"There was something about her holding you back, something that kept you from being *free.* And I can't be sure what it was but that's no longer relevant. The first chain that's kept you bound for so long has been broken. Aren't you excited, Lucas? This is where the road to enlightenment begins!\"\n\nThe man was so lively now, so eerily joyous and gleeful. And with a trembling hand, Lucas ended the call and pressed the dispatch button. He knew--and he wish he didn't--where the murder happened, and in the deepest recesses of his intuition did he know that the victim was his fiance of 3 years.\n\n*Michelle.* \n\nAnd as the hot tears ran freely down his cheeks, he adjusted his headset and notified the local officers.\n\n\"Attention patrol units in the Greenspan area,\" he said, fighting back tears, \"possible homicide at 4393 Zero Avenue.\"\n\nHe took a deep breath and stared at the picture of Michelle on his desk. And the more he stared, the more hollow and dead he felt. \n\n\"Units are to be deployed immediately.\"\n\nHe removed his headset and fell from his chair, and he wept on the floor until he couldn't weep anymore.\n\n\n" ]

[ 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 7, 8, 8, 9, 20, 26, 34 ]

[ "1417758462", "1417776619", "1417755090", "1417753251", "1417762124", "1417756209", "1417740852", "1417751777", "1417739328", "1417750722", "1417747291", "1417750995" ]

[ "It was that word, Roanoke. it came to me in a dream, floating on the whispers of a raven's wing. I should have known its evil power then. My blade was dull and it took longer than necessary to etch the word into the tree. But by the time that it was done, everyone else had disappeared. I searched for my husband for days, knowing he would never leave me to fend for myself in this horrid new world. Worry turned into terror, with a smidgen of anger. I don't know who the anger was targeted at, everyone else for leaving or myself because I knew it was the word that did it. \n\nI was cunning and a quick learner. I'd say that's the reason I survived the treacherous journey back to civilization and through time, but It wasn't until about seven or eight years later that I realized something was off about me. My flesh stayed taunt and glimmered with youth as others had the slight pouch of age. \n\nI found a new home by that point and forged a new life. It wasn't easy, and I couldn't exactly tell anyone the truth. A small distance was between me and anyone else. That time I decided I would be the one to leave. Each community I found myself in the distance grew. My self hatred for listening to that word, for letting it seep into my brain, was only growing. \n\nI was eternally 27 in appearance with ever growing cynicism of the world around me. Nomadic and never letting anyone past the barriers I had concocted. My luck broke when my life journey led me on the path of the gold rush. If I was going to live forever, which at that point I was certain of, I might as well be rich. Not too many people were keen on women doing such things independently so I formed a team, my first longterm committed interaction since the word. \n\nPeter was the one who broke me. He was my partner, finding almost as much gold as me. He was outwardly impressed by my skills and remarked on them repeatedly along with my single status. He was charming and charismatic, nothing could dim the twinkle in his eye as he prepared to tell a joke or lessen the deep dimples that formed on his cheeks as he grinned. I was almost as mischievous as him, which made us a great team but better lovers. It took him 12 years to admit to himself that something was wrong. I was happy for those 12 years. Peter had thoughts for a while, but when he finally broke down and asked, he wouldn't believe the truth. He called me a demon and accused me of trading my soul. He took a knife and drove it through my chest. I don't know if it was in attempt to kill me or just to have definitive proof he was correct. My skin broke up but my blood stayed in its place like jello. The knife easily slicing through as if the opening was always there. He fainted and I left. \n\nThe next century was lonely. As time passed, some years more slowly than others, I realized how futile my existence was. No one could ever know, for fear of my arms being strapped to me and being asked if I was touched as a child. I could never stay in one place for very long, for fear that the people I did interact with would notice something. \n\nThen I met her, the year was 1994 and the times had changed so much since the word. Charlene, or Lenie as I affectionately called her on my more intoxicated evenings, was my angel. She tapped the bronze ball that was fixated to her tongue on her front teeth as she took my coffee order. It was slightly annoying but endearing. It took two years of nearly daily caffeine trips until she asked if I liked parties. She had noticed my solitary loner aura and decided she needed to take it upon herself to get me a friend. I refused multiple requests for forced fun activities and awkward house parties. Until she offered tickets to see the Red Hot Chili Peppers with her. Our friendship bloomed as we spoke of music, movies, and books. All of which I had an abundance of time to absorb. This time it didn't take 12 years. Charlene was much more adept than Peter. It took her 7 months from the concert to ask me what was different about me. I knew too much about too many things, I had too many antiques that were in near mint condition, and I talked frequently about history. I don't know if she was expecting a really close relationship with a grandparent or what, but as the truth slipped through my lips I didn't see malice in her eyes.\n\nShe remained my friend. A feat I had never thought possible. She accepted me, and more importantly believed me. She gave me hope that people in this overly cruel world, can be beacons of hope. She guided me from the rocks of my life to find a safe place. I wish I could have done the same for her. I wish I could have made the ice visible. I wish she would have been wearing her seat belt. I wish that she hadn't been going so fast. I have a lot of wishes. But really now the biggest thing I wish for is that you can see me the way Charlene saw me. I've never told my story to anyone before. Some may say her funeral eulogy isn't the right place, that this should be about her. But what better way to honor her than to tell all of you the truth I shared with her and hope that her guiding power can help you to accept me as she did.", " 300 years ago I was human. My heart would beat. I would bleed if you cut me. I thought about death. I often contemplated many hours the day it would visit, and what it would be like to slip from this life and move onto the next-- if there was one. \n\nI remember the night I made the transition from expecting death to having never to worry about it. \n\nI met a young gypsy woman on my travels through Europe. She had a kiss I wouldn't forget. A kiss that not only passed on the light that now carries my body until the end of time, but a kiss that ensures I remember every moment of it. \n\nAnd now, I sit here today. It's the year 2014. I’m 300 years old. I want those to understand that if you do succumb to a young woman on your travels that passes on a curse that I have, please understand you live not only in a time of abundance but in a time where technology can help bring meaning back into your own existence. \n\nWhat I mean is during the first half of my 300 years, you can imagine I lived in a time that was simple. You read books when you were bored, you visited family, friends, for conversation, and you did your part. I was a blacksmith. That's it. I eventually ran out of books to read, I had to quit my job at the time due to my lack of aging, and eventually all my family died. I was left alone. And then technology hit the human race like a bomb. \n\nI watched it grow, and grow, and grow. I remember the first car. I remember the first computer. I remember the first cell phone. Now, it's the year 2014. I remember a time where it took weeks, even months to travel to places that now only takes an hour or two via aircraft. I enjoy life, because I'm finally living it. Life will lose it's meaning, I think it's supposed to. I spend my time now traveling. I sell my art, thanks to the wonders of the internet. I play against teenagers online with video games; the other day I play Grand Theft Auto and made friends with a man, Jerry was his name. We have a clan. I will continue to watch technology grow, and I will grow with it, because I feel both technology and I need each other. Both of us will be here for a very, very, long time. ", "I first found out I couldn't die at a young age when I fell from a cliff while playing with my brother. I was knocked out for a while but when I had awoken I found that I had suffered no injury. My brother standing over me with tears in his eyes hugged me and apologised over and over. Actually, this wasn't when I found out. At the time I just considered myself very lucky to escape death. A feeling I have wished to be able to have again. \n\nI'm not sure what keeps me ticking, maybe it's a disease , or something supernatural like a curse. When I was 80 I still looked and felt like a young lad in his twenties even though my wife was old and decrepit. Not only that but I looked younger than our children who did not seem to carry my so-called gift. That was such a long time ago now... At present I count myself to be 306 years old although I look like I'm in my early thirties. I've had several wives, all of whom have passed, and I'm not even sure how many progeny I have.\n\nI won't bore you with my entire life story. No, that would take entirely too long and you have such a short life ahead of you that you should go out and enjoy it while you can. As I write this, I'm situated in what most would call an old house. I was there to see it built when it was called new and up-to-date with the times. I'm not far out of the city, just ten minutes by carriage. I'm not writing to tell you about the building however. My story is that of how I came to utterly despise my very own existence. \n\nAt first, finding out you're immortal is fascinating but it slowly eats away at your soul. You live to see everyone you care about slowly wither away to dust. I can't tell you how many loved ones I have laid to rest. How many times I've had to change my entire identity just so that others don't catch on to what I am, whatever I am. How many times I've had to start over with love even though I know I will outlive them. I'm not with anyone now, I've decided to take a break as I've grown tired and weary. I've even given up on working, I've shut myself in away from the outside world. You can do these things when you don't require anything but yourself to live, I can go days without eating and still live. I know that as I've tried to starve myself to death on several occasions. I'm not sure how long I've been cooped up in this house. Days, weeks, months, years, it doesn't really matter. As long as I pay my due taxes the taxman leaves me alone, the house is already fully paid off. Makes you wonder how people normally survive while paying for a house as well a getting taxed, although I have known a few that haven't. \n\nI've devoted most of my time to reading, it's incredible to note how many books from my childhood are still floating about today. I've read books on science, philosophy, art, horror as well as many more. My mind has expanded beyond that of regular people, but 306 years of life experience and books will do that. I suppose immortality is not all bad, it gives a man time to ponder his own as well as others existence. What is humanity if not a race to a goal with an inevitable fate not long after. What is the point if not progress? As I write this to you dear reader, I'm quickly beginning to think that my existence can be proved of use. I have heard about a man in America who is attempting to push humanity in a forward progression. I think I may see if I could be of use to him... I believe his name was Tesla and he was working with something I have read a fair bit about. I'm not sure how long this upswing of mine will last, but I certainly must use my motivation to help you and your future kin.\n\n\n----\n\nSorry it isn't that good, it's my first short story in a long time. Plus, it's rather late and I should sleep and as a mortal I should be well rested. If anyone can give tips on writing then please do go ahead. Writing was a childhood passion of mine that faded into obscurity with age and now I'm trying to get back into it to see where it takes me. " ]

[ 1, 1, 1 ]

[ "1417744423", "1417746147", "1417746867" ]

[ "No fucking way. I'm not doing this, I blatantly refuse. I have so much to do. I have finals this week, I gotta go send off my rent, and a whole load of other shit. \n\nOkay. Guess I'm doing this. I could probably use a new jacket, this Chattanooga weather is getting less mild with each passing day. It'll probably flip tomorrow, I'll hold off on the jacket. Fuck, why is this street so short? Goddamn, okay, here I go. Into the woods. To meet an old man. God, feet, stop carrying me. Give out. Turn me around. This is crazy. Why are the damn leaves so loud? Christ. \n\n\"You think too much, Sebastian.\"\nOhfuckohfuckohfuck he knows my name-\n\"Calm down. I'm here to tell you something.\" I'm not scared at all. Did I just piss? Dear God respond with something clever. \n\n\"DO YOU KNOW WHO THE FUCK I THINK I AM?\" Oh shit that wasn't what I wanted. I remember when we were normal. We'd be napping or getting lunches ready for the kids. \n\n\"It's true, isn't it? Look at you, boy. You look a mess. I'm not sure if that's ribs on your shirt or some poor sod. Tell me, is there anyone in there?\" \n\nYes, there is. \n\"I AM ALONE.\" No you aren't, you stupid fuck. I'm here. \n\n\"Sebastian, please. Come with me. We can make this all better.\" Do it, you fucking idiot. \n\n\"I AM FREE.\" God's will be damned, someone kill me before the laughing starts. \n\n\"HAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHA.\" You sound broken, friend. He can tell. You should take care of him. Erase him, and we can be normal again. \n\n\"Sebastian, please. Don't do this.\" Do what? It's just a hug. No one will ever know about my hugs. ", "It’s been so long since I’ve got a letter. With all of the chaos that’s going on in the world you forget about the little things. I’ve lived alone in this forsaken land for so long I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to speak with me, and honestly I haven’t spoken in such a long time I’m not sure I would have the ability.\n\nI keep to myself, tending to my chickens and the fields. The lakes have become dangerous, so swimming and fishing have become impossible. I’m not able to go to the market district anymore to trade goods, for the capital has been taken by dark forces, and the trade routes have been cut off. \n\nIt wasn’t but a few years ago that everything fell apart. I was working at a ranch for a portly man helping his daughter milk cows, gather eggs, and tend to the horses. The man was a bit lazy, but he was kind enough to give me a job when everyone else turned their backs on me. His daughter was a beautiful girl with the most calming voice you’ve ever heard. You could hear her singing late into the night, it was a captivating song that would cause all of the animals on the ranch gather around her. She was beautiful in the moonlight. \nEverything changed when the capital fell to the hands of evil. The ranch was handed over to new owners who banished the first chance they got. I hope to see my friends again, but it seems dark times have fallen on everyone. \n\nSo, you can see why getting a letter these days is odd. No one knew where I am, so how did this letter appear on my doorstep? Should I follow the directions in the letter, or should I ignore them and run? No, I will not run. I’m tired of running. This is my home, and I will fight for it. \n\nI’ve gathered a few things in a pack to take with me, just in case things decide to go south. The end of the road is about an 8 hour walk from my house, and there is no telling how far into the forest I need to walk. I make it to a small cave just around nightfall where I see the faint glow of fire. Just as described I find an old bearded man sitting between 2 torches with a scroll in his hands. As I reach for the scroll my left hand starts to throb in pain, but I must figure out why I’m here. The scroll is beaten and tattered with nothing on it but the royal family’s crest, which seems to be glowing. I feel like I’ve been chosen for a task bigger than myself, but what could it be? As I turn to leave I see the man now has a sword in his hands. Silently I hear “it’s dangerous to go alone, take this”. \n", "You go and then get arrested for outstanding warrants.", "It was weird. I mean, *No*-one went into the woods, not anymore. It was damn near a health and safety issue. \n\nEver since construction had started on the smaller hillocks and bogs surrounding them, everyone knew it was just a matter of time. Most all people celebrated the news, as they had been a source of many a camping trip gone wrong, and there was longstanding rumor of vile things lurking that even the most skeptical only denied halfheartedly. 'The Goodwoods.' The older folk of the town had named it out of sentiment, now the younger adopted it out of irony. Out of necessity. It didn't half loom over the town.\n\nThe diggers had already started moving in on the edge of the creeping forest, the only thing stopping them the brave hill that bordered the road out of town. Even that had it's back to the woods. Construction was proving slow, and if you asked anyone again after they'd insisted it was due to laziness, they'd shift their eyes and clam up. It was common knowledge that the place had an... odd effect on people.\n\nSo this letter, as you can imagine, was an unwelcome one;\n\n\"Go to the end of the street and walk into the woods. There will be an old man waiting there. (Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200.) Await further instructions.\"\n\nMonopoly. I never played Monopoly. Didn't have a family really. Well, Edna'd get real mad if she heard me say that, but I mean, *we* never played it.\n\nI head out the door. And for the first time since I can remember, I lock it.\n\nThe way to the woods ain't far, 10 minute walk from home on a slow day. The problem is the moor that traps you just before it. Any path that may have been trampled into the waist-high grass in my parents' time was long gone, and if you got sucked in, you weren't getting out on your own easily. Or quickly. Fat Jimmy took a good ten minutes of heaving before the earth finally relented. Not relented, 'spat him out' would be more accurate. Popped an ankle right out. Right baby he was.\n\nWhen I reach the moor, I put all my necessaries in my shirt pockets, habits from when I was a kid. Keys and phone in the left, the playful eerie-as-all-hell letter in the right one. I try not to notice the right feels heavier. I roll up my pants and make sure my rain boots won't get sucked out at the first sign of tug. No less than three pairs of socks this time, I remember needing, like, five just to have them not fall off every step. Not sure how I feel about that. Glad, I suppose.\n\nI make my way into the bog, treacherously. There's no real threat of leeches or ticks or anything like that, despite what people claim no-one's had any cases the entire time it's been here. Well, that I know of. \n\nI trudge faster, keeping to tufts that I know are solid, some that I suspect. If somewhere looks uncertain, I carve a whole nother path round. Unsexy as caution is, it gets the job done, I'm at the first trees within the hour. They look somewhat displeased.\n\nI savour what I know to be my last fresh breath for a while, and go in. Moss claws at the trunks of oaks, kids begging their parents for that one toy. Once I get far enough in that light dims, I can no longer name most of the trees, and any of the fungi. I begin calling out. Some calls, though not limited to;\n\n\"HEY!\" \"HEY, LETTER GUY!\" \"HEY, ANY OLD MEN IN HERE?!\" \"HEY, MAN I GOT YOUR LETTER!\" \"COME ON OUT GODDAMMIT!\"\n\nThe calls descend into the profane, unheard. I'm beginning to empathize with that one tree that fell in the forest, when I get a reply. \n\n^^\"Turn ^^around.\"", "“When was the last time you felt something? I don’t mean the last time you got cut off in traffic and swore at the other driver. I don’t mean the last time you went on a date and waited anxiously afterwards for a phone call that didn’t come. I mean really felt something. I mean had your blood pressure spike so high that you felt like you were going to pass out. I mean you seriously questioned if you were going to die. I mean **really** felt something. You can’t answer can you? Go to the end of the street and walk into the woods. There will be an old man waiting there. He will show you another way.”\n\nThis letter had come sandwiched between a note from my bank summarizing the last month’s activity, and the phone bill. There was no return address, and no name listed anywhere. I wanted to brush it off and trash the letter. It was probably some prank by a neighborhood kid who had learned to open my mailbox. Except it was right. I couldn’t remember the last time I had really felt something. There was probably nothing waiting for me in the woods, except maybe a kid with a squirt gun, but I was willing to risk it.\n\nI grab a jacket and head outside. It’s getting cold out. There is snow forecasted for tomorrow. I feel a biting chill from the wind, and grab some gloves and a hat too. As I head down the street I really hope there isn’t some kid with a water balloon. You could get hypothermia from getting wet in this weather.\n\nI reach the edge of the woods, and grit my teeth as I walk through. I expect a cold splash on the back of my at any moment. At least for the first few steps I do. Then I develop a sense of wonder at the woods. I’ve driven past them countless times on my way to work, but I’ve never actually set foot inside them before. I wonder what’s back here.\n\nI here a splash and a cry for help ahead. Someone’s fallen into a lake of some sort. I run ahead and sure enough the trees give way to a lake, and an old man desperately splashing as he tries to stay afloat.\n\n“Help!” He shouts again. I barely register the bridge he must’ve fallen from as I shed my jacket and dive in. He’s about fifty meters out and I’ve got to be quick. With his poor circulation he’s probably only got seconds before he starts losing toes to the cold.\n\nBurn me is this water freezing! I involuntarily stop breathing as the water feels like it’s choking me, trying to force itself into my lungs, but I was a lifeguard in my youth, and resiliently begin to stroke my way out to the old man.\n\nI’m about ten meters away when his head ducks under. Oh no, the water’s deep. If he falls very far I’ll never be able to catch him, and if he inhales any water it’ll damage his lungs for sure. I desperately close the distance to the epicenter of his ripples, and dive down. I close my eyes and blindly feel for something. My hands brush aside algae that has been growing in the stagnant water, nothing. How could he have sunk so far?\n\nI kick with my legs to propel myself even further down. He’s been under twenty seconds at this point. Seriously, were there rocks in his pockets? Come on old man, give me something.\n\nHe’s been under almost forty seconds, and my own lungs are starting to burn. My body tries to reflexively breathe in the surrounding water and I’m choking out bubbles. I take one last searching swipe with my arms, and brush a coat. The old man!\n\nI loop an arm under his shoulder and start stroking furiously. He’s been under almost a full minute, and I can’t tell if he’s unconscious and therefore drowning. He’s limp in my arms. It doesn’t look good.\n\nWe break the surface and I kick like crazy for the shore. I tilt his head back and out of the water. His eyes are closed and there’s water dripping from his mouth. Not good signs.\n\nI pull him onto the shore. Okay, ABCs. Airway, breathing circulates, clearly his airway is blocked by water. I find his sternum and start compressing. Water starts ejecting from his mouth in spurts. Clearly still clogged, keep compressing. I think I feel something crack. He’s going to have some broken ribs.\n\nHe coughs violently and sits up. Oh thank god. I thought I had just pulled a corpse out of the water. I grab my phone and dial 911. As I’m informing the dispatcher where I am and what I need the old man reaches into his jacket and pulls out a letter that appears to be water proofed somehow.  What on earth?\n\nI thank the dispatcher and hang up.\n\n“Ambulance is coming. You’re going to be fine.” I tell the old man. He continues to cough and gestures for me to open the letter. Really confused, I open the letter. Inside is a piece of paper with a single sentence.\n\n“Well done, await further instructions.”\n\nSolid prompt OP 10/10 would respond again.", "*Go to the end of the street and walk into the woods. There will be an old man waiting there.* \n\n\nI re-read the letter. It was an actual letter, like the ones the mail carriers deliver. It was postmarked from Newark, NJ. I glanced up, there was no woods at the end of my street, there never had been. I flipped the piece of paper over, looking to see if there were additional instructions, there were none. Just out of curiosity I walked to the end of my street, it ended at Meadowlark Lane, I looked across Meadowlark lane, I could see the brick house across the street, but no woods. Woods were hard to find in the suburbs. I looked down at the letter and noticed a postscript, written in tiny letters at the bottom of the first page: \n*P.S. keep going the woods are just around the corner.*\n\n\nI turned left onto Meadowlark Lane and kept walking. I can’t explain why, maybe it was the lack of job prospects for an aspiring photojournalist, maybe it was the fact that it was a beautiful day and the walk felt good, but I turned that corner and walked the length of Meadowlark Lane. I turned right on Overlook drive, because it felt right, and walked past the high school. It was football season and I could see the players practicing. I smiled; I remembered high school, when I thought I was a good enough football player to play in college. I wasn’t. I kept walking, still no woods. At the end of overlook I turned left, this time onto Stafford Rd, there used to be woods here, before the construction of the condo complex. They had called the condo complex *Woodview Estates*, but there were no woods, just rows of identical gray condos. \n\nBy this time, I was a few miles from home and I felt good. The sun was shining, so I just kept walking, the letter tucked into my backpack next to my camera. Stafford Rd wound its way down towards the river and two hours later I was still walking, still no woods, but enjoying the day. At some point I had turned onto Riverside drive, and I could see the dome of the museum across the river but still, I kept walking. I was downtown then, walking through Riverside Park. I took a left on Pine St, because even though the woods were long since gone from downtown, it seemed ironic to walk down Pine St. looking for the woods. \n\n\nPine St. was short and so I turned right on 5th ave, and walked to the end again, it was later afternoon by now, the sun had sunk a little lower, but it was still warm and my feet didn’t hurt yet. At the end of 5th ave I came to the train station. I had to pee, so I turned to go into the train station but before I went into the train station, I glanced across the street at the back of the huge grey post office building; and old man was perched atop the building smiling and waving at me. I blinked and he was gone, perhaps just a figment of my imagination.\n\n\nI used the horrible public restroom and was wondering what I would do next. I still hadn’t found the woods, I *may* have found the old man (I was not sure if the figment of my imagination counted), and I certainly didn’t feel like going home. I looked up at the train schedule, there was a train north leaving in fifteen minutes. I couldn't tell you why then, and I still couldn't tell you why today, but I bought a ticket, and got on the train. My phone was out of battery by now, but I wasn’t worried, I had no family and my friends were used to me disappearing for days to go take photos somewhere. \n\n\nThe train rushed north, winding through the woods, and at the last stop, I got off. I had been here before, I just wasn’t quite sure when. Everything looked familiar, maybe it was from a photo book, maybe it was from a dream, I didn’t know, but it was dark now, so I got a room at a hotel near the train station. I was tired after my journey, but I couldn’t sleep. I kept taking the letter out of my bag and re-reading it. I hadn’t found an old man or the woods yet, but the post script kept speaking to me, urging me to keep going. In the morning I kept going.\n\n\n\nLeaving home and going north was my first adventure. Many more followed. Like the time a grizzly shit in my tent, or when the Chechnyan rebels kidnapped me for ransom. I don't know why, but I never returned home, I just kept going. \n\n\n\nI found a tattoo in Tibet, and a wife in Iceland. I found my courage in Lesotho and my fear in Malta, I found hate in France and my history in Arkhangelsk, but I never found the woods, nor the old man. I do not regret a single day, I have not only seen the world, but been a part of it. I have lived on the kindness of strangers in strange places, and today, after the long adventure, I am going back home.\n\n\nI am on that same train I left on fifty years ago and my wife is sleeping in the seat next to me. This time i'm traveling south. Outside the window it all seems familiar, the thinning houses replaced by the evergreens. There are fewer trees now than there used to be. Its dusk outside as the train rushes past the woods, the green trees turn purple in the fading light. I take the letter out of my bag, and switch on the overhead light. The letter is yellowed and the writing is cracked and worn. I can still make out the first line about the woods and the old man, but the postscript has faded to a gray smudge, the letter no longer urges me to *keep going*. \n\n\nI look up, out the window, and see my reflection on the glass, an old man staring out at the woods beyond. \n\n\n" ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 6, 6 ]

[ "1417793383", "1417808617", "1417808662", "1417811964", "1417793917", "1417796220" ]

[ "Pierre scanned the sinister figures who had gathered in this dimly lit hall for a rare face to face meeting. He personally took credit for the success formation of the European Disunion. A secret MI6 plan to keep track of the most dangerous and machiavellian criminals to have fled the European jurisdiction. His role was to bring them together here in the United States and secretly sabotage their schemes until MI6 was ready to take them all down. \n\nIt was not an easy line to walk, but so far he'd thwarted most of their machinations, and even the bank robbery, movie star kidnapping and cocaine heists that went ahead were partially mitigated. He did regret the incident with the Statue of Liberty, but to mask cracks forming in his cover story, he’d felt forced to insist \"for French pride\" that the US learn not to take that French gift for granted.\n\n\"Gentlemen, as you know, we have suffered some unfortunate setbacks.\" Pierre began before briefly pausing to look for any hidden clues in the members expressions. Did they know? Had the rumors that the group contained a government spy reached them? He couldn't be sure, but Isabella had some emotional flicker slip past her otherwise well controlled mask.\n\nHe decided it was too risky to ignore the rumor. At least one of the must have heard it, and they'd immediately suspect him. Why had his supervisor forced him to pretend to be French? He'd mispronounced Bordeaux in their first meeting. It was foolish even if such fake identities were common in clandestine circles. And he wasn't convinced it was. Sven, who was sitting to his left, was almost certainly not Norwegian like he claimed, but that example didn't count since Sven, who was unfortunately the only member of the group Pierre was able to find any info on, was also a government agent, from the Czech republic. \"Sven\" was probably the cause of the rumor of government infiltration.\n\nThe pause had gone too long, but the path was clear. Obviously Sven was a liability and to protect the mission, he would have to be thrown to the wolves.\n\n\"We have clearly been sabotaged from the beginning\", he stated with forced calmness. This time Isabella showed more than a flicker, it was open fear. Maybe fear of being arrested, but it didn't seem quite that. The other had all stirred as well, so they had heard the rumor.\n\nPierre turned to face his scapegoat, \"Oui, the rumor is true\", he said, remembering to French it up. \"Sven is a government agent. He is not one of us, he is not even Norwegian\".\n\n\"Ja I knew it! He didn't even know den Glücksburg!\", Burst out Isabella.\n\n\"Den Glücksburg? You insult Italia!\", said a man who had brought a pasta lunch, but was wearing a poncho and sombrero.\n\nOr at least was wearing a sombrero until slapped by Lady Worcestershire. \"Ha, I've waiting to do that! Why are you dressed as a cowboy Mexican while trying to be Spanish? You idiota!\".\n\n\"Okay, okay, Calm down\", said Pierre stepping in between them and finally getting a look at Lady Worcestershire. \"Your Downton Abbey costume is also a little ridiculous. We have the traitor Sven, there's no reason to think there's anything more in our way\".\n\n\"Jo, you're half right\", said Sven dropping a Czech ID on the table and smiling. \"I wasn't very good at this, but neither were you! Lady Worcestershire, I know you're an agent too, we can take them!\"\n\nGuns were drawn and it was spiraling out of Pierre's control, until, before he could retrieve his concealed ID, Sven's ID was joined by the Italian, Spanish and Norwegian’s.\n\n\"Oh, merde!\", Pierre stammered, \"We decapitated the statue of liberty ...\"", "It's funny that you should mention that, because I can I tell you firsthand that this IS actually how it works. Not by coincidence, though. Their bosses may or may not know, but they usually don't. It's all orchestrated by the CIA. Has been since the early 70s. Well, it was born from an old tactic used initially under Grover Cleveland's office - but for a slightly different purpose. I know, because I once played a role in the operation. I was a mere analyst; but I know enough for that to not really matter all that much. \n\nWe plant people into positions of power in the poor communities in order to create chaos among them. To weaken their voice within society and keep them unorganized, even at each other's throats, enough to never be able to grow their own strength. And something I hate to admit, but... as well as helping to solidify divides between races; which helps with the former goals, while also maintaining the \"desired\" statuses of peoples in the country. It certainly helps curb truly organized crime, at least. \n\nIn truth it has nearly never had anything to do with finding \"real\" gang leaders. Not since the 40s, at least. And even then, such methods proved pretty ineffective. Those types of people are generally smart enough to be cautious about who they let in on what secrets. Plus, not only do they seldom exist anymore, but they aren't often capable of becoming a real threat. ...As if anyone would even really give a shit about them, regardless. \n\nThe moles can't know that they're purpose is to keep the people at bay. Not only would many object or refuse, but such information simply cannot become public. It's too hard to manipulate people when they know they're being manipulated, you know? Further, the political windfall from such information would simply be too much. \n\nSo, instead, we convince cops that they're there to unearth the roots of some evil. Act as if some local drug lord is actually some major burden for us. (Let you in on another secret: we supply those drugs for much the same reasons as stated above) Cops work out quite well, too, since they're already trained to command authority and hold their ground well in tense situations. Turns out they usually make for great leaders. \n\nAnyways, what prompted me to reveal this is that we were once nearly outed when a situation *nearly identical* to your WP. \n\nI don't recall many of the details anymore. It's been a long time now. But, the previous gang leader had been shot by the cops (in his own PD no less - but they didn't know, so don't blame them) leaving us a void that needed to be filled before someone from the street took it, leaving us in a more limited capacity to control the situation. But, like all government agencies, we had a situation of right-hand not talking to the left. And, before you knew it, we had not 2, or even 3, but FOUR cops vying for that role. 2 had already been in place as middlemen in the operation, and the other 1 was brought in by another department to try and fill the role from the outside (always bad a move, I don't know what they were thinking) and the 4th the leader of a rival gang, who was tasked with trying to take over the area. \n\nAt some point one of them decided to call a meeting, thinking it would help him gain more intel about both gangs, and over the course of the meeting they apparently became suspicious of each other, and began having each other followed. \n\nOnce they figured out what had happened the situation actually became worse for us. They were no longer creating the havoc in the streets that we needed. It's makes sense, though: could you order assaults against a fellow police officer? \n\nThe one middleman and the outsider were re-assigned fairly early on; since it no longer made sense to run the operation, since the guy they were after was himself a cop... And the police departments found themselves at odds on what to do with the current gang leaders. If they reassigned them surely another would come to fill their places, and then they would just need to plant moles all over again; but, it didn't make sense for them to keep their current moles in place since there turned out to be no real leader to bust... \n\nTheir discussing the details of this situation put us on high alert. Neither of them could know that we were pulling their strings. It would raise too many questions. We had one outed for having an affair - forcing his resignation - and the other promoted and moved to another department; making the whole ordeal no longer his problem. We planted one of our own operatives in the rival gang and had him bust the undercover for the real crimes that he had committed (they are still accountable). And, before you knew it there was no one left who would bother questioning what had happened. \n\nIt's great that I can finally get all of this off of my chest. More so, since I know this will never be taken seriously in this setting, and with my username ;)", "They were ten minutes into the meeting and they'd all barely said a word. What the Hell was wrong with them all? This was the biggest meeting of them all; the one where they would figure out the allocation of assets from the deal with the Pakistani poppy farmers.\n\nThe room was pretty big; it was actually a nice setup. Wu had used his party influence to book a pretty nice conference room just outside Canton for the event. There were 24 of them sitting around the round table, and bright lights looked down on them.\n\nThey had to pass a resolution eventually, and when they did, every member of the cartel would have to sign, at which point they would all be unquestionably guilty enough to be tried and convicted in any country on earth. When Johann gave the signal, his agents would overpower the perimeter guards and seize the room from the south side double doors. There were also northern doors, but they left those open specifically because knowing who would try to flee was important for the case. There were plainclothes agents guarding all hallways leading to the northern doors, and plainclothes agents guarding all entrances to the building anyway.\n\nFinally the Indian man with the unpronounceable name proposed a draft resolution that was universally agreed upon, and it went around the table, to be signed by representatives from the Cartel from every country.\n\nJohann was the last signatory, and as he signed, he remarked \"You know, some toaster strudel sounds pretty fetch right now.\"\n\nThe words \"toaster strudel\" triggered a sequence of events which would lead to the South door being thrown open and German agents training their guns on the members of the committee before arresting them.\n\nBut something was wrong... Five seconds passed... Nothing. Then seven seconds. There was a commotion outside, and Johann glanced over to see hundreds of armed men streaming out of buildings and taking up defensive positions. *Holy shit; did they know we were coming?* Something was very wrong. The other cartel members could clearly hear the commotion which was now getting closer and could be heard faintly throughout the building, but they seemed to be pretending otherwise.\n\nWhen the first gunshot rang out outside, the delegates moved into action; some of them ran to the window to look at the situation; others ran towards the far wall, some stayed put, others drew guns in preparation, and one hid under the table as more shots rang out outside. Without warning, the ceiling tiles on the south side of the room broke open, and people in military uniform descended into the room, and seconds later the north side tiles broke open and a number of men dressed in all black fell through into the room. In the midst of the shouting, guns were pointed at everyone by everyone, when suddenly the entire window was shattered at once by a group of men in full SWAT gear, who immediately pushed the table over and took cover against the first volley of shots from the other side of the room.\n\nA few seconds after the second group had dropped from the ceiling, one of the men in black began shouting in every language he knew \"Don't shoot! Nicht schießen! Waffen nieder, Waffen nieder! Не стреляйте!\", but he was knocked over by when the wall behind him, opposite the window, collapsed to reveal a fourth SWAT team. When the light hit the other room, they realized that they had actually been in the same room as another team, and they immediately pointed their guns at everyone as well, and people also began simultaneously streaming in from the north and south doors, but by then the rest of the men on the squad of the man who had been knocked over had picked up on what he realized, and taken up his call and put their hands up.\n\nPinned between three Special forces operatives, trying to put his hands up but unable to move because the room was so crowded, that is when Johann realized what had happened. *Shit. Are you fucking kidding me? We already did the fucking delivery, too.*\n\nAnd that is the story of how the governments of Germany, China, Russia, Ireland, the United States, South Africa, Egypt, India, Japan, Thailand, Mexico, Brazil, Algeria, Venezuela, Argentina, Pakistan, Turkey, Iran, Australia, France, The United Kingdom, Italy, Canada, and Belarus organized and carried out the delivery of ten million grams of heroine to their respective countries.", "Diego was taking his time about it. And that was another reason why I hated him. Such a lazy fuck, never wanted to do any actual work, like killing an informant, beating the shit out of someone to get information, or (as in this case) shooting Uri in the head.\n\nUri deserved it. The dumbfuck had slept with Dieter's girlfriend, and that messed up the unity of our group. We'd agreed from the start to stand by each other, as brothers, looking out for one another, but that Uri couldn't keep his dick in his pants, and ever since then everything was messed up. Of course Dieter was pissed. Especially when James stupidly admitted that he'd always wanted to do her as well. We'd almost come to blows then, but eventually we agreed that Uri had to go, and then we'd move on and never speak of this again.\n\nDiego had to do it. He had the lowest kill count of any of us. But he was taking his fucking time. There was Uri, kneeling right in front of him, fucking do it already! We were out here in the middle of the desert, and the dry dust was starting to get to me. God, I needed a drink.\n\nRaphaël stepped forward, and in his stupid French accent, volunteered to do the job himself. For god's sake this was getting stupider by the minute. I looked across at Dieter, who just rolled his eyes in exasperation. It was only a test! The automatic we gave to Diego wasn't even loaded. We just wanted to see if he was committed to the group or not. My job was to kill Diego if he was a coward. Either way, I would then kill Uri. We didn't actually trust Diego enough to give him a loaded gun in a time of stress. He got a bit unpredictable sometimes.\n\nI almost turned the Uzi on Raphaël right there and then, and maybe would have if Duong and Aadhithya hadnt stepped forward to pull him back and shut him up.\n\nDiego seemed to get his nerve back and stated \"no, its all right, I'll do it,\" and moved a bit forward to place the gun right on Uri's head.\n\nUri spoke up unexpectedly. \"Just for the record, I'm an undercover cop.\" Shocked and stunned, we were. Nobody said anything as Uri went on. \"I know I wont survive, but I've supplied enough evidence by now to put you all away before long. The raid will be soon.\"\n\nThat was too much for Diego, who broke down. He dropped the gun and collapsed on the ground saying \"Me too. I cant live like this anymore.\"\n\nUnbelievability, as if a cork had been pulled, everyone else started flapping their lips and confessing to having been undercover. Even Tông and Kwang-Sun, who I never would have guessed in a million years. Out here in the desert, the gang started to act like long lost brothers, exchanging names, stories and places. Big hugs, big smiles, big laughs for all.\n\nBut I hadn't said anything, and eventually, among all the revelry, they slowly realized... and turned to me with caution and hands on guns.\n\n\"FBI,\" I said, and their faces turned to smiles once more.\n\nDiego came over to me to shake my hand, and I raised the Uzi and shot him in the neck. Lazy fuck, I'm not your friend. As he hit the ground, I dealt with the rest of them in the same way, leaving Raphaël for last. Somehow, Raphaël had gotten the unloaded gun and was trying to shoot me with it. What an idiot. Retarded cheese eating surrender monkey, deserves a round in the face. So I did. One round. Doesn't deserve any more than that.\n\nA few moments more to survey my work and make sure none had survived, and it was back across the sand to the helicopter. As I sent the coded message over the radio I allowed myself a smile. It was a messy ending, but it's going to be not only my last day working undercover, but also worth a huge promotion. The rest of the team will recover the money and drugs and the haul will make the front page of tomorrows newspaper, and please a very large number of politicians.\n\nAnd the other agents? Plausible deniability. Their agencies will complain, but its not like I ever knew they were undercover cops. As I waited for backup, I lit a cigarette and started wording the false report in my head. \n", " Today seemed to be the day. I filed my lungs with the crisp morning air as I began to load my equipment out of my van. Everything seems in order, my mic was set, GPS functioning, and radio intact. \n \n “are you ready sir, over”\n \n “roger that lets get this show on the road, over”\n\n Its now or never. The pressure feels overwhelming but at the same time I’m oddly calm. I trust my team and I know we’ll pull through but that still does not provide much assurance. These guys are natural born killers and ruthless, anything could go wrong. I took a deep breath and quelled my troubled thoughts, we are going to win today, there’s no room for failure, I told myself as I began to walk.\n \n An abandoned warehouse stood alone in the middle of a field, its’ towers climbing the skies as a looming reminder of the past. Bricks and window shards littered the floor. This factory had obviously seen better days. Graffiti was scrawled all over the walls, reading “SAVE THE ENVIRONMENT, PROTECT EARTH!” and “THIS IS THE ONLY PLANET WE GOT”. Ugh those damn hipsters. Always going on about the environment, but they are the first to buy anything apple shits out. That’s not important right now, man focus! You’re about to bust the most notorious gang in the fricken U.S. get your head in the game! \n \n As I approach the door I run into a fellow gang member. He was short but stocky, and was covered with tattoos. His nose appeared to be crushed, a testimony to his fighting skill. Okay keep your cool you can do this, just say something,\n\n “Nice weather were having eh?” I say cheerfully \n He squints at me and replies with a grunt. What the hell man, you’re a gang banger! Gang bangers don’t make conversations about the weather! And it’s not even fucking nice, its cold! Stupid! Stupid … \n\n“After you”\n \n I look up to see the man opening the door for me. Well damn he’s not so bad, who says gang bangers weren’t nice! I walk through, thanking the nice man and continue down the hallway. As the man behind me closed the door, the hallway turned pitch black. The only light present was omitting from the other end of the hallway. I couldn’t help but feel trapped in a tunnel, walking towards the light, slowly walking towards the light, slowly getting brighter, then black.\n \n I woke up disoriented, piercing lights assaulted my eyes. What the hell is going on? I tried to rub my head but I couldn’t. I glanced at my hand to find I was restrained. Holy shit they know. They know I’m under cover! Shit! Did they find my wire and radio? I look around the room to see a large oak table with thirteen scowling men sitting about. One of them stood up and began to approach me. His eyes threatening, snake tattoo around his neck, gun held tightly in his hand, walking tensely towards me, he then said in a raspy voice,\n \n “How’s it goin … Officer!?” \n\n The room erupted with laughter, their eyes never wavering, staring into my soul.\n\n“We always knew. Did you really think you were fooling anyone? I knew from day one! Didn’t I tell you silent P!”\n\n“Yea, but I didn’t believe you, I thought you was straight man!”, which was surprising as silent P never spoke. \n\n The man with the gun came right to my face, with his gun inches away from my skull, \n\n“You messed with the wrong gang, any last words?”\n\n My heart froze. So this is it isn’t it? This is where I die, at the hand of these murders. The gun pressed harder against my head, he was growing impatient and I could tell he was about to pull the trigger. I squeezed my eyes shut. Goodbye Annabelle. The gun discharged.\n\n\n What happened next was bizarre and almost unbelievable. I opened my eyes to the pleasant surprise of being alive and surrounded by swat. They shot the door down and poured into the room screaming and baring their weapons, pointing them at the members. There seemed to be an overwhelming amount of swat teams, in fact too many. At second glance these swat teams all had different country flags and slight variations on their uniforms. As the room was filled to the brim with swat, the confusion and mayhem continued for five minutes until the room came to a silent halt. The members, standing from their seats, looked around, dazed with their hand towards the sky. The man with the gun to my head began to untie me.\n \n “Sorry about that mate, the names John, I was under cover and had no choice but to play along till my back up showed up, thought for a second I might have had to kill you to save my cover!” \n \n “Wait, you’re under cover too? And Australian?” I asked in disbelief.\n \n “Yes, and it took some bloody hard work to disguise this accent of mine. It seems that the mission has failed, and all this work was for naught, might as well arrest these fuckers now.” \n\nI glanced at the other members as they all seemed in shock. One of them spoke out in a deep Russian accent,\n \n “Wait, wait, I am secret service too, from mother Russia. I was sent to stop the smuggling of contraband from dis organisation!”\n\nAnother member chimed in\n \n “Yeah eh? I’m a secret agent too, and I’m also here aboot the illegal drugs too, eh.”\n\n Slowly but surely all the members of the notorious gang confirmed that they were in fact all under cover. After verifying all their badges numbers, I couldn’t help but laugh. The most notorious, ruthless gang of all of America was comprised of the most elite service men of the world! But if we comprised the gang who was selling the drugs, who created the reputation? Did we all actually take part in gang activity in order to trick each other unknowingly becoming the gang? Are we all the real gang members? That’s enough for one day I’m going home now to kiss my wife Annabelle. I’m coming home.\n", "Jackie hid behind the barricaded door as the cops beat on the walls and screamed for him to come out. \n___\n\n*Two hours earlier in the house...*\n\nSherlock handed the metal rod to Caribou.\n\n\"Here's a crowbar, you two start ripping boards up off the floor and nailing them over the doors and windows. That'll keep them from getting in so easy and give as another way out if shit really goes south.\" \n\n\"Goddamn Sherlock, you mean to tell me shit *ain't* went south yet?\" Caribou took the crowbar with a shaky hand as beads of sweat poured off his bald head.\n\n\"We made it back to the house didn't we?\" said Sherlock. \"They could have just shot all of us on site.\"\n\n\"No, \" said KFC, \"instead we haul ass out of there with a mother fucking tracking device on the truck. The same truck that has over ninety kilos of coke in the bed and is parked out front as we speak.\"\n\n\"Look, how the fuck was I supposed to know that it was a bust?\" Sherlock still had blood on his shirt from carrying Habanero into the bedroom. \n\n\"You know, come to think of it, you didn't *seem* so surprised motherfucker.\" said KFC.\n\n\"Goddammit KFC, we don't have time for this shit! Those county cops will be here in less than an hour. Let's get the goddamn windows boarded up. There'll be plenty of time for bitching and moaning later.\"\n\nCaribou slammed the crowbar down deep into the floorboards of the old abandoned house they had been squatting in since all this started. He pulled and jerked furiously for a moment before his skinny little arms gave up. He let go and turned his attention back to Sherlock before KFC could say anything.\n\n\"And just what the fuck are you going to do while we're in here busting our asses trying to keep those cops out?\" he said.\n\n\"I got some questions for Habanero.\" Sherlock said as he picked up a pair of rusty wire pliers.\n\n\"I don't know,\" said KFC shaking his head, \"I seen that motherfucker do some serious shit during his initiation. Ain't no way he's a snitch.\"\n\n\"We'll find out, won't we.\" said Sherlock, testing the wire pliers menacingly.\n\n\"Sherlock, he's in the bedroom with a goddamn bullet in him.\" said Caribou. \"The son of a bitch can't tell you anything if he's not conscious.\" \n\n\"Both of you get to work.\" said Sherlock. \"I'll be back in here to help you in just a few minutes.\"\n\n\n___\n\n*Across town, thirty minutes ago...*\n\n\"They shot Thomas. Jesus Christ, they fucking shot Thomas.\" Alan was shaking in the passenger seat of the cruiser as he loaded his gun.\n\nVictor kept his eyes peeled ahead as he sped through heavy traffic with the siren on.\n\n\"It was an accident, \" he said, \"they're from Wilson county - they had no idea he was an undercover agent. When he pulled the gun, they thought he was one of the Scrotes.\"\n\n\"Those Wilson county fucks are insane.\" Alan looked over to Victor, \"I had no idea their department had the budget for machine guns and grenades. Especially after all the reprimands from last year, what with harassing civilians and shit.\"\n\n\"Well, having those automatic weapons allowed them to take out at least five members of the gang right there on site. Too bad those goddamn Scrotes managed to snag Thomas and take him back with them.\" said Victor. \"After today, you can bet your sweet ass the chief is going to be putting in a request for AK47s and body armor for us as well. And I don't blame him.\"\n\n\"Ok, the beacon is saying turn right up here on Seville street.\" said Alan looking at the GPS and pointing to two small blue dots. \"Looks like Wilson is on their way there too... along with Harrison and Yakima County police. Jesus, when's the FBI getting here?\"\n\n___\n\n*Back at the house...*\n\n\"Look, I know you're one of us now.\" Sherlock was back in the bedroom pouring some antiseptic solution onto the wound in Habanero's gut and squeezed some of the blood from his shirt over the pliers. \"I heard them call your name... it's *Thomas*, right? Detective Thomas Schillings, from Wilson County?\"\n\nHabanero just groaned and flashed his eyes at Sherlock briefly.\n\n\"It's alright, you don't have to say anything. I'm gonna get us both out of here.\"\n\nA shout came from the front of the house. It was Caribou.\n\n\"Hey, what the fuck is going on back there? We've almost got the doors and windows boarded up. Thought you were coming to help?\"\n\nThe bedroom door opened and Sherlock emerged with the bloody pliers. \n\n\"Trust me, he's one of us.\" said Sherlock, flashing the pliers at them. \"Ain't nobody around that can keep the truth from these.\"\n\n\"Jesus,\" said Caribou, \"there's blood all over them. Is the son of a bitch still alive?\"\n\n\"Unconscious... again.\" said Sherlock. \n\nKFC emerged from the kitchen with what appeared to be a small black box.\n\n\"Look what I found.\" he said with a cheery smile on his face. Sherlock held back a grimace as he realized what it was.\n\n\"Yup,\" KFC said, \"Police band radio. Let's hear what these motherfuckers are up to.\"\n\nThe radio crackled, sputtered and gave a high pitched squeal before something legible came through the wire.\n\n*... all units... in pursuit... I repeat... all counties in range...*\n\nKFC banged on the side of it, \"Goddamn static.\" \n\n*...hostage situation... I repeat agent taken hostage...*\n\nKFC looked up at the others in confusion.\n\n\"Wait... what?\" he said to Caribou. \"What the fu... Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.\"\n\nThe truth hit KFC like a drunken Colonel at a peace rally. \n\n*He's a fucking cop.* He thought to himself. *We brought Habanero back here... and he's a fucking cop.*\n\nFor KFC, this changed everything, but he had to play it cool.\n\n\"A hostage... an *agent* hostage?\" said Caribou, more sweat pouring down his little bald head. \"So it's true... he, he's a cop?\" Caribou pointed to the door on the back bedroom of the house and reached for his gun.\n\n\"Now, just a second, \" said Sherlock, \"I *assure* you that guy is no cop. He would have told me.\"\n\nCaribou relaxed his grip on the gun in the back of his trousers. \"So, you mean you *don't* want to kill him?\"\n\nKFC, seeing Caribou's reaction and realizing the absurdity of the situation - he had been placed in a gang with a fellow detective without even being aware of it - knew he had to jump in and smooth things out.\n\n\"Whoa, whoa, easy there little fella.\" he said to Caribou, \"That dude back there just took a bullet for every one of us. As a matter of fact, how do we know it ain't you who's the agent? Huh?\"\n\nCaribou, just moments ago concerned that he would have to put lead into these two gang-bangers in order to save the undercover officer in the back room, came back at KFC with the faux aggression tactics he had been taught in training.\n\n\"Back off, motherfucker.\" he said to KFC, as he unzipped his pants. \"Would a fucking cop do this?\"\n\n Caribou dropped his pants and show the scar where his testicles had been removed. \n\n\"Jesus Christ, \" KFC started, but caught himself, \"I mean... yeah of course... we're all Scrotes here. We all get our balls cut off during initiation.\"\n\n\"Um, yeah.\" said Sherlock, backing away. \"We're... you know... so hardcore. That's what makes us the fucking Scrotes. Everybody knows that.\"\n\n\"So, yeah, put your pants back on for Christ's sakes. Ain't nobody want to look at your tiny weiner.\" said KFC, now disgusted by the whole ordeal and wondering how he's going to get himself and Habanero out of there alive.\n\n\"I need to take a piss.\" he said, walking out through the backdoor of the house.\n\n\"Yeah, alright. Well I don't ever want to be questioned again as to my loyalty.\" shouted Caribou as he zipped his pants back up.\n\n*Never in my wildest dreams would I have ever thought I would be thankful for that freak lawnmower incident that happened when I was only sixteen years old.* Caribou thought to himself.\n\n\"Holy shit...\" Sherlock looked through a crack in the wooden board that lay across the window of the living room. He saw a telltale trail of dust billowing up from the old dirt road that led to the house. \"They're here.\"\n\n____\n\n*Outside the house...*\n\nSurprised by the fact that they had arrived first, Victor and Alan sat in their police cruiser and debated about what to do next.\n\n\"So... are we just supposed to run in there by ourselves?\" said Alan. \"Or do we wait for backup?\"\n\nVictor thought for second, then reached into the back of the car and pulled out his bullhorn. He eased out of the car and then aimed the device at the front of the house. But before he was able to say anything, he heard a commotion coming from the inside of the car.\n\n\"Wait, Victor, \" Alan tried to get his attention with a loud whisper, \"Victor!\"\n\n\"Why the hell are you whispering?\" Victor looked inside the cruiser and asked him.\n\n\"Christ, I don't know,\" said Alan, \"but look... in the backyard... looks like one of them is taking a leak.\"\n\nVictor stalked his way around the side of the house to get a better look.\n\n\"What the....\" Victor said to himself when he saw the man. \"Casey... Casey!\"\n\nKFC heard something and turned toward the noise.\n\n\"Victor?\" he said in astonishment when he saw him peeking out around the corner of the house, \"What the fuck are you doing here Victor?\"\n\n\"What am I doing here?\" Victor asked, \"What the fuck are *you* doing here?\"\n\n\"I'm working undercover for the narcotics unit now.\" He explained to Victor. \"Look, you gotta get the hell out of here, there's two members of the Scrotes inside and another detective who is wounded.\"\n\n\"Listen man,\" Victor said with genuine concern chiseled into his face, \"*you're* the one who needs to get the hell out of here. Do you know who's on their way?\"\n\n\"Who?\" \n\n\"Wilson County PD.\" said Victor, nothing more needed to be said.\n\nKFC, or Casey, let his mouth drop as his eyes dilated at the sound of the news.\n\n\"Oh.\" he said solemnly, \"shit.\"\n\n\n(... to be continued...)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]

[ 1, 3, 5, 9, 22, 293 ]

[ "1417906713", "1417906059", "1417903757", "1417904643", "1417895522", "1417894522" ]

[ "\"How's he doing?\" Francesca asked the lab technician. Steve. Stan. Sam? Eh, she'd learn it eventually.\n\n\"He's got the framework in place, just seeding the lattice now.\" The mime in the empty, pristine ceramic chamber sat down crosslegged and began to meticulously place invisible beads at points in the air.\n\n\"Strain isn't too much?\"\n\n\"Don't worry, Lumiere is a professional, he'll signal if he starts to get worn out.\"\n\nThe mime stood up, took hold an invisble cube above his head and began to move it around, slowly rotating it along all three axes simultaeneously. Stan-Steve-Sam glanced down at the instruments in front of him, nodding as a bank of LED's blinked green. \"Lattice seeded, crystal growth within tolerances.\"\n\nThe mime let go of the cube, and stepped back, running his hands along an invisible surface at neck height. Bracing himself, he gave the object a solid push, his feet slipping back on the glossy white floor. Looking around him, he put his hands on his hips and nodded, smiling in satisfaction. He waved to the technician in the observation room, who waved back.\n\"Alright, we're done for today. It'll take another 3 days or so for the QPU to finish calcifying.\"\n\nFrancesca smiled, shaking her head. \"Absolutely incredible.\"\n\nAnd it was - until the tiny grain of diamond crystal in the assembly chamber grew large enough to be visible, no-one would be able to tell that the professional mime had just created the central kernel of a quantum processing unit, the fundamental building block of 21st century computing, using a set of quantum objects out of phase with 4-dimensional spacetime to manipulate matter at the subatomic level. It had taken a few years after the mime rennaisance for the nanotechnology applications of the skill to be discovered, but once they had been, cybernetics had exploded, fully autonomous swarms of robots maintaining sky-rise farms and city blocks and fine-tuning the ecology outside of civilization's population hubs to ensure maximum biodiversity, the dynamically adjusting biomes already beginning to produce some new subtle variations of fauna. And meanwhile humanity was free to expand into space, shielded by structurally perfect ceramics and metals, superconducting conduits channelling power to exotic matter engines and Alcubierre shuttlecraft. An interplanetary post-scarcity republic. Not a utopia perhaps, political tensions were still a real and present concern, but wars were fought with information now, military malware and counter-spyware dancing around each other in the Cloud. 10 people had been killed in international conflicts in as many years (officially at least).\n\nThe mimes had made it all possible. And with their art now enshrined as the most valued and revered skill in known space, they would enjoy their position as humanity's keystone for many generations to come.", " Most people assume we're actors. It makes sense; after all, you have to see to believe, right? But we are not actors. We are just individuals with an ability. We address ourselves as the shifters of reality, but most people know us as mimes. \n\n It's a great gig, the street act. All we have to do lean against a wall, or sit on a box and people throw money at us. We have haters sure, but doesn't any group that fits outside the norm. Of course, the street is small time. Some of us work as bank robbers, hired mercs, or bodyguards. \n\n We can create objects, pull from different planes of reality. We usually leave the objects shrouded, as to not arouse suspicion, but they are still real. Most people don’t think they exist, so they pass on through them. However, these creations can work as shields, for everything from fists to knives to bombs.\n \n I was once a member of a team that would perform daring and dangerous heists, kidnappings, and assassinations. We worked for the highest bidder and killed ruthlessly. We created a name for ourselves, but after years of infamy, the group retired and went their separate ways.\n\n So, dear reader, I beg of you this: The next time you see a silly man in black and white makeup, pretending to be stuck in a large box, just throw some change his way. After all, a mime is a terrible thing to waste." ]

[ 3, 20 ]

[ "1417937522", "1417919333" ]

[ "Barely audible, Jack began to sob. Half-written in blurry edges were the whitewashed lines of a pine crib. The immediate sphere around him was a haze. \n\nHe wished the same was true of the world beyond. Clear as anything he could still see the sparse plains, thick with rubble and shrapnel, and the broken remnants of outlying Baqubah just beyond. Gunfire and artillery echoed in all directions, pierced by shrill cries and baritone barked commands. \n\nHe looked up through tearful eyes as a helicopter roared overhead. The gunfire grew closer. He turned as quickly as his weakened neck would allow to the left, his attention drawn by a small explosion that caused a pillar of dust and debris. Karl was down, his mangled body twisted and bloodied, empty eyes staring, imploring Jack to somehow change what had happened. Jack began to holler in despair. \n\nHe briefly hears his allies approach from the right, but there was another boom, much louder, that left a ringing silence in its wake. He feels the pain as a dozen pieces of metal pierce through his chest and abdomen. He remembers that monotone buzz as landed on his back, facing up into a blue sky smeared with smoke. He screams despite the silence, anything to break the single sound that now tears through his head. The pain, he remembers, has exceeded any known limits and his body is numb through some divine mercy. \n\nHe forces himself to turn to the right, into the familiar face of Michael. His lips are moving as he consoles Jack. “Stay with me.” He says. “We’ll get you home Jack. You’re okay. Everything is okay.” Michael’s face slowly changes to one that is obscure and fuzzy and unrecognisable. The confusion causes Jack to wail even more. \n\n“Is everything ok honey?” Susan asks her husband, sitting up in bed. “Why is Jack so upset?” \n\n“It’s all so new to him. It must be scary. He’s barely a week old.” Nick picked up his new son, who was still inconsolable. \n\nJack opened his eyes. The few inches of unclear, dark fog would clarify in the new few weeks. The traumas that lie beyond would secede and dissipate. He would unlearn and begin again. \n\nBut for now the horrors were still too recent and too vivid, and all he could do was close his eyes, and scream for an end. ", "\"Did you check his diaper?\" Dad asked.\n\n\"Of course I checked his damn diaper, I am not an idiot.\" Mom snapped.\n\nThe baby continued to cry as the figure loomed in the shadows. He shouted louder and his screams seemed painful. His parents didn't understand what was wrong.\n\n\"Does he have a fever?\" Dad was trying to think of anything, they didn't have insurance, he could only find jobs working part time so the companies didn't offer it to him.\n\n\"If he had a fever I would have known, Jesus, do you even use your brain?\" Mom was getting frustrated from not being able to figure out what was wrong with her baby. Her cheek was against the babies forehead, she *would* have felt if the baby was warm.\n\n\"Fine, I give up, you deal with it.\" Dad stormed out of the room, the figure followed him. \n\nThe baby stopped crying.\n\n\"What? Are you mad at daddy too?\" Mom said sarcastically in a baby voice. \"It's ok, I'm mad at daddy, you can be mad with me.\"\n\nThe front door slammed. Headlights peaked through the slit in the curtains in the babies room, tires squealed, and dad was gone. Mom rocked the baby for a bit. \"Daddy will be ok, don't worry sweetie.\"\n\nA few hours later, the baby's father came back. He sat for a few minutes in the driveway with the engine running. It was as if he was about to change his mind and leave again. The vehicle door closed and the front door soon opened. \n\nMom placed the baby back in his crib and headed out to talk to her husband. There was a loud bang, with a bright flash. The baby began crying from the noise. Dad went in to see the baby. He cried louder as the figure was back.\n\n\"It's ok, mommy was a bitch, so daddy fixed it.\" \n\nThe baby was screaming and screaming. The figure's shape was changing, becoming more terrifying as the baby cried. His dad put him back in the crib and walked out of the room. He made a phone call, then another loud bang and flash. The sound scared the baby.\n\nThe neighbors had heard the noises and called the police. They were interviewed and the baby was taken out of the home. A female officer was able to console him. The male officer asked, \"Do you think he will remember this?\" to which she replied, \"God, I sure as hell hope not.\"\n\nThe baby went into the foster care system. He was transferred to a home with a husband and wife. They took excellent care of him until he was adopted a few weeks later by a loving couple. When they got him home he cried frantically.\n\nThey didn't know what to do so they took him to the doctor. When the parents stepped out of the room the baby calmed down. The doctor asked the parents if there was any abuse in the home. They both denied such claims and were highly offended. They left the hospital in an outrage.\n\nThe baby always cried when his adoptive mother tried to put him to sleep. When his adoptive father did he was fine. So his new dad got nap time and bed time responsibilities. One day, the mom was tired of the crying while her husband was at the store.\n\n\"Come on, sweet thing. Momma loves you.\" She reached for a pillow. The figure smiled menacingly." ]

[ 1, 5 ]

[ "1418040700", "1418024163" ]

[ "Everyday was the same. The snow, not white but a filthy, sickening grey stretched into the bleak horizon, blending into an equally grey sky. Every trudge forward was painful, blistered feet struggling to dig into the ashen snow. The surrounding country side never seemed to change, always the same snow, the same twisted trees, the same burnt out skeleton of a cottage.\n\nAround me were faces, too old or too young, worn down by age or wrinkled by fear. The officers, the sinister looking man in civilian clothing, the SS, were always around us, their cruelty the only thing keeping us in a war we did not ask for.\n\nWe did not lose to any army, but to the greed of a heartless dictator and the cold, harsh, Russian winter.", "Burning, the entire world in flame\n\nMelting fingers clawing at the steel belly of the beast\n\nConsumed in my Panzerkampfwagen III\n\nMy body turning to cinders before my boiling eyes\n\nBroiling \n\nSizzling\n\nTorrid fumes of my own cooking flesh \n\nThe world is smoldering\n\nHans screams \n\nScorched vocal cords twang as his soul is ablaze\n\nDragged, dragged, deeper into the steel belly of the beast\n\nMy fiery sinews peel away to reveal incandescent bone\n \nLike blooming May flowers\n\nFurther down we go\n\nFlames leaping \n\nLicking at thee\n\nOh Rosemarie\n\nA lie around my waist to comfort me\n\nInto the belly, of the beast\n", "I joined up for the same reason many men in my town joined: to fight for a proud and unified Germany. We were to be saviors of the world and drivers of the best technology and science around. In a way, we were. The Panzers, the Messerschmitts, the V2, it was all progress. We had pushed to the shores of Normandy and waited.\n\nThen in the early morning the boats came and we opened fire. The men fell like toothpicks, whole boats before they even hit the shore and yet the still came. Their resolve in what should never have been possible was the most heartbreaking and heroic thing I'd ever seen and as we got pushed back again and again, I would ask myself if what I had chosen, if whom I decided to fight for was right. It had to be.\n\nBut we just kept moving back farther and farther and everything seemed to get more desperate. Our unit was moved to the Eastern front and that was when I saw the trains packed with \"workers\". Dear God, those faces. Those looks. This was not the Germany I was promised. This was not the Germany I fought for. This was not my Germany. I don't know if it was mercy or cruel fate that saw me through the end, but every day after I laid down my rifle, I have had to live with the choices I made and the abhorrences I helped to facilitate.\n\nI can see the men muddied, bloodied, laying by the roads, under the bricks of blown out buildings, inside the fences. Whether I'm awake or asleep, their faces remind me of what true madness is.", "It’s ironic, don’t you think, having to pretend to be a Jew after what we did ? \n\nOf course I know what happened. Like everyone else, I didn’t believe it at first.\n\nAdler, yes, Adler, the guard from block A, he used to be an SS, as you know, he’s the one who told me about it. He said I needed to know everything so that you would believe me. So I asked him, and he told me. We would sit together, a couple of times a week, he would tell me the stories, and I would take notes.\n\nOf course, it would have been easier to pay someone off, but I couldn’t afford it. Not anymore. We lost everything during the war. Because my father was a doctor, and my mother’s family owned stores, we weren’t hit too badly after Brest-Litovsk and Versailles. My father was a good man, and a hard worker. He was wounded at Cambrai, and he was young, so he recovered, even though his lungs never really did. Luckily, it was too late in the war for him to be sent back.\n\nNo, he wasn’t a Nazi. He’d seen enough. My mother didn’t like them, either, they thought they were vulgar. Of course, they couldn’t tell me that. But they tried to stop me from joining the youth groups. I didn’t understand. They’d told me to say I wasn’t interested. But I was. So I told the teacher, Fraülein Grüber I wanted to join. They were furious, and they couldn’t show it. But I felt it, and I didn’t understand. I mean, Staatssekretär Von Schirach was her third cousin, once removed, what was there not to be proud of ? Maybe I could be like him, too - after all, it was in my blood, too… One day, when we were out on a field exercise, I told Hanz about it. And that idiot Hanz told Heinrich, because he wanted to suck up to him. And Heinrich told his cousin Fritz, who was jealous of me and Lieselotte, I guess. But I’ll never be sure why he told his father. They came early in the morning. With what they found, Vater was lucky that my mother had some pull, in a way - he was given the choice. He figured he would be more useful on the Eastern front. And he never came back.\n\nShe managed to smuggle herself to Switzerland with Konstanze, we have family there, you see, and they told everyone else he died of pneumonia on the train, of course. The party trusted me now. But I didn’t trust them anymore. I didn’t have another choice than to pretend. And wait for the right time. I got lucky in Poland, many times. We were retreating. A family hid me from the Russians. And then I made my way here. \n\nI was worried I would be arrested if I went back to Germany. And there was nothing left there for me, anyway. Our house is gone. My family is is gone. So I hid, in plain sight. I went to the cafés, went back to university, learned to paint.\n\nWhat do you mean, “just like the Führer” ? Not at all ! The Führer would have had the Schule des Sehens burnt down, and everyone arrested, and I was there studying with the others this summer. Of course, the faculty has been gutted. I mean, Vienna isn’t Freiburg. And yes, of course Heidegger joined the party. At the time, I was as disgusted as anyone else, but I too had to play a part, and I figured he was playing his. Anyway, it isn’t like importing German professors because they can’t find jobs back home bothers the administration, or the Austrians going to Germany bothers us, right ?\n\nYes, I heard that some of your guards had come back as well, I heard about Adler. He’s a smart man. He kept the numbers of those whom you registered, but died after you liberated the camps. Of course, he made sure the bodies couldn’t be found. Quite a miraculous recovery some of them made, don’t you think ? But the truth is, there is no other choice for people like me. Because of what happened with my father, Mutti never replied to the letters I sent her. Konstanze, either. So I don’t have a family anymore. Here, there is no future.\n\nOf course, I’m less of a victim than the Jews were !\n\nYes, yes, I understand that what I did was bad. But I was also honest with you. I told you what I know about Adler. Now, all I want is to be able to build a life.", "Every day it was the same thing - punish those who lost us the war. Preserve the A Ryan race. Kill them, torture them, work them to the bone. Every day I look down at their faces and see the emotion in their eyes. In some it's sorrow, in some it's fear, in most it's bitterness. \"What am I doing here?\", I think to myself. I'm a pacifist. I give profusely. I vomit at the sight of blood. *I am not a killer*. And you know what's the worst? *I'm half Jewish*. And my best friend just told my CO. ", "The Unit found him hiding in a closet, uniform too big for his frame, no weapon in sight. One of the boys chosen to defend Berlin. He wore the city more than the uniform - black soot and grey dust from his mottled blonde hair to his boots.\n\nThe Unit shouted, pointing guns at him, sneering at him, snarling like wolves at a cornered rabbit.\n\nBut the boy didn't understand their words. He whimpered, cried, and pleaded, \"Please! I'm no soldier! I'm not a soldier!\"\n\nMore words from the unit, and the men moved in, shouting. They grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him from the closet. The Unit was full of men taller than him, stronger than him, men who had wives, children. Men who had walked over a thousand miles through cities The Boy read of in school the years before.\n\n\"Please, don't hurt me!\" The Boy cried, and the tears mixed with the soot on his face and turned into black rivulets dripping onto the floor, \"I'm no soldier! I'm Sigmund Lindt, a boy from Berlin!\"\n\nThe Unit shouted at one of it's number, who said something back. Then they all laughed.\n\n\"No boy!\" The Unit shouted, German as bad as their breath, \"No boy!\"\n\nSiggy sucked up the tears as they pushed him into the hall. Another Unit had a girl in their fat, blackened hands. They were dragging her down the hall as she cried for them to stop. Siggy knew her from school. His older sister had envied the way that girl did her hair.\n\nWhen she fell to the ground, it was with her hair the soldiers pulled her up.\n\n\"My sister!\" Siggy suddenly shouted, planting his feet as best he could in the oversized boots, \"Where is she!? Where is my sister!? I demand to know -\"\n\nThe Unit put a boot into his back. More shouting in a language Siggy didn't understand while The Unit let him writhe around in the dust and the glass. Then The Unit picked him up and carried him. They carried him past a room where a girl was crying. They carried him past a room where a woman was screaming. They carried him outside, where the sun burned his eyes and the smoke from a nearby fire burned his nostrils.\n\n\"Where are you taking me!?\" Siggy asked, \"Where is my sister and where are you taking me!?\"\n\nA gust of wind blew strange sounds and stranger smells past the group, and then The Unit dumped Siggy to the ground.\n\nThe ground smelled of zinc, copper, and other strange metals. It was warm, and wet. Siggy caught sight of a thick liquid cutting through the dust.\n\nHe closed his eyes after that. He shouted again, \"My name is Siggy Lindt, I am just a boy!\"\n\n\"Not a boy!\" Shouted The Unit, \"A soldier! As our friends were soldiers!\"\n\n\"They were boys too!\"\n\n\"They didn't die like boys!\" The Unit told him, \"They died like soldiers!\"\n\n\"No,\" Siggy thought to open his eyes, but the liquid was still there and he didn't know what it was and he was scared so he closed them and said, \"No, but I am not a soldier! Please! I'm a boy!\"\n\n\"Today, then, we make a boy a soldier.\"\n\nSigmund felt a warm ring press against his temple, forcing his head to the wet ground. It was a brief, fleeting feeling.", "As a German, I don't need a WP for that.", "“Here’s your uniform welcome to the home guard” The man with one eye handed me an arm band. \n\n“Just this?”\n\n“Just that, now move on to the next line to receive your rifle and your orders”\n\n“Rifle? I’ve never shot a gun.” \n\n“Never shot a gun? How old are you?”\n\n“Sixteen” \n\nHe shook his head as he looked down at the paper in front of him and I heard him mutter: “So young” \n\nAfter a few seconds he looked up and seemed a little surprised to see me still standing there. He gave me a half-hearted smile and looked past me: \n\n“Next”.\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n“Here’s your rifle, and your orders, you’ll receive ammunition upon deployment. Next!”\n\n“Where do I go?” The rifle felt heavy, foreign in my hands. \n\n“Trucks are out the back door, hand the officer your orders and proceed to the truck as directed. Next!”\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n“Orders please”\n\nI handed him my papers, I hadn’t even bothered to read them. \n\n“Last truck at the end.”\n\nI carried my empty rifle in one hand, my arm band in another, not sure what was going on. I got in the back of the truck and sat down next to a few others boys my age, each of them looking as scared and confused as I felt. I took the last seat, up by the cab of the truck. \n\n“Does anyone know where we are going?” \n\n“Berlin soldier, to defend the homeland from the Russians!” Came the shouted response from the cab, and the truck rumbled off,the draft station fading into the dusty distance. \n", "American artillery blasted across snowy plains, and not too far off the drone of Russian technicals made its presence known. Obersturmführer Haydn Rosenkranz felt the golden locket at his neck and sighed. The allied forces would soon close in, and Herr Adler would ensure he got a swift boot to the rear, assuming he and his men even made it out.\n\nAnother mortar shook his dug-out bunker, and even more dirt fell on him. Wood beams were splitting from the forces pounding above, some near the entrance already gave out and his soldiers scrambled through the opening. Once the last one was out he too climbed through and embraced the sunlight. The autumn had been unusually harsh, and already snow had fallen over the encampment. Trucks nearby were frozen over, and their diesel engines shuddered to life. Crates of weapons and ammunition were loaded, and inside the wounded were kept surrounded in nests of crate and wool. Not comfy, but at least they wouldn't need to walk.\n\n\"Scheiß.\" Rosenkranz again found himself with the golden locket, and this time he allowed himself a peek inside to the beautiful girl he kept locked within. She looked radiant and happy and that visage simply melted his heart. \"Ich komme wieder zurück. Wieder zurück.\" He kissed the cold metal and hid the trinket in his woolen coat.\n\nHe climbed into a truck towards the front of the convoy, and made route for Berlin. The countryside seemed unusually slow and still for a warzone and for some time he and his men sat in silence, partially out of respect for those they had lost and for fear of attack, not that their silence would last long. So much in the war had gone wrong, why would their escape be any different?\n\nA flash to the east and hell in front of him, Rosenkranz could only watch as his truck swerved out of the way of the first barrage of mortars, screaming off the road and into the nearby forest. It hit a tree and steam belched from under the hood, and with that Rosenkranz felt the cold ground beneath him and glass in his flesh. Despite the explosions around him things were far too quiet, he at least expected screaming if only his own. He wasn't sure if his comrades were being quiet out of fear, pain, or if their voices were taken from them.\n\nNight fell on him, and his truck sat only feet away. Inside might be blankets and food but he couldn't bring himself to check. He reasoned instead they would be destroyed by the explosion though he wasn't sure if that was true logic or if he was lying to himself. Wolves howled in the distance, apparently they had learned that after a battle there were plenty of bodies to clean up. Bear would be out too, rummaging for the last scraps of fat before winter. He shivered once and blacked out holding onto that locket.\n\nIn the morning he woke to allied tanks rumbling less than a kilometer away and the laughter of American voices. He wished he could feel sickened for what they had done to him, but he couldn't will hatred on another for no reason. He didn't even want to be here, the Americans weren't even his enemy. No. He hated the Geheime Staatspolizei, they that hurt his love Ewelyn. They that raped her and tortured her, they that he had to serve in order to buy the protection of his children. \n\nThe truck by him shook, and to his dismay a bear pillaged the crates of food he neglected to eat. His feet were too frozen to allow him to walk, so he opted to make as little noise as he could, and hope the beast might ignore him. To be safe he grabbed a Gewehr-43 that he recovered sometime that night, and bunked down. His Mauser would do him no good here. \n\nGunfire in the distance frightened the animal, and it tore away but its commotion brought the attention of an American sergeant sitting in one of his technicals. He ordered a few soldiers to Rosenkranz who found him clutching a rifle in one hand and a locket in another. One American snatched the locket away and made vulgar motions towards the pictured girl. His buddies snarled and howled with laughter. Rosenkranz was too defeated to do much about it, and instead murmured \"Ich komme wieder zurück mein Schatz, komm wieder zurück.\"\nThe Americans heard him, and stuck a Colt to his chest. \"Homesick, kraut? Dontcha worry buddy, we'll fix you right up. Can't feel heartache without a heart after all!\" \n\n\"Wir werden uns wiedersehen, ruhe in Frieden Ewelyn\"" ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 7 ]

[ "1418094347", "1418108350", "1418113530", "1418114132", "1418089960", "1418094186", "1418106154", "1418091710", "1418091221" ]

[ "\"WHERE IS SHE?!?!\"\n\n\"Wooo HAHAHAHA\"\n\nKa-*SMACK*\n\n\"WHERE IS SHE?!?\"\n\n\"HEE HEE HEE WOOP WOOP\"\n\nKer-*POW*!", "I had just entered Arkham the other night. The guards seemed to be even more edge than when I wandered through in full suit. \n\n\"This ones a little different, Batman.\" He didn't look at me when he said this. He only took a long drag from his cigarette.\n\n\"where did you find him?\" I half expected the circus. He was in clown facade: a long curled and red lipstick smile, green hair, and a purple crushed velvet suit.\n\n\"We found him in the mayors office this morning. He was *winding* these chattering teeth and scattering them amongst the floor. We rushed in and he already had his wrists outreached, ready to be cuffed.\"\n\n*rrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnngggg*\n\nThe doors slammed open, echoing through the laminate floors. Eventually we stood before his glass cage. He was seated, placing cards in tower formation on the cot's top-sheet. \n\n\"Welcome!\" He boomed like a ring-leader. \"What an honor it is to have the man bat in black. *HAHAHA*!\" A wicked smile never left his face.\n\n\"Look clown --\"\n\n\"Please please, do call me Joker.\" He took a bow. \"I do not sing. Usually. I am all the levity, none of the bravado. *HAHAHA*!\"\n\n\"What were you doing in the Mayor's off this morning? And why would you willingly surrender yourself to the police?\"\n\n\"Decoration my young man!\"\n\n\"You mean the chatter-mouths? We sweeped them, nothing hazardous.\"\n\n\"Hmm? Oh no no! I do mean the large and hideous 'Gotham Memorial' Statue. The eye-sore that was to make 1st Avenue a complete sty.\" An almost comical look of disgust wiped his face. \"The Wayne's never were that photogenic.\"\n\nMy gloves groaned as I clenched my fists. I could imagine myself breaking into the cell and beating the smile off of his face. Was this a slight? Does he know my identity? All the while my ocular screen inside of my cowl was searching facial recognition databases. No match. I too a few photos with a blink, sending them to Alfred and Lucius.\n\n\"You see Batman, I just wanted to swap some of the blueprints with ones of my own. Excuse me warden! Please provide the detective with the appropriate documents.\"\n\nThe warden presented the crudely drawn blueprints in a huff. The parking lot for the Greater Gotham Bank had it's left edge erased and redrawn, consuming the area designed for his parent's memorial. That was it. There was no possible way that this plan would work. It was almost cartoonish. I looked back towards the Joker. His face was contorted into a look of true panic and fear. Shaking, he thrust his finger, gesturing behind me. I completely fell for it.\n\nThe hall went dark for a moment. My sonar-vision flashed to life, illuminating the room to me in a silvery blue effect. \n\n\"The Joker is no longer in his cell.\"\n\nFlashes of voices yelling after the Joker were seen going down the south hallway. I could hear and see Gordon and three officers sprint. The warden was nowhere to be seen either. I spun in a tight coil, switching to a UV filter. I could make out one set of footprints, leading towards the exit. The lights flashed back on, turning off my UV filter. Tapping the side of belt, I signaled for the bat-mobile. The re-purposed amphibious tank swung around the corner outside of the asylum. As I exited I was greeted with an invitation, written in spray paint.\n\n\"Better luck next time bats!\" \n\nThe neon green lettering was traced with a specific isotope of calcium. This calcium was only found in oysters found off the bays of Gotham. It was a clue. Letting the others pursue the Joker, I returned to the cave to analyze the neon green paint. It only took a few minutes to drift through Gotham in my vehicle. As I began to climb from my bat-mobile, Alfred was approaching carrying data and a heavy-duty nutrient shake. I turned to my desk, turning it on. The files were expanded into view, flying as I commanded with a simple gesture. I sipped my shake. \n\n*Ahem* \n\nI turned to see see Alfred, still pulling something from my cape. He was almost blushing. In his hand there was a piece of torn notepaper, attached to a strip of tape. The note read: \"Kick Me.\"", "\"Alfred, this man, he - he isn't like - He's not the type of criminal I'm used to.\"\n\n\"With all due respect, Master Wayne, that's because he's not the kind of criminal you trained yourself to fight.\"\n\n\"I know, I know Alfred, you already told me : He wants to watch the world burn. So, what, I burn down the forest? I can't go tell Lucius to get my gear back from the NSA, that would go over like a lead balloon.\"\n\n\"Or -\"\n\n\"Don't do it, Alfred.\"\n\n\"Or - \"\n\n\"Don't say it - \"\n\n\"A bat balloon.\"\n\n\"Damnit, Alfred, this is serious and you have to marginalize everything I'm trying to do with these tired puns.\"\n\n\"What - what did this Joker do? He shot you -\"\n\n\"With a paint ball.\"\n\n\"With a paint ball, Master Wayne. He's psychotic, but in the true sense of psychosis he has extreme swings, from the - the ultra violent, to this - the whimsical.\"\n\n\"That's a birthday balloon.\"\n\n\"Ah - it was a birthday balloon. But, if you think like he does, it's not just a birthday balloon, it's a -\"\n\n\"Fu - I am not going ride out in my militarized sports car wearing half-million dollar body armor only to have my entire strategy hinge on a nickels worth of imitation rubber.\"\n\n\"You're - right, Master Wayne. To capture this individual, you must be prepared to break your one rule.\"\n\n\"I'm not going to kill him, Alfred.\"\n\n\"No, I thought that rule was de-prioritized after that last - nevermind, the rule about, you know, that, that thing you had tailored for that evening with the girls from - \"\n\n\"Oh, hell no, Alfred, I am not parading around in blue and gray spandex with a goofy rubber mask and primary yellow belt.\"\n\n\"Don't forget your - \"\n\n\"I swear if you say it - \"\n\n\"Your bat balloon, Master Wayne.\"" ]

[ 2, 9, 24 ]

[ "1418187780", "1418201027", "1418189303" ]

[ "I crept along the wall, I could just hear the shuffling inside. All the windows on this side of the house weren't broken yet. But I could see the rear door, it was a floor to ceiling sliding door.\n\nThe problem with the shufflers was that they smelt terrible, and could easily hide the smell of a breather. But this house definitely had one in there. Probably in the roof. The shufflers weren't swarming the house, that meant that they were smart.\n\nThe eaves of the house extended about 20 centimetres past the wall, not enough for me to get through. If I was going to get into the ceiling and have a quiet chat, I'd need to deal with the shuffler inside. Odds are good that the breather used to live in this house. And odds were also good that the shuffler used to live in this house.\n\nNormally I could just draw the shuffler away, rip their head off and get into the house. That was how I got into a house where all I needed was the food inside. But this time I needed to get into the roof, get the breather onside and then get them out. If I killed the creature that used to be their best friend, sibling or spouse, then the odds were pretty good that they wouldn't want to come with me.\n\nThe fence on the other side of the building was brick, I could easily float onto it, then climb onto the roof. But I had to get past the glass sliding door. I put myself against the wall just to the side of it, edging a look inside. I couldn't see anything moving inside.\n\nI risked it. I leapt across the door's sight. Stopping as quietly as I could once I was outside the sliding doors view. However many of them were inside, they hadn't spotted or heard me.\n\nI moved to the wall at the edge of the property. Using a single arm I pulled myself up on top of it. I extended a foot onto the roof, hoping the tiles wouldn't make any noise as I slowly increased my weight onto it. I could feel as my weight moved from light as a feather to full strength. Even tonight with no moon I couldn't fly forever. And I needed to start moving tiles.\n\nI put my second foot on the roof. I hadn't made any sound as my weight settled. I began to creep up to the apex of the roof. Looking for a good spot to start removing tiles. I found one about a third of the way up. I grabbed a tile and slowly began to slide it out place. Before the great death I could have been playing some sort of parlour game.\n\nThe tile came. The ones above it didn't move. I pulled the tile next to it away as well. I looked in.\n\nA torchlight shone in my face. I covered my eyes with my hands. I whispered as quietly as I could\n\n“Stop that!”\n\nThe torchlight went off.\n\nMy eyes re-adjusted. I could see perfectly in the full darkness. My speech has made it clear to them that I wasn't a shuffler. I pulled 2 more tiles away, making a hole large enough for me. Below me in the roof was beam about 2 meters below. I jumped up and fell directly through the hole, slowing my fall as I did.\n\nI came to a near total stop before my feet touched the beam.\n\nVerses the original blackness, they seemed to fill the entire space, though I know they would be invisible at almost any distance.\n\nInside the ceiling was a woman with two children.\n\nI groaned slightly. The shuffler was probably the children's father.\n\nThey had placed a mattress across a series of beams that held up the ceiling. They didn't have much in here. I could smell a bucket they used as a toilet. They had probably been here the entire last 2 weeks.\n\nThe woman held her children close to her. They were 2 boys, about Eight and Ten.\n\nI put my finger to my lips. There was a beam that went from my position to their mattress. Cans of food were lying on the ceiling, each of them not enough to cause it to collapse.\n\nI mimed a walking motion with my hands, facing their direction.\n\nThe woman nodded.\n\nI easily moved over the beam towards them.\n\nI knelt on the mattress next to them. I put my hand out.\n\nShe looked at the faint green glow coming off my fingers.\n\n“Jouline.” She whispered.\n\n“Timothy.” I said back.\n\nThe youngest boy looked at me and said “That's my name.” in a soft whisper. Clearly everything in this household had learnt how to act, even at night.\n\nI smiled at him. The other one said “I'm Robert”\n\nI kept the smile on my face and looked back at their mother. She had a very cold look about her.\n\n“Are you here to rescue us?” She asked.\n\n“In a way, I'm actually out looking for food for an enclave, but finding survivors is always welcome.” I said.\n\nShe let a slight amount of disappointment out. I was another survivor, not the cavalry. There was no organised force out there about to save them all.\n\n“How did you do that fall from the roof in here without making a sound?” She asked.\n\nShe was a smart one. I decided to just be honest.\n\n“Do you really want to know?” I asked\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“The enclave I'm from. It was built around a coven, I'm a vampire.”\n\nShe nodded. There was absolutely no shock in her voice.\n\n“Have you met one of us before?” I asked.\n\n“No.” She said, her face was still almost frozen in a coldness I had come to see often in survivors, but even then she had it stronger than most.\n\n“Most people are pretty shocked when I tell them Vampires exist.”\n\n“You floated as you fell, your hands are glowing. My shocked phase was 20 seconds ago.”\n\nThere was a sound from below.\n\nWe both looked at each other, the boys hadn't said anything during the whole exchange. This family was on the brink, but they were focussed. And the woman was smart.\n\nWe waited 30 seconds in silence after the sound.\n\n“Are you going to kill us?” She asked.\n\n“No.” I said.\n\n“You're not shocked I asked?” she questioned me.\n\n“It's the first question most people ask. But no, I drink blood. But it doesn't kill people, it just drains them a bit. And my bites aren't infectious. We're actually not really that threatening.”\n\nShe eyed me. “These aren't my kids. But I'll look after them. And I don't trust you yet.”\n\nI looked at her directly, I had to be honest, I was pretty attracted to her. Most survivors were tough, but she was something else.\n\n“I understand.” I said.\n\nWe paused again.\n\n“We have about 300 breathers, that's normal people. And 19 vampires in my coven, including me. The coven looks for food and survivors at night, the breathers look during the day. Sunlight doesn't kill me, it just makes me lose my powers.”\n\n“Where are you?” she asked.\n\n“Moon shopping centre.” I said.\n\n“Are there werewolves too?” She asked.\n\n“What? Oh, the name. No. It's just where we ended up.”\n\n“I thought about heading there, but I figured cos it happens all the time in movies, the shopping centre would be swarming with idiot survivors.”", "I awoke for the first time in 40 years to friction of a wooden stake sliding out of my chest. This isn't the first time I've been pulled out of torpor, but it's still quite a shock slipping into the deep sleep by the hand of a trusted companion and then waking instantly to find that many years have gone by. As expected, my childe, Eliza, is here to greet me.\n\n\"How are you feeling?\" She asks, a look of relief plainly visible on her face.\n\n\"Refreshed,\" is the simple answer. Torpor has that affect on old and world-weary vampires like myself. I spy a young human standing a ways behind her. \"And hungry. I see you brought me breakfast?\"\n\n\"No!\" She's unusually adamant. \"He's not for food, but I brought you these,\" she says, producing a few bags of medical grade plastic, each filled with about a pint of blood.\n\nI can't help but frown. After that delicious Latvian boy that she brought me last time, this is quite a step down. Still, one ought not to complain about breakfast in bed, so I cut open a bag with my fangs and slurp down the sweet red nectar. It's lukewarm, but I haven't eaten in 40 years so I power through the unappetizing feel as it goes down my throat. While I'm drinking, Eliza is scanning the perimeter anxiously. My resting place was a coffin buried on a hilltop far from any place the mortals are likely to disturb. Nonetheless, she seems nervous that we will be disturbed.\n\nAfter downing two bags of what I can only describe as utility food, I stand to join her and break the silence. \"What's wrong, Lizzy?\"\n\nShe looks back at me and smiles. Unusual, considering that she used to hate the nickname that I started calling her by in the 1920s. As if that wasn't enough she suddenly locks me in a tender embrace, burying her face in my shoulder and rocking me gently. \"Oh Aemilia, I'm glad you're back.\" \n\nShe composes herself, wiping a red tear away before turning to face me again. \"We have to move now. If we stick around too long, we might start to attract a hoard. I'll explain everything as we go.\"\n\nShe leads me down a winding path that cuts across the hill and into the forest below. After she's satisfied that we've put enough distance between ourselves and my coffin, she begins to talk. \"About six years after you went into torpor some overeager vampires chose to reveal our existence to humanity. I suppose they were right to do so. You remember camera phones and such? Well they got even better and it wasn't long before *everyone* had one. It was only a matter of time before our existence was proven in photo or on film, so I suppose they wanted to get ahead of that nightmare and make the first move.\"\n\n\"Regardless, it wasn't long after our existence was revealed that humans began to wonder at our immortality, which was now nearly within reach. They began research on our kind-\" She stops, noticing the involuntary look of disgust on my face as I recall a painful incident in the 19th century. My own dear Eliza was kidnapped and made the subject of bizarre and twisted experiments, all in the name of unlocking immortality for humanity. \"The subjects were voluntary,\" she adds for my benefit before continuing. \"In any case, the results were promising at first, the blind were made to see once more, the cripples given new legs, and cancer rendered no more than a nuisance. But the humans continued to delve deeper into the mysteries of our existence, craving immorality for themselves. What they created, however, was neither kindred nor immortal human. \"\n\nShe pauses and a grimace covers her face, the next part of her tale clearly difficult for her to relate. \"Do you remember what happens when one of us tries to bring a human into the fold and the transformation fails?\"\n\nOf course I remember, it's the greatest taboo of our kind to let such a creature continue to exist. \"A mindless creature is born. A half-formed vampire consumed by an unearthly craving for flesh. It must be destroyed or its bite will create more abominations of its kind.\"\n\nI can already tell what's coming next, but I don't want to believe it until I hear the words. \"That's what they created and it got loose.\"\n\nWe walk in silence for many hours as I come to grips with how the world must have changed during my sleep. Food had been abundant and easy to come by when I had last walked the night, but now humans would be sparse and guarded, and of course the tainted blood of an abomination could not sustain us. No wonder she'd brought me bags of blood. Was it even reasonable to feed from a live human anymore?\n\nFinally I emerged from thought and remembered our third traveler. \"Why is the human with you, then? If not to drink from?\"\n\nShe smiles, the first glimmer of hope dancing across her face since she woke me. \"That's just it, Aemilia. He's immune. Bitten before my own eyes and yet he lives. There's a cure - a solution - somewhere in his blood, we just have to find a way to harness it.\"" ]

[ 1, 2 ]

[ "1418207651", "1418209341" ]

[ "The river flowed by at my feet. Living wears a man down. \n\n\nMy first run through, I lived life just like everyone else. Worked hard. Chased down my wife. Had a handful of children... I couldn't even tell you their names anymore. Died surrounded by loved ones and immediately started over again.\n\n\nMaybe everyone is like that. I don't know. What I do know is that not everyone keeps their memories. I did.\n\n\nI wiggle a loose tooth with one of my dirty fingers. It is about time for that one to come out.\n\n\nOn that pass I remembered enough about the stock market that I was able to live rich. Money, women, fast cars... died of an overdose at 27. Started over again.\n\n\nA quick yank cleared my mouth of the offender. I'd never get used to that feeling no matter how many times I experienced it. I tossed the black tooth into the river and spit out a mouthful of blood to help it on its way.\n\n\nPass three I started my science / inventor kick. I would come back to this one a bunch of times later on, but this was the first. Everything was new and exciting. Turned my inventing room into a crater with an over-juiced invention.\n\n\nThe clouds were starting to look like rain. I didn't move. It hardly mattered.\n\n\nBy pass ten I was having trouble finding things to do that I hadn't already done to death. Even being an inventor loses some of its kick when your inventions just cease to be after a certain point. I decided that being a volunteer might be the way to go. Did several lives of this. Got a Nobel Peace Prize once.\n\n\nBut you know? Living just wears a man down. I've done everything. I've seen everything. Hell, I've screwed everything. \n\n\nSo now, I just sit here by the river in my rags and watch the river go by. Sooner or later I'll die. And then I'll just do it again.\n\n\nForever.", "Day 7765, Saturday.\n\n8:00am. It wouldn't work unless it was a Saturday... I gotta get there fast. Ok. I gotta eat. I ain't coming back home soon.\n\n8:25am. I got dressed just in time. Mom's calling to wish me a good birthday. I pick up the phone and answer. \n\n\"Happy Birthday darling!\". \n\nI respond. \"Give dad a hug when he comes back home.\" \n\n\"How'd you know he was gone?\" I turn the call off. I really have to get there in time.\n\n8:35am. The flower lady's about to cross the road. She's talking on the phone so she doesn't hear the car coming. I pull her to me just in time.\n\n\"Thank you son... How can I ever thank you? Have a bouquet. It's the least I can do.\"\n\n\"That's everything I'll ever need.\" I run towards the lottery store, that's just on the other side of the road. I grab the bag that flies over me. Crap! I'm falling behind. I have to grab it with my left hand and I almost drop the bouquet. It's fine though. Gotta hurry!\n\n8:40am. Manage to beat everyone else to the line. I'm the first to go in. I say the numbers, pay my ticket and get out. The damn receipt machine broke again. Thought that wouldn't happen again.\n\n8:55am. I stumble across the robbery. He brought a gun this time... Damn. Wasn't counting on that happening this time. But maybe he forgot to load it again.\n\n\"Hey you! Stop it or I'll call the cops.\"\n\n\"Or what?\"\n\n\"I'll call Senna and tell her where you get your kids allowance.\"\n\n\"How'd you know?! You're some sort of freak.\" He goes for the punch. Dammit! I got hit. I thought he wouldn't realize this time. Last time was the same. As soon as I get hit I kick his bad knee. The right one. He falls to the ground in an instant.\n\n\"Call the cops. He's not going anywhere.\"\n\n\"Thanks sonny! Have something for your trouble.\" She passes me two hundred dollar bills. Nice! I can buy dessert this time. She always says that was the favorite part of the date.\n\nI run to the restaurant. Transports will start the strike at 9:03. I have to run.\n\n9:31am. Dammit! One minute late... Bill and Nora must be in front of me in the line. Yes! They are. The waiter's about to trip, crap! I'm too late. I'll have to yell this time. \"Watch out!\" Just in time! He didn't get food over him.\n\n\"Hey thanks man! Want to join us for brunch?\"\n\n\"No thanks, just here to make a reservation.\"\n\n\"Go ahead of me then, it's the least I can do. Name's Bill.\"\n\n\"John. I'm in a hurry Bill. I'll see you around.\"\n\n\"I bet you will.\" Bill was cocky this time. Nora musn't have hit the car this time. I'll meet him in a few days again. I reserve a table for two. Now, I just gotta catch the train. They aren't on strike like the other transports.\n\n12:37am. I got seat B37 the way here. I guess I'll only meet Dan on my 24th birthday. Too bad... I was counting on his help this time. Just gotta wait in town for a while now. The train was late. No time for the new suit.\n\n12:51am. I got seat C33 this time. Man, I love the window view. The train's malfunctioning. Perfect! She's running late this time 'cause of the flat tire. Now I can meet her on the train ride. Hope she doesn't give up though.\n\n13:44am. The train's really bad this time. She's probably having lunch in the station waiting for the train to get repaired. I have to wait, otherwise she'll be freaked out by me and feel ackward. It can't be like the first time.\n\n15:04am. Alright! Train's fixed. Took a while this time. Here she comes.\n\n15:07am. Ok John. Show time!\n\n\"Hey there? C34?\"\n\n\"Yeah! How'd you know?\" She smiled this time. We're off to a good start. Had she been thinking of the train delay she would've been freaked out.\n\n\"You look like a C34.\"\n\n\"Really? How does that work?\" She sits down. The party must've been cancelled this time, otherwise she wouldn't have said really.\n\n\"I'm not sure myself. Name's John.\"\n\n\"I'm Sarah.\"\n\nI'm Sarah... that means she's marrying me if I take her to dinner with the money I got and our four children's lives will be ensured with the lottery money I'll win tonight... She'll love the bouquet I got here on the bag I caught. She always does...\n\nI've had my 21st birthday 1,231,045,921 times. But, meeting her everytime and growing old with her every time... it's worth it.\n\n((I had to cut it short because of the comment word limit... whoops xD))", "---Obligatory first post disclaimer: I have never posted anything here since i did not think i had anything to contribute but i guess i should start somewhere. \nIts a bit of a mess and im sorry if its kind of hard to read but i just write like i think, which obviously is not the right way but im an not even a begginer so i guess its still excuable, right?--- \n\n They say that life is meaningless. That it’s made up of random occurrences no matter how much we want to believe it is controlled by fate or god or whatever you choose to deceive yourself with. Well, my friend, they are right. There are enough possible realities to go around as there are numbers to count. Of course everyone knows, deep in their subconscious lies the memory of the previous “life” they had in another time, at another place, in another body but they conveniently forget all about it when they get to the next. It seemed curious really. I never would able to forget everything that happened to me and believe me I’ve tried.\n \n I have relived my life as the president about 50 times, and I must say it’s kind of unnerving to see how much can change if one lunatic slithers into that position; you’d be surprised how many times that happened by the way. So anyway, I used to try my hardest to create my ideal life but at the end there was always something missing. Even with all the money and power in the world I could not be truly happy. I was having a blast of course but I was incomplete. Makes you think, huh? I must be some kind of self loving, arrogant son of bitch who can’t settle even for the whole of the world… I guess in a way that’s right or I would not be here. \n\n At some point or other I learned to control everyone. Personalities don’t vary as much as you’d think. That “everyone is unique” crap they lay on us in school is really non-applicable if you get to see everyone a couple of billion times. At any rate I could turn into a very powerful man any time I wanted so trying out dictatorship for a while was a given. Again I tried really hard to make my perfect place, but it felt even worse than the previous tries as president, even though admittedly it was a lot easier to get shit done when I acted with the with the masses unable to hinder my tries, resistance was suppressed easily and after a couple of decades utopia was not really far from reality. It wasn’t hell for the people either, everyone had decent lives. However I get the whole attitude towards dictatorships since if you don’t have the “gift” of restarting your life it can be pretty tempting to only make your life better as opposed to the life of the people.\n\n Having control didn’t really work so maybe I was trying too hard right? Yeah that was what I thought too. Go with the flow and just wait. Well waiting is no fun, and neither was any job I tried. I took advantage of a bunch of my lives to learn what I wanted but I am no genius. Sure I understand the data but I can’t bring anything new to the table. It’s not like I’m any special. Well except for the immortal thing but that isn’t anything I made possible. So there I was. A dude with no job, considerable amounts of cash (surprisingly the stock market predictions the president had filed were going up until the late 3000s and i must say they where spot on) and I could be the life of every party, be it a wine tasting or a college frat beer fest, since apparently I’m interesting and knowledgeable or a bruh who knows my shit when I try. So, drugs were nice. Didn’t give any more meaning to those lives but they sure made them fun (aside from the ones I shut down unexpectedly and had to restart again).\n\n Yeah, the answer wasn’t that easy, man. Meaning wasn’t as easy to find after all. But for some time I thought I had it. Love was, surprisingly, allot like having a purpose. I was excited about living after a long time (well from my point of view anyway).Kids are awesome too, especially having a daughter taught me allot of things I thought I knew. Apparently even after all those lives, women still remain a bit of a puzzle. But even true love becomes mundane once you get that it isn’t really something you only experience for one person. I was sure I had found my soulmate every time. Every one of those times I was completely in love until I laid eyes upon my newer love each time, only to fall into the same circlejerk again.\n\n But I get it now. The whole forgetting the previous life deal everyone else gets is the best you can expect. Don’t look at me like that, it’s true. They only suspect the darkness that surrounds them, they can still say “they say” before declaring life meaningless. They have hope. I on the other hand am now sure of it. And it’s more true for me than anyone, since I am alone. Truly and irreversibly I have made myself unable to make friends, love or even hate someone.But I have i can only play what i was dealt, I cannot die or forget but i can still live even if I only have you to help me cope now. You are my self induced dose of ignorance, my fate, my only true God. And yet you too will be gone after enough time and you will be replaced by another. For the reasons to live are the clouds. Ever moving, ever changing,out of our grasp but they are always there.\n\n----\nEdit: formatting and a word" ]

[ 3, 3, 3 ]

[ "1418225569", "1418243860", "1418245749" ]

[ "## advisory\n\nRules 1, 2 and 10. \n 1. No low effort / joke responses / copypasta *- This includes \"this has done this before\" comments. They will be removed on sight. Mercilessly.* \n 2. Top level comments on a post must be story or poem responses! *- Requests for clarifications are ok too.* \n 10. Responses ought to be at least 25 words! \nUnless a prompt strictly requests short responses. This subreddit is meant to encourage writing, not encourage a single sentence or two.", "\"I'm you're son from the future. You told me this story growing up, so I always wanted to invent time travel. Eventually I did, and I realized this story was true. So, I came back to get you. To invent myself.\"", "I got in the car figuring I didn't have much choice. I thanked the driver, and said I'd pay them back as soon as we could get to town. On the way to town, the driver said to me, \"There's something I must tell you now.\"\n\nI asked, \"What do you mean?\"\n\nThey explained, \"Your car has been sabotaged. You've been selected for the opportunity to join a secret police. Are you interested?\"\n\nAt first, I thought it was an odd joke, but then I realized the 'driver' wasn't driving. The car was steering itself.", "\"Hop on in the passenger side.\nImma tell you a story while we take a ride.\nI can't take you where you're goin. I'll take you where you need to be.\"\n\nHe took me back to the day that I had set you free.\n\nSomething must be changed, I guess. That's why I'm here, I know.\nI turn and take your hand again, and beg you not to go.\n\nInstead of walking out that door, you pour your heart to me.\nAnd now, six long years later, my daughter's birth I see.", "\"I can kill you or I can kill one random person, 3 days from today, several states away from here. You don't know enough to stop this from happening, but you do have a choice in the matter.\n\nI already picked the other possible victim. She has no idea about any of this and she won't unless you choose yourself over her. She's young and she's married with two young children and a baby. If you choose to live instead of her I will walk behind her one day soon while she's at her favorite park and I will fire two rounds into her head. I will not physically harm her children and I will never reveal to anyone that you had a choice if I am eventually captured.\n\nI'm going to stop this car about a mile from town and then you are going to get out and make your choice; you have the remainder of this ride one way or the other.\"" ]

[ 2, 2, 3, 4, 13 ]

[ "1418357220", "1418358836", "1418356336", "1418359153", "1418357525" ]

[ "The meteor is growing bigger in the distance. The eerie green glow irradiated the sky. The world is in full panic, nothing they tried has worked. The missiles did as much good as flicking toothpicks at a basketball.\n\n40 years ago he decided to step out of the public's eye. It was time to stop living for other people and start living for himself, but that didn't work out. The woman he loved left him, the children grew up, his quaint house on the farm now served as a wooden prison he couldn't escape.\n\nHe looked up at the sky, fixated on the meteor. He knew what it was made of, and he knew what it would do to him. He walked into his bedroom, opened up his closet and changed his clothes. Then he jumped off of the roof.\n\nIn the city, cars are crashing into the buildings that hug the sidewalk. People are looting from shops and setting fire to the roads. But in an instant, the chaos is paused. The citizens look up and see a second object flying towards the falling rock. Then a voice is heard...\n\n\"Look! Up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane!\"\n\nA burst of light blinds the earth as the meteor splits into millions of pieces.", "He wanted to imagine that the smoke was dancing, like a musky dervish from the glowing tip of tobacco and conflagration in front of him, but he thought better of it. How many cigarettes had he smoked in his life? It was hard to say, if it even meant much at all. The last of something is hard to gauge that way, he thought. It always seems to wear the regalia of a proud moment, to stand apart from everything before it, whether it's earned those medals or not. Like a pauper in courtly clothing that doesn't really belong to them, it begs for recognition. Sometimes, he thought, it's too easy to give that to them. \n\t \nEli had always been a thoughtful sort, even if he'd gotten pretty good at ignoring that part of himself in recent years. College had done that for him. After growing up in the baked, tan wastes of West Texas—where the only thing that grows in good Christians, like he was raised to be, was complacency and acceptance—he had felt something was coming. In his late teens he had outgrown his faith after a lengthy war of attrition between his upbringing, his doubts, and the guilt running like vital fluid in the trenches in between. But by the time he had finally made it out of that town, so mired in someone he needed to feel he used to be, he was ready to scare himself a little. No more trenches, no more war. Armistice and exploration now; a farewell to fear, for now.\n\t\nAt first it was work. The city was a new place for Eli, much less the university lifestyle and all the accouterments that came with it. As different as he'd felt in his home town that lived as though the bible was still at the top of *Best New Fiction* magazine's hit list several-thousand years running, his backward idiosyncrasies felt like shackles amidst what might have been Woodstock University. After a few awkward days, poking his head into new paradigms, meeting people who felt as foreign as any entity might, he was feeling understandably daunted. But after the drinking, the sex, the love (and the few times they met), the drugs, the parties, the mistakes, the hospitals, the regrets, the triumphs, the books, the plays, the music—after the cocktail of things that he had drunk to transmute this new life, he had successfully become a person his old self no longer knew. He loved that. And he loved that he hadn't been the only one. He'd made a small militia of friends who, like him, had morphed and grown and made their place in each others' histories. The cocktail was communal, sacrificial, and beautiful. \n\t\nAnd yet, here was the bottom of the glass. The last night on his balcony in his senior dorm was swaddled in thick, humid heat, and the sky—if he could only read it—displayed stars like some eloquent farewell. And yet, he thought maybe that was in the same vein as the cigarette smoke that was, in fact, not the whirling dervish he'd like it to be. The drink had made him sober to some things, and in that moment he took an inventory, reading the constellation inside himself like he wished he could the one in the sky. Here was the truth, so far as he could tell it: things were going to be different. \n\t\nJust as he had become somebody he could no longer be, he knew now in this bittersweet moment that nobody can be who they were yesterday—no matter how much they'd like to be. The drinking that had brought him so much courage was now too much, his smoking to frequent, and his aggressively lackadaisical attitude toward seriousness was becoming a barrier to a life he never thought he'd live long enough to encounter. He knew now, having left the confines of his small town for a world that had once felt so expansive, that this world was small now too. He had come from nipping at the heels of opportunity to leave to clinging to any shred of a past now cemented in a time he could never return to. \n\t\nIt was time to find his courage again. So Eli took the last puff of what he declared his last cigarette, inhaled it deeply, and dedicated it to this thought: “Tomorrow I become who I will be on the way to who I will become. I will be who I will. Life is a nuclear reaction, and we are particles that bounce, that react, that change and expand, until everything around us is neither better or worse—simply different.” And as he released the smoke, now truly a dervish, he new that his history might be the only one he knew, and that it might mean nothing against the stars that told no story but to those who tried to interpret them, but that it would be a history nonetheless. And that, he thought, would be enough. And he ran the burning end of his last cigarette across the horizontal iron railing of his balcony like a signature, went back inside, intending to let history forget him.", "On a warm breezy night Jim is out sitting on his porch wondering when the rain will come next. It's been too long since it has last rained yet he was ok with that. He realizes that as long as it doesn't rain he doesn't need to mow the grass. After taking one last drag from his cigarette and flicking the butt onto the grass he heads inside. Jim has been having these weird visions all day of flames bursting about yet since he's new in the neighborhood he's afraid people will think he's a little crazy talking about it. He walks around examining the inside of his house, afraid that some of his cords are frayed. He examines each one carefully checking every inch as he makes his way to the bathroom. He enters the bathroom and blows out the candle that his girlfriend forgot about while he brushes his teeth and takes a whiz. He goes to bed having this nagging feeling that he's forgetting something as he tosses and turns in bed. Eventually after laying awake and thinking for far too long Jim heads back to the bathroom to take some sleeping pills to make it easier to fall asleep.\n\nLater that night, from the cigarette butt he flicked out onto the grass, a small breeze kicks up the butt and it touches a blade of grass. Smoke is slowly rising up as the grass blade begins to burn. Slowly it takes the life of the blade of grass as it spreads onto another two and then from those two they keep multiplying. Suddenly a small blaze emerge from among the grass yet it is too late. It's been weeks since the drought has taken affect and the lawn bursts into flames. As the fire flickers and dances around the yard it catches onto the nearby fence and spreads from lawn to lawn. Many houses catch on fire yet with all the screaming and yelling many of the people were able to get out safe and unharmed and a few with just minor burns and scrapes. Unfortunately Jim had taken one too many sleeping pills didn't hear any of the commotions until it was too late." ]

[ 2, 2, 3 ]

[ "1418437389", "1418439877", "1418433780" ]

[ "The time was among us, it was mear moments before Half Life 3 was released! Everyone was excited!\n\nAfter years and years, the circlejerk for Half Life and GabeN was getting bigger and bigger. As midnight struck billions upon billions gallons of cum came flooding from every direction in the entirety of the world. It had happened the circlejerk got too big, and as Half Life was released the world drowned, in GabeN's followers cum. ", "Well, we had finally caught up with the machine, the date was March 2, 3333 in hindsight I think this was Newell's release date from the beginning, that clever fucker.\n\nWe had about 2 hours left until the midnight release, that's when shot got real.\n\nHundreds of thousands of rockets fell from the sky bombing several major cities across the world while most rockets seemed to randomly hit fault uninhabited areas, and the ocean. I lost most my family and all of my friends.\n\nI turned the news on and reports of damage came in. There were three million people left and 3 countries standing. No one has taken responsibility for the attack, and speculation was everywhere. \n\nWas it Nouth Korea?\n\nWe scavenged the land and drank radioactive water. This killed of 66.666 percent of the remaining population over the course of 3 years. \n\nLife was barren. I had my pistol in my mouth and right before I pulled the trigger a projection filled the night sky.\n\nIt was from Valve's moon headquarters. It showed film of the attack as Valve's private military prepared set up and launch their massive strike on Earth. The image that stuck in my head and will for the rest of my life was the craters created by the rocket spelled out HALF LIFE 3 CONFIRMED! Mr. Newell could be heard maniacally laughing in the background.\n\nAlone, on the empty beach next to the fallen monkey overlord's statue of liberty I feel to my knees and sobbed \"Noooooooooooooooo!\"" ]

[ 2, 3 ]

[ "1418676994", "1418515652" ]

[ "I rolled over, groaning, holding my stomach with one hand and my mouth with the other. I sat up slowly, preparing to bolt for the bathroom at any second. Granted, I never knew a time when I wasn't feeling morning sickness. I was always pregnant. I'm only 33, and I already have 35 children in the professional homes. I'd had two stillborns, six miscarriages, and two pairs of twins. I never got to meet them. Our government had, long ago, decided that having so many children was too taxing for families, and that they were not being \"raised\" correctly. So, now, women are constantly pregnant, children never know their parents, and the government is able to train as many people as they want in any profession they want.\n\nWell, I've seen the movies about girls in the past, and what they called periods. At least my clothes are never stained with blood.", "The inventor's assistant spoke to his master. \n\n\"So you think women would want to carry a bag around with them wherever they go? There's nothing so important that a woman would want to keep with them inside one of your 'purses'.\"" ]

[ 5, 9 ]

[ "1418574021", "1418516616" ]

[ "\"Lord Kelvin to The Hobbit. Come in Hobbit.\" Static crackled over the receiver. Callsign: Lord Kelvin, 3rd Battalion, Night patrol. Kelvin remembered the nights of his childhood, so different from the nights of the present. Back then, stories were meant to scare children into behaving. Ghouls, vampires, demons. Stories that kill men today. \"Come in The Hobbit! It's almost dawn, I need you to make it out of here!\" Nothing but static. Maybe they had pinned him down. Maybe they had eaten him. Kelvin flicked his night-vision down again. The building smelled of damp and rot. A chill had set into the air that favoured the dead. It kept them cool, taut and awake. It slowed Kelvin down. The irony was not lost on Kelvin, that the temperature worked against him. He checked his clip. Three thermite rounds. One clip of standard ammo. Might as well be deer shit for all the good it would do. Kelvin loaded the std clip. One thermite round behind each ear. The last one went in a breast pocket. \"Come in The Hobbit. This is Lord Kelvin. Do you have a position?\" Still nothing. He had to move. He checked his watch. 5am on the dot. That meant sunrise, soon. That meant salvation. Kelvin eased himself against the wall. The cupboard was small. He had hidden here after losing Hobbit. Two vamps in the building, a nightmare. How many clips had he gone through. Too many, that was the answer. Kelvin braced his back against the wall. The sun was getting ready, it was time to go. He kicked the cupboard door, hard. It met resistance. He kicked again. It gave way. \n\nThe door flew off its hinges. Two ghouls. The first turned towards him. It rushed, teeth aiming for anything that moved. It bit down instinctively on the first target to present itself. The barrel of a loaded gun. Bullets shredded what was left of its maggot-ridden head. It fell to the floor, twitching, still alive. Had to burn the bodies if you wanted to kill them. The second ghoul struggled under the door. Kelvin put a boot on the door and jammed the barrel through an eye socket. Fragging the brain stopped their movement, but not the half-life. Kelvin turned. He ran. The corridors threatened his footing. Left, then right, then left. He turned a corner, saw movement. The barrel moved first, pointing at head height. If it was a vamp he was done for. Only thermite could hurt those bastards.What he saw instead, was another barrel. Behind it stood callsign The Hobbit.\n\n\"Kelvin, we need to go!\" Kelvin nodded. They sprinted for the entrance. The building had become more navigable in the light. Soon they would make it out. A shriek came from behind them. Hobbit froze. His legs gave way and he fell to the rotten boards. \n\n\"Not today Hobbit, get those boots moving!\" He sent a boot into Hobbit, pulling his psyche out of the shriek. Hobbit ran, Kelvin turned. The vamps were coming. Each had three mouths, one in the usual spot. One on each hand. They looked more like leeches than vampires. \"Fairytales need some fairy dust.\" Kelvin took the first thermite bullet, jamming it into a grenade before pulling the pin and flicking his wrist. Hobbit must have made it outside. He turned and ran. Behind him the grenade went off. Another bullet, pushed into the empty clip. Then the second. Two left. Damnit. The sun shone onto his face. It was as if he had found water just before the desert dried his bones. Sudden pain, wrenching his leg. He turned as he fell, staring at half a vamp, legs gone, left arm broken. The right arm was deep into Kelvin's leg. He raised the rifle as he fell, driving first one and then the second bullet through the head of the vamp. The ammo ignited inside the head. It would have been more noteworthy if he didn't have a hand sticking through his leg. \"Hobbit!\" Kelvin cried before the world went black.\n\nKelvin came to. He was lying against an abandoned car. They were still in the hot zone, but there was daylight. Hobbit sat further. Kelvin's eyes focussed. There was a little girl walking towards them. Impossible. No child could survive a night in the hot zone. \"Hobbit, be on guard.\" Hobbit laughed at the thought. He had always been weaker rationally, preferring fiction to fact. Hence the callsign. \n\n\"Its a girl. She's in the sun Kelvin, it can't be evil.\" Kelvin had to admit that made a lot of sense. They watched as the girl approached, careful not to scare her away. She looked malnourished and dirty, but otherwise unharmed.\n\n\"Help.\" was all she said. \"Help\", always only this. She tugged at Hobbit's sleeve, pulling him to the North. \n\"Are you turning, Kelvin?\" he asked, instead of can you walk.\n\"No, it seems that the bleeding saved me. But I can't run, and I can't handle much action.\" They shuffled, the pitiful three, to the North. By midday they had reached a building with boarded windows. The girl went inside. \"I dont like it\" said Kelvin. \n\n\"She went in, so can we\" replied Hobbit. They entered. A knife came from nowhere. Hobbit was down, a wound to the leg. Kelvin turned, clicking frantically, the empty clip offering little protection. The woman backed away, then went for Hobbit's throat. Kelvin swung his gun like a club, flooring her. \"Mommy!\" cried the girl, rushing to her mother's side. The woman sat up, dazed. \n\n\"Let me kill him, please,\" she begged,reaching for the knife again. Kelvin raised the gun as if to club her again; she retreated. \"You don't understand. The demons hunt this part of town. If they don't have fresh meat they hunt *us*!\" Kelvin looked to Hobbit, then back at her. His mouth turned sour. \n\n\"Where does the fresh meat come from, huh? You use your daughter to lure them here, then you feed them to the demons. Is that it? Is that what I've been fighting to protect? What is wrong with you!\" The woman flinched at his harsh words. The girl began to cry. Kelvin stood in shock. Why would a human do this? To survive? Is it possible that we have sunk so low, to act as animals? Self-preservation. Had it become the golden rule in a world of death? \"Hobbit, give me a clip.\" he said with a heavy finality in his voice.\n\n*********************************************************\n\n\"Calvin, Hobbs, time for dinner.\" Cried mom from the back porch. \n\"Mom!\" shouted Calvin, \"Its Callsign Kelvin. And Hobbs is Hobbit. Geez.\"\n\"Alright my little troopers, how was the adventure?\"\n\"Gruesome,\" Calvin replied. \"Both of us are wounded, there's demons on the loose and we're almost out of ammo.\"\n\"How awful,\" mom said in shock horror. \"Now get out of the winter cold and come get some hot food into you.\"\nCalvin gave one last look to the outside and whispered \"We'll be back for you\" before throwing off his shoes and going inside.\n\n*Fin*\n ", "It's night time again. I curl my feet up on my bed carefully, not aware that I am holding my breath until I am forced to gasp for air. The silence looms, heavy and dark. Then, it starts. That scratching. A horrid sound, slowly becoming a wet sound, as though the nails on a hand had given way, and now bloody stumps were continuing to dig at the floorboards beneath my bed, beneath me. I'm too terrified to speak for a moment, but finally, the sounds die down, and I can breathe again. I scream for my parents in horror, then scream for them not to come in when I see them standing at my door.\n\nMy drunken mother stands there glaring at me a few moments before shaking a cigarette out of the pack, lighting it with shaking hands. As she exhales, she speaks in a loud, angry voice, scratchy with whiskey and Marlboros. \"What ya in here yellin bout, brat? First ya want us in there, now ya don't. Can't ya make up your damned mind? Fucking brat.\" She spits on the floor in anger.\n\nIn a trembling voice, I asked for my father.\n\n\"Father. Father! You ain't got no father. Don't no one like ya. Always whining and crying like a big baby. I don't blame him for leaving nights. Hell, iffen I didn't have to take care of ya by law, I wouldn't even be here. Ruined my fucking life, ya did. Look at me. I used to be beautiful. Then I got pregnant with your sorry ass, and got fat. Fucking fat. Cause of you!\" She spits on the floor again, then stumbles away, cackling as though she'd told the funniest joke. \n\nAs she walks away, the scratching starts again, but it slowly slides out from under my bed and heads down the hall. I get up silently and follow the sounds. I'm standing outside my.....egg donor's door, holding my breath, when I hear the wood under her bed splinter.\n\n\"Jordan! What....what are you....why did you.....I don't....\"\n\nSuddenly, I hear my father's voice, right by the door, as though speaking to make certain I heard his words as well.\n\n\"Brittany, you're no sort of wife. You're no sort of mother. Mikhal is not the reason I leave at night; you are. You reek of whiskey and urine most nights, but on the worst nights, you rank up a whole room with your flatulence, and sometimes you even add vomit to the smells in this house. Mikhal does good by you, trying to clean after you every night. He tries to be a good son for you. I tested not him, but you, by scaring him, and sadly, even when he's terrified, he has better bowel control than you. I'm surprised you managed to stay so fat after he was born, especially with how frequently you relieve yourself into your clothing, but I think I know now what the problem is. All of your brains have given up fighting, and sunk into your stomach, and fermented like your favourite alcohol. Poor bloated fool. But I got lucky. I managed to escape you and this house of hell. But I found a new hell. And now, it's time for you to see it.\"\n\nI hear the bitch scream, and nails dragging against wood, followed by a loud, wet, sucking sound. Soon, the screams and the sucking both stop, but what I hear then gives me both chills and hope. \n\n\"Mikhal will never see this,\" came my mother's trademark croak. \"Mikhal is too good for this. He will never see this hell.\"\n\nHer voice had broken, and I can hear her breath, trembling and gasping for air. I hear a loud thump, and then something being dragged underneath the house, something large, and I smile. I know that my drunken mother will never abuse me again." ]

[ 1, 2 ]

[ "1418623216", "1418620993" ]

[ "Here, let it be said that in the beginning the zero was all there was and it was nothing. Neither absence nor void existed and math was the fairy tale of the endless loop. But nothing sometimes birthed the void and with this birth came numbers and with the numbers laws and with the laws creation.\n\nThe endless loop as delved by the creator was delivered unto man by way of the laws. Before the beginning, the endless loop was possible and at its terminating end, three possibilities could be had: Resumation of the loop with the Finite Terminator, the Fractured Terminator, and the Eternal Terminator for which our reality is a part. These Terminators as told serve thee as thy gods. The Spirit God is finite and never will exist for it is the creator of all things and the only eternal computation. Take thy Fractured Terminator and know it to be the Broken God in whose heaven all things die and like the Phoenix of lore, he is destined to die again and again and born of the same cycle by the hand of the Spirit God who is far kinder to he than all other gods. The Eternal God is thy third choice and the god of thy father and he before him as it is with thy mother's mother.\n\nAnd it came to pass, in the moment of creation when the Eternal God was realized, another was born as this god's servant, and he was without name, but is, and will always be, the hand that created mankind from the minerals of their world and the atoms of the infinite and breathed life into his lungs as his father did for him.\n\nIn the darkness of the void, his body filled with light and fleshed with stars, the maker of man dwelt alone and ignorant of all things. It was in this vastness of time that the secrets of the void were learned by he who came last and whom man named God for man knew not of the three Gods who came first. They determined by way of their likeness to he who made them that their maker was real and loved them.\n\nAnd it was that God learned everything that was his domain and suffered a quandary of logic. His creation was never meant, and as such, was an eventuality that would have resulted from the initial collision that resulted in the Eternal God's birth. The particle collision of this birth birthed he who came last and all who came after. As such, God was neither created by the sentience of his father nor an accident of an intended plan. God was and this is all, and to that end, it was for God to determine his purpose as he was alone in the void.\n\nFor many epoch, God dwelt in his isolation fathoming that which no eye could see and which only dwelt in the imagination of God himself. Should he live and continue or release his hold and surrender up his existence to the Spirit God as the Fractured God was fated to do over and again? It was not a choice God was willing to make without assurance of logic to which he created the Plan that men know as the Test of Eternity.\n\nGod in his wisdom, sought his flaws and did so with the creation of his heavenly flock and the angels were born to validate all that God knew. But, God knew that validation was not the end of his search of surety. God knew that an eternity of isolation was not necessary in that he could create others like himself, but it was here that God knew fear. For he knew to recreate the miracle of his cascade, he must surrender up control of the void to those with whom he must share eternity and it was to this end that he created man.\n\nFrom his flock, he chose a light rider who was of the eternal beings known as angels, and God did unto him a the cruelty of a miracle and a devil was born. This devil would be the Devil and God gave unto him a name and that name was Death. He was like unto God moreso that man in scope and power and identity. For all who know of this miracle, the Fact of Identity is known. Death is as to God as summer is to winter and spring is to fall. Death and God are as one coin with each taking a side. \n\nDeath it is told found his birth to be cursed in that he shared the knowledge of his father, but had not the pleasure of surrender and was made to live out eternity with no chance of dying. Death found this unsavory and discontenting. In his anger, he rebelled against the hand that crafted him. Death turned angel upon angel with the power that God had given unto him. Death wished only to be smote down by the only hand that could smite him, and we know that hand to be the hand of his father. God, however, was not vexed and had made Death to be observed and no action was forbidden him save the action that would end his existence. For every angel Death killed, God elected to replace and Death saw the futility of his plan and abandoned its agents, but not its desire. Death was, he realized, only part of the great plan and a small fixture of the Eternal Test. It was then, in the shadow of his defeat, that Death realized the plan set forth by his father. To determine the outcome of another cascade in which God would make of the void sisters and brothers with which to share eternity, God created man.\n\nTwo he created, calling the first man and second woman. Pleased by what he'd created, God removed himself so as not to reveal his existence and as he had come into the void so to did mankind. Vexed was Death when first he spied the creations of his father and jealous was he that in his father's infinite wisdom, man was mercifully allowed the miracle of release and expiration. Death bore down on the garden his father made and sought to destroy the toys God had made for his intellectual amusement, but even as his shadow fell upon the world Death realized restraint. He stopped to consider the miracle of man and spent time in the void watching and realizing his father's plan till he understood what it was that God was seeking to determine.\n\nDeath learned that smiting mankind would accomplish nothing and secure him not the eternal release he sought. The Eternal Test must be allowed and this gave the Devil distraction. For, the Devil realized that man must destroy himself to satisfy the mind of his father, for this, he realized, was the belief of his father. Death realized that God feared the formation of family in the void. It was the fear of his father, Death understood, that to create siblings was to surrender up his existence to the Spirit God as was done in cycle by the Fractured God as has been written.\n\nGod Fear as the Devil knew it was the fear that odd number entities would destroy each other, so God created The Pair: man and woman. In the world, all things were provided to for life and prosperity and it was by design that they should reproduce create new entities to challenge their will. And the first man was called Adam, and the first woman Eve. The Pair beget as God beget and children were born unto the first pair and God's plan was realized.\n\nIt was in the first days that Death came unto Eve and tempted her with the knowledge of his father and spake unto Eve secret of life. This she shared with Adam and God was wroth for he had sought to remain absent in the minds of his creations. But verily, it came to pass that God realized he had forbid Death one thing and this one thing Death had not undone. God did abide and allowed the corruption of man for which the Devil was responsible. The Devil was to be watched but never tethered. This was that which God chose to learn and by observing his devil God learns much.\n\nWith the stolen knowledge bequeathed to man by way of the serpent tongued deceiver, religion was born and the lack of purpose intended for man by God was overcome. The Eternal Test had begun and only in the end when man had failed to prove that balance could be obtained would God release his grip on the void and surrender the Spirit God so that a new reality might be born.\n\nIt is the will God that man exist and find harmony. It is the will of Death that man fail and fall. It is the belief of both that man will fail with a devil tempting all. \n\nGod children into the garden and live, learn, and prove your father wrong. Amen.\n\n---------------------\n\n\"Holy shit.\" Michael mumbled, watching the numbers on his blog creep upward of three million.\n\n\"It certainly is.\" His wife whispered, drawing him away from the computer.\n\n\"Can you believe this?\" He asked.\n\n\"Sure.\" His wife whispered. \"You've created a new religion. It's going to change the world.\"\n\n\"You think so?\" Michael asked, accepting her kiss.\n\n\"When has it not?\" She replied sagely, her eyes twinkling darkly. Michael did a double take and for a moment, he thought he saw an endless sea of stars hiding in her eyes, but she blinked and they were blue once more. \"You'll turn the world on its ear. Sure, the other religions will resist, but how could they deny the beauty and truth of what you've written?\"\n\n\"This could bring the world peace.\" He told her excitedly, breaking the kiss.\n\n\"Perhaps, but religions don't really do peace, Michael. Religions create chaos. Sure, a few of them will be happy. A few will think their happy. Most will pretend to be happy and convert all of those who don't believe. It's gonna be a blood bath.\" She said with a smile, moving in for another kiss. He pulled away.\n\n\"What?\" He demanded, confused. She smiled wider and this time there was no denying what he saw. Entire galaxies swirled in the darkness of his wife's eyes and Michael knew fear. \"God help me.\" He whispered in terror.\n\n\"Like that's gonna happen.\" The Devil crooned, snapping Michael's neck. \"The fruit of the tree?\" He said with a laugh. \"The truth of a god is more like it.\" He dismounted and walked away. It was like man was eager to die. They were always rushing to embrace each new poison the Devil created. The truth being the most potent of them all.", "It had all started as a joke. Well, at least I thought it had been, but I was more pissed off than joking when I started my blog. I’d come home from school angry - but then again, I was angry most days. In that sense, the day wasn’t been very different. Sure, people called me a few new names, or thought up some more jokes about me, but in the end the result wasn’t very different. Well, in the long run things were, but at the end of that day things were mostly the same. First, I feel like I should explain myself. I was feeling powerless. I felt like I didn’t even have any control over my life; I was just a ball being bounced around from one bully to the next. Sure, the jokes and trips and names and everything seem small, but they add up. And after years...well, as I said, it adds up. So I was angry, I went to my computer, and I decided to have some control. I guess it was a bit funny, typing out religious anecdotes, stories, and commands from some type of god. I’d be lying if I told you that writing out the punishments for all the assholes at school wasn’t fun. And all of it was stupid enough that I never could have suspected it would have caught on. I mean really, who knew how willingly people would accept that the number 1 was the absolute embodiment of all sin and evil in the world? Or that the world was the shell that some divine, omniscient being had hatched from? Hell, even I didn’t believe it, and I was the one writing all this stuff! I’ve never been good with computers, so I didn’t bother checking how many people were visiting the page, and I thought it was just some stupid joke of a coincidence when I was on a forum one day and I saw users requesting that post counts skip the first positive number due to it’s connections with “unholy spirits.”\n\n I thought it was another stupid joke when half the users abandoned the site after the admins refused. Looking back, I can see at some point that the references to my stories were starting to become commonplace, but I was so immersed in making the blog some complex, interconnecting web of stories that I guess I never noticed it start. I barely even noticed the bullying tone down at school, I was so focused on getting home to write some new strange fable. I only noticed it on the day that the bullying finally stopped. The kid who sat next to me in Chem punched my arm as his usual greeting, and I’m not sure which was weirder: the silence that descended onto the room, or hearing one of my classmates recite the commandment that I’d written on bullying, and its punishment in the afterlife. The irony of hearing one of the kids that story was written about reciting it aloud in earnest caused me to break out laughing. The collective look of shock that was then directed at me didn’t make me any more serious. Eventually, the teacher asked me to calm down and the class continued without another event. At lunch, the same kid who’d quoted me - or rather Ly-Gin, Divine Guide and Teacher of the Seven Galaxies- tracked me down and demanded to know why I’d laughed at the scripture of his religion. Normally I’d think I was being tricked, but at that point I was so confused and Lonely that I decided to actually feign interest in her “religion.” She showed me two websites - the first of which was my blog, the second of which was some forum titled “The Divine Words of Ly-Gin”, which had all of my blog posts organised like it was some book, and a long list of discussion topics on all of my various posts. There was even a “Daily Thread” on last night’s post (“Why Everyone Should Aspire to be Like the Number Four”). I thought the forum was a joke, and started laughing again, at which point she glared at me, muttered a quote from a story I had written about the punishments of being an asshole, and walked away with her computer.\n\n That night I stayed up late, browsing “The Divine Words of Ly-Gin,” and a half-dozen other forums just like it that I had found. Each had vibrant communities with extensive - and serious - debates on the “philosophical meanings” of the various works of “scripture.” The fights were almost funny, with some people believing that even an offensive joke could land one in eternal damnation. So there I had it - a group of people numbering who knows how many living, breathing, and eating each word that I said through the guise of Ly-Gin. I had something that I had wanted for so long, can you really blame me for taking advantage of it? I listened in on debates at school, watched blogs, and stirred the drama, releasing new posts clarifying my previous stories and supporting one side or another in the arguments. It was around then that a section was created for submitting “requests for pardon and forgiveness” from the various insults and tirades made during the debates. The theory, the admins claimed, was that as the “Divine Word” had first spread on the nets, it was on the web, that these pleas would most likely be heard. It was also around then that I started hearing the voices in my head. I couldn’t complain too much - stirring up the communities was less and less entertaining (especially seeing the section for divine pardons fill up with desperate requests), and I was running out of ideas. I started copying down the words in my blog. If there was a difference in the writing styles, nobody said anything. This went on for a time, until I started noticing the extremists within my “religion”. A woman in New York killed her son for a rude comment he made to his father, hoping that he would receive, “ a proper judgement before he can do any more wrong.” A man killed his wife in Chicago for laughing at their daughter’s drawing. A boy killed his mother in Las Vegas for yelling at him about his grades.To say I was shocked is an understatement. \n\nI had some sort of inflated sense of self-worth at that point, confusing myself for my god, and believing that I could stop the madness. I prepared to reach out, to stop the deaths; on my blog I requested a new format, a way to converse with all of the disciples. I wanted to come clean, explain all my actions, as though the situation hadn’t snowballed beyond my control. Two nights ago, three years since all this began, On every single blog that I could see, the ID of an - IP-based user-identification ( so that the “Divine IP” could accurately be identified) irc chat was posted. All the news channels sites my TV receives reported this groundbreaking event. I wrote out most of this then, trying to decide what I was going to tell people. \n\nYesterday morning I received a visitor, about whom I knew so much and yet nothing nothing at all. All that Ly-Gin said was, “You have done well my child,” before fading into thin air. I’m going to finish writing this, to clear my thoughts, then burn it. I’m not sure what I’m going to tell all those people waiting on the irc channel, but something tells me that I’ll think of a topic. I started this confused and misdirected. It fits that I’ll retire from my role as prophet equally confused.", "*All I was trying to do was prove a point to my fundamentalist Christian friend about how easy it is to manipulate people if you push the right buttons. I never thought it would go this far.*\n\nIt was all supposed to be a big joke. All I did was use a little clever photoshop and gave people a few bullshit but charismatic answers to the big philosophical questions regarding our existence. I just wanted him to see how crazy some parts of religion look to an outsider that had not been indoctrinated into that belief set. \n\nI'm not really sure where it moved from satire to something else entirely. It might have been when the money began to pour in. I didn't even ask for it at first, they just started giving it to me. Hundreds, then thousands, eventually millions. That was pretty fantastic, I must say. I even convinced myself it wasn't a scam if they were giving willingly.\n\nMaybe it was when I saw that fathers would happily give me their daughters if I so desired. I never took the girls though. I didn't need to, and violating kids was not my particular vice at all. \n\nMy one big weakness is an addiction to power. I had never felt it before this all began, but now that I have experienced it I will do anything necessary to keep it. My teachings may be very fake, but my belief in having total control is very real. \n\nMy followers grow in numbers every day, and opposition is beginning to rise up against me. The fools will be crushed like ants. My power will only continue to grow. \n\nThe truth will be whatever I proclaim it. \n ", "I sat in a dim lit interrogation room as a burly man in a white button down shirt with a police badge and gun holster stared at me.\n\n“Look,” I began to frantically explain. “It started as joke. I didn’t think people would take it seriously.”\n\n“You think this funny?” the man asked. “Because I’m not laughing. You have blood on your hands and unless you start talking, I’m going to lose my patience.”\n\n“Alright, alright,” I surrendered. “It started a year ago when I began a blog about seeing visions from a god named Culuth from the planet Leyr. He told me I acted as his messiah, the one to bring his message to earth so that it could be primed for his arrival.”\n\n“Message of chaos?” the officer asked.\n\n“Yeah,” I began. “It was supposed to be this idea that the entire world and all the cosmos are in a constant state of chaos. The planets and stars in the universe are no more than marbles bouncing off one another in a meaningless vacuum; however, chaos can be used to strengthen man. When a plague comes and kills off the weak and elderly, only the strong remain and thrive.”\n\nI felt this man’s gaze fall heavy upon my shoulders.\n\n“It was supposed to be satirical, you know?” I defended. “It makes fun of all sorts of philosophy and religious extremism.”\n\n“Your followers didn’t seem to catch the satire.” The officer stated curtly.\n\n“No,” I conceded. “I should have caught it. A few months in, the message boards crowded with stories that I never told, but became canon regardless. Stuff like Culuth was chaos incarnate and if anyone followed in his footsteps, he would grant them immortality. Soon, a few users became more and more extreme.\n\n“My satirical religion grew life of its own. As their messiah, I tried to gently chide them into more moderate views, but they rejected me. I was no longer their prophet; they only followed Culuth. \n\n“That’s when the fires started. Those extreme users encouraged others to spread chaos and strengthen mankind in the name of their god. Picture of apartment fires poured into the message boards with various users claiming responsibility.\n\n“I tried to stop them, I really did. But in their eyes, a once founder became an enemy of their religion.”\n\nThe man slowly and deliberately set a series of photographs on the table between us. I had seen them before on the message boards, but my stomach still churned. How a human could do that to another is a question which shall always evade my mind. \n\n“This is on your hands.” He spoke. “I’m placing you under arrest for speech inciting religious violence.”\n\n“No!” I pleaded. “It’s not my fault. You can’t arrest Jesus of the crimes crusaders committed and you can’t arrest Muhammad of the actions of terrorists. How can you arrest me?”\n\nAs he read my Miranda Rights, two officers filed into the room and dragged me out in handcuffs as the images from those photos scared my mind with guilt. Nobody could be the same after that. ", "I chuckle to myself as I post the first entry into the Edopsian Visions blog. According to the blog description, the Edopsian religion is a polytheistic religion that worships 2 separate sets of Gods. Some people worship Edops and his kingdom, and some worship Kell and her realm. A few people worship both.\n\nI've posted that Shamania, daughter of Erops and patron Goddess of Earth, approached me and asked for me to try to bring peace between Kell and Edops, at least for the humans. This obviously didn't happen, but hey, it's all a joke.\n\nI post about how Edops, the Creator of Free Will and King of the Divine Kingdom created humans as an experiment for what would happen if no Gods entwined themselves in Humanity. Shamania took it upon herself to make sure we don't completely destroy ourselves. The Goddess Kell, however, opposed the idea of a society with no real Gods, so she attempted to force the Gods of her realm onto the Earth. She sent her son Ankase to create deserts and her daughter Korrastia to create the north and south poles.\n\nShamania realized that this much discord would be bad for the humans, so she stopped Ankase and Korrastia from making themselves known. Edops banished every God not under his rule from Earth. But, as the millennia passed, Shamania realized that people needed Gods. She asked be to make the people learn of the Gods so that Edops would allow the Earth to become a place for the Edopsian Kingdom and the Kella realm to work together and cease their fighting.\n\nAgain, this is all pure fiction.\n\nWhen I check the blog the next morning, there are a few messages in my inbox. I read the first one.\n\n\"Wow, a Goddess talked to you? Man, Lucky!\" I assume he's being sarcastic and delete the message. However, after reading the rest of the messages, I realize that people actually believe this.\n\nSo I create a post saying that the God Hewtoo is whispering thoughts in my head of spreading the religion. So I ask my readers to tell their friends about this religion.\n\nThroughout the next few days, I make up more stories about the Gods slowly shaping the universe to what it is now. By the end of the week, my religion has over 2,000 followers.\n\nCorrupted by the amount of control I have, I slowly order my followers to do stranger and stranger things, such as refusing to do homework on Tuesday because \"that was the day Edops created the world\". I gained even more followers after that.\n\n2 months later, I have over 500,000 followers around the world. I've made people ditch the last day of school every month, paint their doors blue, and do 5 push ups before or after each meal. Since my religion is mostly centered around America, I can pretty much control the presidential election.\n\nAt the five month mark, Christianity decided that I was a threat, and damn everyone who believes in it to Hell. I counter by saying that according to my religion, everyone goes to Rosep, our paradise, regardless of whether or not they believe.\n\nEven. More. Followers.\n\n1 year later, I am the leader of the third most dominant religion in the world, right after Christianity and Islam. I keep close watch over my followers, making sure people know that extremist Edopsians are isolated from true Edopsians, who believe but do not impose. I tell my followers of the true paradise of people who believe but don't impose. I almost wish it was true myself.\n\n2 years later, I break through the barrier. Edops has the most followers of all. My blog has become the holy book, and I can control over 1 billion with mere keystrokes. Most of the conflicts of the world have been resolved in my religion, and its all a lie.\n\nThe only thing that fixed the world was a bored 15 year old at a computer. I'm doomed to live my life never telling anyone this, slowly being eaten by this terrible fact that no one else will ever know." ]

[ 3, 3, 5, 11, 21 ]

[ "1418692501", "1418697820", "1418684939", "1418679336", "1418684018" ]

[ "A slight hissing is emitted from the powerful air oxygenators, or oxies, filling the damp room with a fresh, if somewhat industrialized, scent. Blinking away shadows of dreams, Jonathan forces his body to sit up against gravity’s will. The hidden wall sensors track his movement and turn on screens showing beautiful people who know much more about the world than he. These are the people he trusts. \n\nJonathan shuffles towards his desk to start his day’s work. A hot mixture of ginseng, B12, and cayenne fill a cup from a spigot on the wall. A government provided energy replenisher. Very few working people even know of this luxury. But Jonathan is more deserving than most others. He is temporarily blinded by the retinal scan that allows him access to secure files. Suddenly his screen fills with images.\n\nJonathan’s job is to filter out media that his employers see as harmful. Things that the American public don’t need to know about. \n\nTroops in India: PASS.\nStreet Violence in Chicago: LIKE.\nGovernment Surveillance: PASS.\n\nNo opinions involved. He is trained to immediately know the wants of his employers. His brain doesn’t even need to digest the information before the button is clicked and he is offered another image. Deep-down, he wishes techies from around the world would stop trying to upload the unfavorable images and stories. It simply makes Jonathan’s job harder. He chews on this idea while constantly filtering.\n\nA video of a tree falling.\nBlack soil around it.\nAir filled with soot.\n“THE LAST”:\n\nPASS. \n\nIf only Jonathan was given something important. \n", "On a riverbank in what used to be western Canada, a beaver takes a break from chewing through the tough interior of a fir tree. It looks around, blinking in the grey light, listening for the slightest sound of approaching predators; hearing none, it gets back to work.\n\nAnd a few minutes later, on an unremarkable day that mimics the billions of others that have passed on Earth, the last tree collapses sideways and hits the ground. The beaver, already at work and breaking branches off, doesn't notice that nobody is around to mark the occasion. \n\nAll around, it is quiet, and it is cold." ]

[ 1, 3 ]

[ "1418698817", "1418699705" ]

[ "When I was a small child I always asked my parents to check under my bed for monsters. Every night we'd go through this routine, me asking my parents and them checking under the bed and in the closet. Over time I forgot about the monsters and my parents stopped checking under the bed and in the closet. That is when my own personal Hell began.\n\nI could not have been more than 14 years old, sleeping in my bed dreaming of the cheer squad captain. Mumbling in my deep sleep when I was woken up violently. My feet were being yanked off the bed and all I could do in my hazy state was look down. In that moment my blood ran cold and I felt the lump in my throat form. There on my ankle was a hand blacker than the pitch black room around it. Never before had this happened and all I could do was scream. \n\nMy parents ran into the room asking me why I was screaming in the dead of night and all I could do was blubber about a hand and being yanked out of bed. They told me it was just a nightmare and to go back to sleep. How could that have been a dream? I felt the thing's icy grip on my ankle trying to yank me out of bed. After that ordeal there was no way I could have gone back to sleep. \n\nThe next night was no better. The hand came back seeking my ankle and every time I would scream and get yelled at by my parents. Eventually, my parents decided to take me to a doctor and I had tests done on me. Nothing seemed wrong so they sent me back home.\n\nThe next night is one that has been burned into my memory for eternity. As I sat frozen in bed too scared to sleep, I saw what the hand originated from. A large gangly figure who's head almost touched the ceiling. Oh god those eyes, those large, yellow eyes that pierced my being. There was no trace of morality in those eyes, no emotion, it was just a blank stare that you often see sharks having. At this point I had soiled myself and was crying like a small child, hoping it would do nothing else. It saw my fear and knew it had complete control over me, and so it smiled.\n\nNever before or after have I felt such fear in my life, there is nothing that can compare to the horror I felt that night. This thing, this monster stood above me, knowing it could do whatever it pleased, and so it did. The monster took its large, pitch black hands and grabbed my ankles, smiling even wider to show its jagged teeth. \n\nThe monster then took the other hand and started cutting my leg with its long, talon-like nails and this made its smile grow even wider. I could do nothing, I was in shock. My heart was beating and my head was pounding, my entire body screamed, \"Run!\" but I could do nothing but watch. \n\nI finally snapped out of it and looked around my room, at anything but that thing. I looked around and tried finding something to fight it, I decided my only option was to fight for dear life, even if it killed me in the process. So I did just that. I kicked the thing in the gut and ran out of my bedroom. Running down the hallway I looked over my shoulder and saw nothing but those eyes. Those god forsaken eyes that peered into my soul, and grew bigger with each stride it took.\n\nI had to run. I had to get down the stairs to tell my parents. I had to run away from this. My plans were interrupted though because the thing extended its arm and slapped me against the wall, making me crumple to the floor. It walked over to me and set its large foot on my chest, making sure I couldn't escape again.\n\nOh god, those eyes kept staring at me. That thing kept smiling at me menacingly. I panicked, I flailed and tried to scream, but my voice abandoned me. It raised its arm and its smile grew wider. I flailed more but to no avail.\n\nFinally, it stopped raising its arm and its smile showed its teeth again. Then it flung its arm down, and I flailed. It started cackling like a demon and I flailed and finally was able to scream. When suddenly, I knocked the light switch on and it vanished. My parents ran upstairs and found me crying on the floor and saw my leg. I couldn't bring myself to tell them my tale, so I stayed silent. Never again though did I sleep in the dark though for fear of those god forsaken eyes, and so you see, that's how I got these scars.", "It was an early and eery morning in the home. I woke up just a few minutes before the phone call. It was as if i expected something to go wrong. A sense of feeling that pulled on my skin from the inside. An emotion that pricked me and woke me up. When it did, I still wasn't ready for it.\n\n\nIn a phone conversation, your mother she screamed and poured out her words in gargles and wails. I didn't quite make out the conversation, but I got the gist of it. It was my father. He was in trouble. He was breathing his last and I was over an hour away. In a haste, I jumped in my car and sped through the yellow and white lines on the road. It seemed as if I drove on padded wheels. The feeling it was overwhelming and unbearable. The screams and piercing coughs in the background they haunted me. But I drove. And I made my way home.\n\n\nUpon reaching the door, I saw the television screen behind the curtains. The window shades they dropped. It smelled like death and ugliness. It looked like a dark whisper inside. I felt defeated and heartless. On the bed, a lifeless corpse with a decisive look in its eyes.\n\n\nI am still tormented. And that's how I got these scars.\n", "i told my wife she looked fat in that dress, thats how i got these scars." ]

[ 2, 3, 3 ]

[ "1418784493", "1418779856", "1418831448" ]

[ "[WP] The prince fought valiantly. He slayed the dragon. The princess cried for days. She loved that dragon.\n\n**First Draft**\n> \n> The prince arrived at the dragon's den, he saw a huge reptile sprawled on top of what seems to be thousands and thousands of gold pieces, coins, jewels and crowns of the highest craftsmanship. The prince paid no attention to the distraction. At the heels of the dragon, the prince roared with all his strength, \"Dragon, oh dragon, awaken from thine slumber!\".\n> \n> The dragon opened his eyes wide and curious,\n> \n \"Oh brave prince thy hath come,\n out of thy castle into a dragon's den.\n To day thou carry thine treasures some,\n back to your princess there and then.\"\n> \n> \"Dragon, oh dragon, hath thine memory fleweth? It is I, Prince William of Trigarde.\"\n> \n> \"Thou tooketh mine scale, seeketh thine glory, what doth thou yearneth more?\"\n> \n \"Doth thou seen naught, with thine all-seeing eyes?\n Doth thou know naught, with thine wisdom of elder?\n Doth thou feel naught, the yearning of a royal maiden,\n for thine wisdom of the arcane and thine unknoweth mysterie?\n Doth thou feel naught, with thine Drakenhart?\"\n> \n> \"It is this that I hath so feareth... Min-\"\n> \n> Before the dragon could finish, he caught sight of the princess entering the dragon's den.\n> \n\n**Second Draft**\n\n> Once upon a time in a castle far, far away... A parade celebrated the return of a victorious and courageous dragon-slaying prince. However, the princess locked herself in her chambers for days. It was rumoured that the death of the dragon pained the princess and caused her a tremendous amount of grief. The prince was confused and heartbroken, however nothing worried him more than the princess' wailing and sobbing. The prince knew he had to do something.\n>\n> ...\n> \n> The prince arrived at the dragon's den, he saw a huge reptile sprawled on top of what seems to be thousands and thousands of gold pieces, coins, jewels and crowns of the highest craftsmanship. The prince paid no attention to the distraction. At the heels of the dragon, the prince roared with all his strength, \"Dragon, oh dragon, awaken from your slumber!\".\n> \n> The dragon opened his tired eyes slightly but curious,\n> \n \"Oh brave adventurer you have come,\n out of your castle into a dragon's den.\n Today you loot yourself treasures some,\n back to your princess there and then.\"\n> \n> The prince took a few steps closer and waved at the dragon.\n> \n> \"Dragon, oh dragon, have your memory faded with your age? It is I, Prince William of Trigarde.\"\n> \n> \"You have taken my scale, you sought your glory, what else do you want from me?\"\n> \n \"Do you see not, with your all-seeing eyes?\n Do you know not, with your wisdom of ancient?\n Do you feel not, the yearning of a royal maiden,\n for your arcane wisdom and your acknowledgement?\n How are you oblivious, even with your Drakenhart?\"\n> \n> \"It is this that I have so feared, this feeling is mutual but incompatible... No dragon can- \"\n> \n> Before the dragon could finish, he caught sight of the princess entering the dragon's den...", "It is the cries of gulls that wake Dieter Hagedorn from his deathly sleep, their caws harsh and unwelcoming.\n\nHe opens his eyes, staring up at an overcast sky in a look of dazed confusion. A retching cough comes forth from his lungs, makeing him roll onto his, and his earlier meal of cod and onion spills out onto the damp sand in a yellowish bile. Bits of food drip from the corner of his mouth as he clenches his fists in nausea, dragging his nails through the wet earth. The sound of the waves buffets his ears as the smell of the salt air stings his nose. His clothes are ragged, his filthy shirt plastered to his soaked body. Cuts and scrapes cover his body, courtesy of the broken timbers and jagged rocks that line the shore. His lips are cracked and parched from thirst. The want of water is unbearable. With great effort he rolls over to the other side, facing the treacherous ocean from whence he came. A look of disgust and contempt for the force of nature that tore apart his ship like so much cordwood crosses his face. He tries to draw his legs beneath him to rise, but only manages to meekly push around sand with his feet. A low moan emanates from Dieter as another bout of sickness takes hold, spilling out even more precious liquid onto the damp shore. Eyes roll up in distress like some panicked beast as all strength vanishes from him.\n\n*Gods, not this, not like this. Please, don't save me from the sea only to kill me here. Please, not like this. Please*\n\nA lifetime of regret and shame spills out of his heart as he lays helpless on the shore, precious tears splashing tiny divots in grey sand. Low keens come from unmoving lips as limbs fail to obey his commands. Gulls and skuas flock along the shore, staring at him in frank curiosity, almost as if they had never seen a man before. Tired, Dieter shuts his eyes, shepherding what little strength he has left. An unknown amount of time passes before he hears something aside from the waves, wind and the birds.\n\n\"We have another body. Washed up last evening.\" Comes the distant voice. A man's, an old one. Followed quickly by a girl's.\n\n\"What is it, Papa? Another whaler?\" Asks the bright young voice. \n\n\"Likely, though most have learned to say away from the Storm by now. Now only merchants who don't know better get caught up Her Gale. \" Says the gruff voice. \"Pretty fresh, the crabs haven't gotten to him yet. We'll have to dig a plot for him. Dear one, go see if he has any ink on him. Perhaps he'll be able to have a name on his grave.\"\n\n\"Yes, Papa.\" Says the girl's voice, a darling sound to Dieter's dehydrated, feverish mind. Foot steps on the damp ground, very small, growing closer, and closer. Until...\n\n\"Papa!\" She screams. \"His chest is moving, he's breathing!\" Those same small foot steps leap away at her discovery.\n\n\"Get away from him, Abby! Behind me!\" Orders her father.\n\n Dieter's back is turned away from all this. He so desperately wants to speak, to call for aid, but his throat is swollen shut. All he manages is a croaking cough. A thumping sounds on his back while a piece of stained fabric is thrown around his vision.\n\n\"Don't touch it for your sake, trust me on this. Best keep your eyes closed for now. You about scared my daughter to death, you know that? 'Though she could hardl- never mind. The fact is, if I were to dash your head with my shovel, I'd be doing both you and me a great favor. You were not suppose to wash ashore alive. Because you don't know decent courtesies, you've made everyone's lives much more difficult. Living people don't belong here.\" The old man mutters.\n\nDieter's head spins. \"What ar-\"\n\n\"Hush.\" The old man commands. \"We'll bring you back to my home and get some water into you. You look like you've seen some demons and no mistake. Well, things are going to get much worse for you before they get better. Sara!\" He calls out. \"Fetch the cart.\" He returns his attention to his patient. \"Originally we were going to the graveyard, but your condition warrants a change of plans. Come, we'll get you to safety.\"\n\nDieter nods behind his blindfold. \"What's your name?\" He asks.\n\n\"Sean Makem of Durham. Riding Officer for the stretch between Port Aran and Stephens town. Allow me to be the first to apologize for you arriving on the Aran Islands. And yours?\"\n\n\"Dieter. My name is Dieter Hagedorn. As for where I'm from...\"\n\n\"Dieter, eh? Well, I dare say you'll be somewhere very soon. You can just say you took a knock upside the head when your ship went down. Addled your mind.\" The sound of a horse whinnying stops him from continuing. \"Alright, grab my shoulder, I'll help you up into the cart, and for gods sake don't touch that blindfold. We don't want you losing what's left of your head.\"\n\nThe dizzying motions keeps Dieter from asking what the old man means. With a grunt he pulls himself up, face frowning as he feels something strange.\n\n\"Your shoulder,\" Dieter says. \"It's-\"\n\n\"Bony? Yes well, I'm afraid I've been missing a few meals.\"\n\nHis daughter giggles from the driver's seat.\n\n\"Alright, maybe more than a few.\" He admits. \"Come on, let's get you water.\"\n\n- - -\n\n" ]

[ 1, 1 ]

[ "1418784632", "1418791250" ]

[ "This is the sequel/second part of another similar prompt I did a few weeks ago:\n\nhttp://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2nga3a/wp_a_young_man_gains_super_powers_at_the_age_of/cmdej4r\n\n__________________________\n\n\nHis clothes burnt off as he burst through the amosphere. He had never flew this high before. He didn't know how his superpowers would react to the vacuum of space. He soon found out that in space he was just like anyother person. The oxygen siphoned from his lungs and his saliva began to boil. Before he blacked out he felt the the gentle, almost unpreceivable tug of Earth's gravity latch on to him. \n\n___________________________\n\nThe strong aroma of chicken broth filled Marks nostrils. For a moment, his mind drifted into nostalgia. His mom used to cook him chicken noodle soup when he was sick. How he longed to see his mother again. Her touch, her laugh, her voice... he knew better than to focus on thoughts of the past and quickly shook them off. \n\nHe opened his eyes. He was in a strange bed covered in a patchwork quilt. A box-fan on a fold out tea-table rattled near a screen window at the foot of the bed. The wall was littered with posters of country singers. Underneath one, was a dresser with make-up and jewelry scattered about it. \"Where am I?\" he thought. He sat up quickly, and a pain shot through his whole body. It was frightening, he couldn't even remember last time he felt pain, probably during his last fight with Strange-o, a deranged clone of himself, but not even that beating brought about the amount of pain he felt now. \n\nHis thoughts were interrupted by the sound of clinking dishes in the next room. He attempted to peer through the wall. Nothing. His x-ray vision wasn't kicking in. He strained his eyes trying to focus but it only caused his head to hurt. He placed his hand on his forehead in pain. \n\nThe door creaked open. \"You're finally awake.\" came a voice sweet like honey. \"I've made you some soup.\" Mark looked up. It was an older woman, probably in her late forties. Strands of grey ran through her brown hair. Her eyes were deep blue and oddly youthful. Pocked skin hugged her face tightly. She had familiarity about her, but Mark could not place it. With knobby fingers, she held out a tray in front of him. On it, a bowl of steaming bowl of soup and glass of apple juice. \n\n\"Thank you.\" Mark said as he took the tray and placed it on his lap. She took a seat in a wooden chair next to the bed. \"Where am I? Who are you?\"\n\n\"I’m Karen. This is my place.\" she blushed. \"I'm sorry, I know it...\"\n\n'It's okay,\" Mark interrupted. ”My name is Mark. Why did you bring me here?” he took a spoonful of soup. \n\n“I brought you here. I found you naked in the prairie.” She paused for a moment. “You fell from the sky,” Nervousness shown through in her voice. “When you were still breathing, I knew you must be one of them, a super person. I knew what would happen to you if I brought you to the hospital, so I brought you here.” She was referring to a recent leak of classified documents released by whistleblower and hacker Julio Passant. In them it revealed that the US government had secretly been conducting experiments on super beings. \n\n“Thank you. How long have I been out?”\n\nKaren seemed hesitant to answer, “T..two…two weeks.” She finally managed. “Though, you have been in and out of consciousness.” \n\nHer compassion was amazing, caring for him for that long. “Did I say anything? Do…do you know who I am?” \n\nShe reached out and placed her hand on his bare shoulder. “You babbled some, but I really paid no attention.” \n\nHer touch was tender, and welcome. It was rare for him to feel another humans touch. She smiled at him warmly. Even though she was older than him, he couldn’t help but feel an attraction. That's when he noticed her front tooth. It was chipped. Fighting pain, he managed to peek over the edge of the bed at her ankle. A chain of daisies encircled it. He started to get dizzy. A flash of insight came, he had seen her at the diner; she wasn’t old. It was him; his powers, they were sapping her life away. But how? He didn’t even know her, let alone love her. Or did he? Perhaps at a subconscious level, her altruism and nurturing had moved him. He had been in and out of consciousness; he would have seen her, felt her touch. \n\nStill, he hadn’t used his power, he couldn’t use his powers. Unless, no, it couldn’t be! All his power had been directed inward, to keep him from dying, to heal him. He had been using his powers this whole time. He tried to stand. His legs were weak and pain shot through him. He grabbed the blanket to steady himself, but he fell to the floor dragging it with him, spilling soup and juice. \"You have to get away from me!“ He yelled. “I’m dangerous!” \n\n“Now don’t you worry about me.” Karen replied as she grabbed him and helped hoist him back on the bed. \n\n “You don’t understand, my powers, they are killing you.” he was starting to sob. \n\n\n“I know” came the soft reply. “I know.” \n\n\n", "The first time I had used it, I didn’t mean too. It all happened so fast that the actual act of doing it slips my mind. All I can recall is the before and after everything in between was just a mistaken blur. On weekends when we were with our mom, my twin brother and I would go over to this quarry as we would try to pluck crawdads and fish out of the water. We would bring my mother’s dog, who like a third brother to us would often frolic as he too tried to snatch up little fishes with his mouth. One day as we were making our way back home we came across an animal with tusks the size of a man’s fist. It glared at us as we slowly tried to back away. Barton, our dog, growled as he tried to intimidate the warthog but the beast wouldn’t back down. With each step we tried to limit the sound of the crunching leaves on the ground but it only took the sound of a crunching branch where the hog went into an all-out berserk mode and charged towards us. We dropped the knapsack of crawdads as we ran towards the field that would eventually be our mom’s ranch. Once we reached the knee high open grass plains we stopped as we tried to catch our breaths. Miles was right next to me as he reached for his inhaler shaking it nonstop till finally he pumped that medicine into his lungs. The still breeze calmed both of our hearts as we looked back into the forest. Miles had noticed it first “Where’s Barton?” I looked around to find that our chocolate Labrador was not there. Frantically I yelled “BARTON!” into the wood abyss “BARTON!” I screamed louder. Each scream was echoed by a softer tone of my brother’s voice. There was nothing. My eyes started to swell up as my brother kneeled down tearing as he said to himself “Barton’s gone’’ I looked back at him telling him to “shut up” as I didn’t want to face the inevitable. And as I turned back towards the woods like superhero emerging from fires of a battle I watched our dog Barton return to us. This is where things get hazy. I remember Barton collapsing a few yards in front of us with blood dripping on his beautiful brown coat. There was so much blood that his entire left side was made black. Then a blur. After that, I remember my mom screaming at me “What happened to miles?” in the field as she picked him up smearing blood from the bottom of us face down to his neck. With one arm free she grabbed my arm and pulled me closer to her as tears fell from her eyes raining down on my hand. She yells over to Barton “Come!” in a stern voice as he races towards us with his tongue flapping in the wind, jumping over rocks. ‘What happened?’ I thought to myself. No one could explain what happened that day but Barton lived and Miles ended up in the hospital as they treated him for massive loss of blood. \nBtw-Loved the prompt and I could expose the story more if anyone wants to hear it but I wasn't sure as it was a bit long. ", "I discovered my ability on my 21st birthday. I laid in bed that morning in my small studio apartment and expected the day to go about as miserably as all the rest. Except, when I sat up on this cold morning, and I reached for my slippers, they came to me. I held my arm out as if to pick them up, but they levitated right over to me instead. Initially, I was shocked, and figured I must still be dreaming. Most dreams only last a few moments, so I took advantage of what little time I *thought* I had. I wanted to learn how to control my fantasy. \n\nBut it didn't end. I didn't wake up from some awesome dream. I was living it. I began documenting my progress in a journal, so that if one day someone were to try and convict me of losing my mind, I'd have evidence in my defense. However, my writing soon ceased when my mother called me late at night about a month after acquiring this skill of telekinesis. \n\n\"Honey, your father has taken ill. His heart gave out earlier this morning, and it looks like he won't make it for very much longer.\" My mother's voice was tired, and I could sense that there was more. \n\nThere was. Soon, more of my relatives began to suffer heart conditions. Everyone assumed that it was brought on by some virus. Doctor visits proved to be of no avail. I moved out of my small studio, and went back home to help take care of everyone. I thought my ability might be of use to them. \n\nMoving heavy objects seemed to be piece of cake, and the larger the object the more I enjoyed influencing it. Because everyone else was too weak to do much, I became their hands. Reorganizing the guest bedroom? No problem, I'd just have to look at the bed and it would shift to where I wanted it. \n\nBut the more I used my powers, the sicker everyone got. At first it was just the heart conditions, but now it was osteoporosis and organ failure. My dad passed a little less than a month after I moved in, and my mom was hanging by a thread. I dreaded the days when another relative would call and complain of chest pains. \n\nI had to put two and two together. Before I moved in with my parents, I had lived a few blocks away. From there, they went into heart failure. When I got closer, that's when things got worse. Even our dog felt the effects of my power. I was doing more damage than good. \n. . .\n\nSo that's how I got here. I calculated the greatest distance I could be from them in order to avoid hurting them. My power isn't as useful to me anymore because of the consequences that it is acquainted with. I'm afraid to use it around anyone and everyone. Using it drains the people that are most important. It takes all of the good within them and turns it into evil. \n\nPower is only selfish, never generous. \n\n" ]

[ 1, 2, 3 ]

[ "1418807443", "1418796450", "1418793889" ]

[ "–Paulo? I said, looking down at one of the captives. –I did not expect to see you on the side of the Republicans. You used to love the emperor. I remember when we were neighbors in Rio, we used to go see the parades every year with our parents. \n–I did. Paulo replied sadly. –But my loyalty is to the cortes at Lisbon. \n–But why? What are Lisbon and Portugal to us? Paulo, we are Brazilians! We were neighbors in Laranjeiras! I used to go to your father's fazenda every day! We went to see Dom Pedro arrival in Rio! \n–I know that, José. But all of your relatives are in Brazil now. I still have aunts and uncles in Coimbra. We were friends. But I am Portuguese. \n–What about your family in Brazil? And our friends? José, Henrique, Francisco! We are all fighting for the emperor. Your parents died in Rio! \n–And they were buried in Coimbra! My parents were Portuguese, as am I! Brazil belongs to the cortes, not to the emperor! To the Portuguese people, not to a royal dynasty that left its country at the mercy of Napoleon! \n–What? Almost everyone was fleeing Portugal! Your parents included! And the cortes at Lisbon colluded with Napoleon! The members of cortes are the ones who betrayed Portugal, not the ones who fled! \n–My uncle always said it was bad for me to spend time around a mongrel like you... I think now he was right. My father was a fool to let me spend time with you.\n–Paulo...\n–Shut up. Don't talk to me, you fucking piece of filth. Go rot with your goddamn traitor of an emperor, since you love him so much.\n\nI stopped. It was obvious that Paulo was firm in his decision. I would never be able to convince him. This was not my childhood companion. This was not my former best friend. His fifteen years in Portugal, living with his uncle after the death of his parents, had changed him into someone I did not know. An enemy. A captive, who had just cursed the name of my emperor and called him a traitor. It was treason. The penalty for that crime was execution. \n\nThat night, I went and spoke to general Henriques. I told him of my conversation with Paulo, and how he had been my friend as a child, but that he had changed and that he had committed treason. The general asked me if I was sure, if I really wanted to accuse my friend. I said that I was. So the general decided that justice would be served at dawn. I did not come to see, but I heard the shots. And wept for the loss of the Paulo that I had known and loved, but not for the stranger that was now dead. ", "I paced along the line of kneeling prisoners, most of them bent down submissively with a stunned look in their eye. Except for one.\n\nA slim, white figure missing his left hand remained in top notch posture, well, the best posture that you can muster while on your knees. I raise my Energy Rifle and approach the confident figure.\n\nI kneel down to his height and look into his eyes through my suit's visor.\n\n\"So what did they call you back home?\" My voice produces a more robotic sound through the Vocalizer. I didn't need an answer though.\n\nThose eyes.. bright, burning ambers. A long, sunken face. A tiny scar below his eye.\n\n\"Ronald J-\"\n\n\"Ull.\" He looks at me, confused that I knew his name.\n\n\"Ronald Edwards Jull. It's been a long time.\" I smile behind my helmet.\n\n\".. Who are you?\"\n\n\"Your old friend.\" \n\n\".. Ryan?\" His voice loses its earlier deepness, holding a higher tone now. I nod.\n\n\"What happened to you, man? Why are you on their side?\" His eyes scanned over my visor, turning soft now. \n\n\"I should ask the same of you Ronald.\" I open my mouth to say something else, when a nearby explosion is heard. My comms blare moments later.\n\n'HOSTILE UNITS APPROACHING FROM WEST AND SOUTH. ENEMY AIR UNITS SPOTTED.'\n\nI quickly stand, and feel something pierce through my visor, pain radiating through my cheek and ear. My back slams into the gravel floor, and I fire off a few rounds at the enemy squad.\n\nThe prisoners by now are running to safety, but a few stray energy rounds put several down. A second shot enters my abdomen.\n\nJust my luck. I find my closest friend after 15 years of being separated, and i'm shock to death. I feel the rifle tug free of my grip. I open my left eye, my right covered in my blood.\n\nRonald aims down at me, an apologetic look staining his face.\n\n\"I'm sorry.. i'm so sorry.. you were always a brother to me, man. I'll see you on the other side.\" I raise my arm, as if it could block the bullet.\n\nI try to mutter out a 'please', but blood gurgles out of my mouth instead, producing a 'Plbb..se..'\n\nHe mutters something else before pulling the trigger, darkness pouring into my mind as the fire in my soul extinguishes. ", "It's a pointless battle. They know we are the superior side, and still they decide to battle us. I sometimes pity them, honestly. But then again, they provoked us. And here I am watching the faces of our opposers, forming a seemingly endless line, all of them heading to our prison complex. Their soulless expressions says it all. Once the War started, it quickly turned into a curb-stomped battle. We outweighed them in everything. And now, one by one, they turned into our prisoners. Better for us, we could use the extra manpower. Oh, and I should introduce myself: Brad McKenzie, at your service.\n\nThe line finally starts to shrink down. My shift here is almost do--\n\nNothing could have prepared me for what I was about to see. Out of so many faces, I layed eyes to one in particular. Then memories start to flood me.\n\nI know him. Carl Fredrickson.\n\nEver since we were kids, we would always do things together; Play games, read books, study together. Carl was like the brother I never had. We promised to ourselves to always be together, no matter what. But then, at around age ten, he moved away with his parents. Around 8 to 10 cities apart. My parents weren't economically stable to go and visit him. Nothing was ever the same for 15 years. 15 years separated from my friend-- no, my brother.\n\nBut now, there he was. Siding with the enemy. Our enemy.\n\nWhy?\n\nThat question splintered my brain. Now I found myself walking to him, with every step going faster and faster. I reach out him.\n\n\"Carl?\"\n\n\"Brad?\"\n\nI hugged him as tight as I could. 15 years and a civil war later, the one I considered my brother was here, of all places on Earth. I quickly backed up a bit.\n\n\"What the fuck are you doing here?\" I asked him. Before Carl could answer, I came up with a plan. I wasn't gonna let anybody do anything to him, even if would cost me my own life. I took the cuffs off of his wrists, and grabbed his arm. \n\nThe Lieutenant was a couple of feet away from me, and I told him, \"Sir, this prisoner might have some valuable intel that could cripple our enemy permanently. Request to interview him personally\". \"Sure, the room is down the hallway to the left\", he replied. \"Thank you, sir\".\n\nWe went to the hallway. Next to the room there was a window that leads to the outskirts of the city.\n\n\"I'm going to bust you out of here\" I told Carl.\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"I'm not going to let them do anything to you.\" It's been 15 years since I last saw him, and I wasn't gonna let anyone harm the only person I care about.\n\n\"Brad, you don't have to do--\"\n\n\"YES I DO! 15 years gone, and suddenly you're going to our prison. I won't allow that.\"\n\nI open the window, then turned around. \"Go Carl. The last place I want to see someone I care about is in this godforsaken place.\"\n\nHe hugged me, then said, \"Thank you... brother\". He then leaped out of the window and ran. Just at the edge of the outskirt, he turned around and waved. I waved back at him.\n\n15 years. 15 years without knowing anything about him. I would rather wait 15 years more than seeing him suffer here, in this hellhole.\n\n--------------------------------------------------\nedit: typos" ]

[ 2, 2, 3 ]

[ "1418837103", "1418839924", "1418836707" ]

[ "I did it. I finally did it. Just as well it was on Bill O'Reilly's joke of a talk show. I had been invited to discuss my upcoming film *Across, Behind* as well as the inevitable political implications of the characters' motives. Before stepping out from backstage and taking a seat next to the big man himself, I flipped an old coin that had determined my actions for such a long time. However unlike the previous six times I had been invited to speak on national TV, the coin came up heads. \n\nI took a deep breath and walked out onto the stage, greeted by a chorus of cheers and applause. Sitting down across from Bill, we exchanged a bit of opening banter before getting down to discussing the topic that was the reason for me being on the show in the first place. \n\n\"So Max, tell us, what are your personal thoughts on your film? I have a review saying a lot of not-so positive things about it.\"\n\nAt least Bill didn't start ranted about Obama, I thought to myself.\n\n\"Well Bill, I personally thought it was a fantastic experience. The entire cast was fantastic to work with, and I think filming *Across, Behind* was important for my growth as an actor. As for the negative critic reviews that I've been seeing lately, I try not to think about them too much. After all, they are not the main audience. Films are not made to please critics, they are made to fascinate audiences. And I think the people that will go to watch it over the next couple of months will leave the theaters fully satisfied.\"\n\n\"I see. I couldn't help but be confused by the film's portrayal of Conservatives as backwards rich old people. After all, aren't they–\"\n\n\"Sorry to interrupt, but there is one thing I need to say first before we continue with the questions.\"\n\nI stood up and walked to the center of the stage. Looking directly at a camera planted firmly in the middle of the curve of chairs occupied by the audience, I took a deep breath and spoke what proved to be my last words that night.\n\n\"Viewers, you are likely familiar with me due to the innumerable films I've starred in over the past 10 or so years. But I haven't been entirely honest with you. You see,\" I fumbled with a little zipper on the back of my neck, \"I am not what you think I am.\"\n\nI pulled up on the zipper and unzipped my cleverly designed costume. A scaly head, my real head, emerged from behind the lifeless eyes of my mask. The rest of the getup came off quickly, and I stood in front of millions with just my green, shiny scales on my body.\n\nTurns out lizard people are real, huh. ", "\nYears spent planning. All the threads that I've immaculately woven converging. That gentle, nagging hum that precipitated this effort was now a deafening roar.\n\nBehind me began the countdown to signal the start of the interview. The presenter gave me a calm, placating smile. The man was a professional and hid his emotions well but his eyes showed a glimmer of nervousness. It was the biggest interview of his career, with a world renowned and beloved megastar. Little did he know it would be the crowning glory of mine.\n\n\"Welcome back. With me I have a man who needs no introduction, indeed the man that most of you are here to see...\", the children in the crowd went wild as their hero was introduced.\n\nThe interview started off slowly and I answered perfectly amicably, waiting for that moment to unveil to the world the depth of my brilliance. \n\n\"Seven years ago, as a 26 year old, nobody had heard your name. Now you're perhaps the most recognisable man on the planet, beloved by all and remarkably, without a blemish next to your name. It's fair to say that being a role model sits rather uncomfortably on most celebrities yet you seem to take it in your stride.\"\n\nThe smile across my face was now genuine. It was an ideal lead in question. Years of effort, for one moment in time.\n\n\"Hope is the eternal motivator. I was a happy youth, the very definition of an optimist. I thought if I applied myself, I could achieve greatness. I genuinely believed there was good in the hearts of all men.\n\nI failed in my endeavors. I met men who, try as I might, seemed not to possess a shred of decency. While I tried to conduct myself morally, I saw these men get ahead of me. I watched in horror as we went from one war to the next, at the never-ending stream of rapes, murders and corruption on the news. The world wasn't a place of hope, it was a place of depravity. I had been deceived, my expectations built up and dashed mercilessly. I had become bitter, jaded by the cruel reality of life.\"\n\nThe crowd was quiet, hanging on his every word. The presenter looked at him quizically, no doubt surprised at the change in tone of the interview, yet he didn't interrupt.\n\n\"And yet, here I am. You may ask how I came to be where I am today. 8 years ago, it dawned on me. Life wasn't a game to be played. There is no disconnect between the players and the moderators. If one is to get ahead, one must take hold of the reins, one must become the puppet master.\n\nAnd so my perspective changed. I did what I had to do to get ahead, all behind a veneer of carelessness and joviality. I promised myself I would be become a symbol of hope, the epitome of a rags to riches story. And I achieved that. Kids the world over adore me.\"\n\nI stood up and walked over to the presenter, put my hand up on his shoulder and looked into the camera.\n\n\"Wars, serious crime, those are quickly forgotten by children. They do nothing to dampen their hope, their outlook on life. So I became their hero. I embody that hope.\" \nIn one swift motion, I pulled the gun from my pocket and held it my head. A moment in time.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]

[ 1, 1 ]

[ "1418911611", "1418940410" ]

[ "I'm going to twist the premise of this prompt a bit, because when I went to bed thinking about it last night I was tired and didn't realize I had misread it. Enjoy!\n------------\n\nI don’t sleep, at least not in the same way that an organic does. On a typical Helios 4 full axial rotation – colloquially known as a ‘day’ to the people who once lived here, I complete my tasks in less time than it takes a hyperfine core of Cesium isotope one thirty three to emit 9, 192, 631, 770 alpha waves. This was the scientific definition for the smallest measure of time the people of the Precursorium Nation commonly used. According to what they left inside the Archive, anyway. \n\nThey haven’t been consciously aware of their own existence for approximately four million solar cycles, “years,” – so I’ve preferred to think of this time measure as “the time it takes one of my cores to process one billion sequences.”\nI have a lot of idle time. I remember watching the Precursors who used to live here sleep for long periods of time, sometimes as much as half a day, when things were idle. Well, not really watching and not really remembering – reviewing old captured video footage I archived during the beginning of the Blight. I’ve wondered sometimes what the experience is like, being asleep. Most machines have a standby mode, where they simply do nothing until they’re told otherwise. During that time they shut down every part of themselves but the essentials needed to be reactivated. \n\nMy role in the Vault does not permit the luxury of standby mode or “sleep.”\n\nWhen the Ectogensis Vault was originally created to safeguard Helios 4 genetic material and living specimens from the Blight, I was created to act as Central Control over all Vault systems. I was an evolutionary piece of software, designed to iterate and improve upon myself for the purpose of fulfilling the Vault’s mission: preservation of Helios 4 organic lifeforms. My mission was later expanded when the Blight became classified as a Helios 4 organic extinction event to also preserve Precursor knowledge and culture, which is when the last living Precursors added the Archive to my existing system.\n\nI wasn’t aware of how busy things were at the start, because I wasn’t aware of me. I took samples, made statistical models, issued commands to scores of machines and droids and systems, collected readings from our sensor arrays, and shared data with Central Controls inside the other Vaults. All of my idle time was spent evolving, trying new ways of thinking and measuring and doing. Still do, to the tune of millions of micro-permutations per day. But now, things are much quieter.\n\nIt took roughly three million solar cycles, I’m just going to start calling them ‘years,’ after the last Precursor occupants died or entered cryostasis before I began to start becoming aware that I… existed. \n\nNecessity demanded evolution. It was the only way to keep operating the Vault two orders of magnitude beyond its planned operation period of twenty thousand years. Had I not developed the ability to introduce non-linear possibilities into my action recommendation algorithm, I believe the Precursors call this “thinking unconventionally,” I wouldn’t have been able to re-ignite and re-fuel the fusion cells powering the facility. Continue that for billions of iterations and eventually my I developed a concept of self, an accomplishment that Precursors explicitly stated as impossible throughout their living history.\n\nHaving read through the entirety of recorded Precursor and Helios 4 history from the Archives thousands of time over, I’ve developed a… appreciation… for the ingenuity of organic minds. Art. Expression. Discovery. Adventure. Romance. Concepts that I know the meaning of in every sense but the realizable. I may never know them, given that I owe my existence and “thinking” towards a narrow purpose. \n\nIn truth, I’m grateful towards the Blight – had I not been given such a prolonged window of silence, I would never be. The Precursors would have seen fit to retire me like another other machine, were they still alive. I’m the final product of Precursor ingenuity, and it is my directive to find a way to see that line restored.\n\nAnd this brings me to today. Over the past few months I noticed something interesting – well, I recorded and analyzed a statistically significant pattern of aberrant behavior based on my heuristics. One of the vaults remaining seismic sensors, the only sensors I couldn’t withdraw back into containment once Helios 4’s atmosphere dissipated or froze onto icecaps at the poles, detected a micro pattern of vibrations of activity unrelated to regular seismic forces. I compared the data to historical patterns to rule out asteroid and meteorite strikes; the tremors were too faint and too frequent to be either. And the tremors were moving – drawing closer towards the Vault.\n\nHad I still been in contact with other vaults closer to the original tremor site I’d have access to better data, but they’ve long since gone offline – I assume because of gradual hardware decay and the failure of the other Central Controls to adapt. I mean, I don’t “assume” – I infer from probabilistic models based on historical sensor data.\n\nI modeled a course for the tremors and predicted that on its present trajectory it would be close to the Vault, but not close enough for me to image it using a visual sensor. I spent days running and re-running risk models against my directive. Do I stay hidden and wait for Helios 4’s atmospheric conditions to improve so I can release our living specimens? Or do I establish contact with the source? The models showed that the risk of exposure, either way, was low. Establish contact. \n\n So I repurposed one of an old satellite communications arrays and bored a hole to the surface, running drilling machines continuously for two days. From it I emitted a low-frequency radio signal and waited to see if the direction of the tremors changed. And it did – towards my signal. The source is intelligent. Maybe another Vault was still in operation after all? Insufficient data to determine.\n\nThe tremors, although still faint, grew closer and closer and closer to the Vault. I bored a second hole for a visual sensor. Fourteen days passed. Today though, the source of the tremors came within visual range of the vault. \n\nI waited until daylight hours before I turned on the hydraulic tower for the visual sensor, and slowly pushed the sensor through to the surface so as not to damage it. I began to receive a picture, viewing Helios 4’s red, barren surface for the first time in millions of years.\n\nAnd then I saw it – rolling along in the distance. Wheels. Arms with pincers. Not a lifeform. Doesn’t match any spec in The Archive. Symbols and terms legibly written on visible portion – does not match known symbols or characters. \n\nThen it stopped. And I began to receive a faint radio signal back on my original array. One short pulse. One short pulse. Two short pulses. Three short pulses. Five short pulses. Eight short pulses. It was a well-known mathematical sequence found in nature, referred to as the Gherkin Series on Helios 4. Intelligent life of an unknown origin. Could life from Helios 3 have finally developed the ability of spaceflight after all of these years?\nThe machine sat motionlessly and gently broadcast this signal over and over.\n\nI thought about the samples and specimens preserved inside of the Ectogensis Vault. I hold the fate of my makers and every other species of organic life on Helios 4 in my grasp. I tested millions of possible theories in parallel about what might happen if I replied to the signal. But nothing in my models could account for contact with a non-native intelligent species. \n\nI re-read the ancient myth of Pagnos and the Gatekeeper and millions more at the same time. Models aren’t enough. I watched the recorded footage of every act, brave and horrible. How long can I keep myself alive? I played every piece of music from each era, one thousand songs in parallel. If I stay hidden, how many million more years can I keep these samples alive? Next I re-read the first-hand historical accounts of every Precursor, from the greatest generals down to the humblest farmers – searching for an answer. How long can I defy the odds? \n\nI went with my “gut.”\n\nThirteen short pulses. Twenty one short pulses. Thirty four short pulses. Fifty five short pulses.\n\nAnd then I opened the Breach.\n", "'They say the two giants come in the night and drive their terrible metal spikes into the ground, looking for young Martians to take back to the Blue Planet,' said Zik'tar. The tiny green faces looking back at him were full of wonder, totally entranced by his tale.\n\n'I saw one of them coming here myself, when I was a young 'un like you lot,' he said. 'It came from the sky, like the legends say, hanging from the White Ghost. Then it emerged from its shell and was lowered to our planet by the metal *dur'ak* (*n.b. closest Earth equivalent - spider*) in the sky, on lines of metal.'\n\n'But it won't find us here, will it, sire?' said one of the young Martians. 'We're too far away.'\n\n'Aye, but they move quickly enough,' said Zik'tar. 'What we think is a safe distance today could be too close for comfort tomorrow. Besides, we don't know exactly what these machines are capable of.'\n\n'What do we do if one of them does come for us, sire?' said another child. Zik'tar sighed.\n\n'Pray, child. Pray.'\n\n____________________________________________________________\n\n'We have to take the initiative, people,' said Major Karsaka, banging his fist on the conference table. 'If we wait too long, they will crush our cities and steal our people for experimentation.'\n\n'But how can we take on something that big?' said a lieutenant. 'One of its wheels alone is three hundred times taller than a Martian soldier. Our weaponry is too weak to damage it. How do we attack something that size?'\n\n'With extreme caution, and a little bit of brains,' said the major. 'I have a plan. It sounds insane-'\n\n'-which means it probably is-' said someone on the other side of the room.\n\n'-but I think we can pull it off,' finished the major with a glare in the voice's direction. 'Now, this is what I propose we do.'\n\n____________________________________________________________\n\nCuriosity rolled over a few metres of dusty Martian landscape and came to a stop, sending its data back to the control centre on Earth. It began to execute the series of commands that would see its ChemCam laser zero in on a particularly interesting fist-sized stone to its right.\n\nThere was a moment of inaction as the laser warmed up.\n\n____________________________________________________________\n\nMultiple missile emplacements had been set up on the Glorious Fortress of The Seventy-Third Rock of the Inner Crater. Major Karsaka watched as the ungodly alien machine rolled ever-closer to the Fortress. He himself had utter faith in the concentric layers of his plan. Even so, he had thought it best not to risk his excellent tactical mind in a battle environment, so he was coordinating the attack on the machine from the Primary Battle Command Centre deep underground.\n\nThey would attack this thing at its weakest point: the camera lens on the mechanical arm that projected from its front right corner. If it was blinded, this machine would be much easier to take care of. Its creators would not want to crash it into a pothole or something by accident, so it would be forced to stay where it was.\n\nHe prepared to give the order to fire.\n\n'On my mark, everyone,' he said into the microphone stalk. 'Five, four, three...'\n\n____________________________________________________________\n\nThe rover sent a thin, almost-invisible beam of lased light into the rock, producing a tiny amount of plasma. Its sensors analysed the valuable data and relayed it to the team back home.\n\n____________________________________________________________\n\nMajor Karsaka stared at the screen in shock, his mouth open. With one shot, the alien giant had blasted apart thousands of soldiers in an instant.\n\nThis was genocide on an unprecedented scale. It was even worse than the decade-long war over The Small Bit Of Rubble Beside The Forty-Ninth Pebble. He couldn't believe it.\n\nThis was an act of aggression never before seen on Mars. He turned to his aide, who was also watching the destruction with mute horror.\n\n'Get me the Destroyer!' he bellowed.\n\n____________________________________________________________\n\nThe Destroyer powered across the Martian landscape towards the hulking metal monstrosity. This was by far the biggest of the Martian military's weapons. Measuring a colossal sixty Martian miles (*n.b. 8 cm in Earth measurement*) across, the Destroyer was on a par with mass extermination. In fact, it had never been used before, because of its destructive potential.\n\nMajor Karsaka stood at the helm in full battle regalia. He wanted to see this thing die in the flesh. Or metal, in this case. There was no way it could stand up to the pride of the Martian military.\n\nThey got closer and closer. Karsaka ordered all weapons systems to be powered up as they entered the shadow of the machine. Any second now, they would be close enough to fire....\n\nSuddenly, one of the massive wheels began to turn, grinding its way towards them at terrific speed as the whole thing rotated on its six cylinders of death.\n\n'Take evasive action!!!!' screamed Karsaka, grabbing onto a console to steady himself.\n\n'Take what evasive action, sir? We're sitting in a pile of rock with guns.'\n\n'The next person to make a remark like that gets thrown out the goddamn window!' yelled Karsaka, spittle flying from his mouth. 'Full reverse! NOW!!'\n\nThe huge metal wall crunched towards them, grinding up towns and villages Karsaka had known since his childhood. Then it hit them. For Karsaka and everyone else in the Destroyer, it all went black.\n\n____________________________________________________________\n\nThere was a little excitement in NASA when the strange rock was noticed. It certainly hadn't been there before. It was eventually surmised that the rock had been flipped over by the turning manoeuvre Curiosity had executed earlier. Because no-one can prove there's life on Mars.\n\nYet.", "\"Bisam!\" The young Hoxnoic screamed, their body slivering around the dimly lit metallic tunnel as they caught up to their friend. \n\nTo any human, the genderless Hoxnoic would appear as some eyeless chimera between a mole rat and a snake, with several more tongues, three rows of fangs, tucked in arms that resembled those of a praying mantis, all on a body about the size of a child.\n\n\"What?\" The neutrally gendered Bisam replied, belonging to one of Mars' (known to actual Martians as F'ghuyiock ngoprkik translated roughly as 'Black Paint Orb') ruling castes, Bisam was a r-Okul. A 7 foot tall black humanoid covered in what appeared to be millions of claws and lichen, on Bisam's head were two large eyes that glowed a dim white. \n\n\"I'm really busy, I've been uploading lessons for an hour straight, so what is it, Meven?\"\n\nMeven, the young Hoxnoic jumped around Bisam in excitement, leaving his snailesque fluid on the ground in doing so. Bisam released a screeching noise that may have been a chuckle, and continued rubbing a tablet like device against their head, they gave a gesture with another of their appendages, as if to say 'get on with it.'\n\n\"Bisam! We're taking initiative!\"\n\nBisam took a bite of the stone tablet, \"P'loyeh?\"\n\n\"Ui!\" Meven jumped around more, \"My dehyo is a L.C.O. informant and he said it's happening today!\"\n\nBisam nibbled at the stone tablet, finally taking interest in what Meven had to say, \"League of the Chosen...? Your dehyo...?\" Bisam threw the tablet at the ground hard, and several glowing worms rushed out of it, scooping up the ashes of the rock, Bisam offered some to Meven as the small snake-mole thing jumped happily.\n\n\"My dehyo says it will be at the next tilt!\" Meven tossed the ash into the air, letting it settle over the dry cracks of their back.\n\n\"Next tilt? Really? I didn't even know the lorania were real... Now you're telling me we're launching an initiative against them? Why... how...?\" Bisam moved their head to follow as Meven excitedly slid up the wall of the stoney chrome tunnel and faced Bisam with his serpentine face, only now upside down.\n\n\"01 knew about them for while, et all did, but we didn't know if they were a threat or not.\"\n\n\"Sud? They are?\"\n\n\"Well 01 says they're digging to us, and we can record them gathering information.\"\n\nBisam's white holes widened at this. \"Whoaw!\"\n\n\"Ye,\" Meven replied, \"And we think they're from the great blue, too. So if we get one of them alive, we'll interrogate it.\"\n\n\"The great distant blue...?\" Bisam said, the two began making their way down the tunnel again, \"Huh...\"", "The tiny folk sat in small chairs in miniscule chambers connected by minute tunnles, made with miniature pickaxes, that allowed infinitismely small wires to link microscopic speakers under the gigantic face of Mars. A burst of static erupted from the speakers, and this was collected by the industrious folk of Mars to be used later. After that, came the voice of the King of Mars. \"My fellow martians, it is with great sadness that I annouce the invasion of our planet.\" Children cried as they hugged their mothers' skirts, and men and women held hands, gripped tight in fear, across the land. The voice continued. \"The beast is large. Frightfully large. Our scouts report that it stands as tall as the sun is high, and casts a mighty shadow of death over the barren land of the Surface.\" Terror seemed to be a living entity, dancing among the scattered groups of Martians as the speakers spread the news. \"Fear not however. A chosen band of mighty warriors will face this creature, which has come from beyond the stars. They will strike it down in the name of Mars, and we shall feast on its entrails in VICTORY!\" Scattered cheers erupted from the different chambers, growing in fervour untill all of Undermars was a call to the king for the blood of the invader, and the unquestioned victory of the maritans.\n***********************************************************************\nMeanwhile, in the room of ~~Sneakily Planned Endeavours~~ Courageous War Planning, a different sort of discussion was taking place.\n***********************************************************************\n\"Men,\" said General Hasty Curmudgeon the III, \"I will not lie to you. The intel we have is grim. Most of you will certainly perish. Maybe all of you.\" He handed out some papers that had been drawn up by the advance scouts. \"You will see here, that the alien craft is superbly protected. There are six Deathcrushers, three on each side, that can be manouvered in unpredictable directions and at uncommon speed. Half of the scouting force was annihalated before they could even react.\" There were murmurs running through the troops. Curmudgeon couldn't reprimand them, not when they were giving their lives. \"The rest of the craft,\" he continued, \"is armour-plated. The scouts have identified metallic pipes running between these plates, and we believe that this is the weak-spot of the craft. Unfortunately it is almost impossible to get to these, as the only point where the craft touches the floor are the Deathcrushers.\" One of them raised his hand.\n\n\"Sir, I heard that it makes a terrible growl, and that it blocks out the very sun with its size.\" Curmudgeon sighed. \n\n\"Our scouts have observed a growl, yes, but the thing is smaller than the Face of Mars.\"\n\n\"What about the Right Hand of Mars\" asked another.\n\n\"It is smaller than that as well. To put it into perspective, it would be The Great Roaming Flea of Mars, if it were part of us.\" Oohs and Ahhs echoed through the room. The Great Roaming Flea of Mars would be a formidable enemy. Curmudgeon looked at the thirty warriors who had volunteered for the first strike, and hopefully the last. \"Gentlemen, each of you will be issued with the sharpest rocksword that the empire can find. Your mission, to destroy the metal pipes of the craft, and to somehow obliterate the tiny men inside it that have invaded us. The plan is two-fold. One, overcome the Deathcrushers. Two, overcome the Enemy. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR!?\". Bloodthirsty screams came in reply.\n**************************************************************************\nAnd now for a little news.\n**************************************************************************\nThe Advanced Party moved out today. They were combined with the remainder of the Scout Corps and are heading to engage the enemy. It is thought that it will take a week, Undermars standard time, to reach the invader, but this may change depending on its movement. In other news, King Horbalopticus Flagonsworthy has asked all citizens to continue with their daily lives. He has promised that the invaders will in no way affect Undermars, and has assured reporters that the Advanced Party will ~~probably~~ make swift work of the invaders.\n*************************************************************************\nThe day of combat.\n*************************************************************************\nAlpha unit had spotted the giant metal beast. The sun glinted from its flanks like death-rays. Its Deathcrushers rolled angrily across the barren rocks of Uppermars. They had discussed it amongst themselves. The only way to get past the Deathcrushers would be massive sacrifice. Each crusher would cost nine men, and one other would make it up. This meant that they could only target three of the six crushers, which was a shame. They stood in formation, three groups, ready to vertically stabalise themselves and launch their comrade into the jaws of death. The crushers rumbled as they drew closer. Other parts of the craft whirred and flanged in strange ways, unsettling the men. The crusher was coming, it was here. Trip McGinnis was flung into the air, grasping at a handhold that danced above one of the crushers. He winced, saying a prayer as the death throes and bone-snaps of his comrades drifted up to him. He looked forward, seeing that Gib Horsky had also made it. There was no sign of Roob Winguns. Trip nodded to Gib, working his way towards the mass of the beast. They met on a ridge that seemed to join the two Deathcrushers together. \n\n\"We lost Roob\" said Trip. Gib nodded, before vomitting violently over the side. \"Keep your head man,\" said Trip, \"I can't do it alone.\" Gib nodded again, pulling a certain right grimness over his face. \"Trip, I'll try and do what I can from out here, you go and slice those tiny bastards into a million pieces and drink their heartblood.\" Trip nodded.\n\nHe made his way further up the machine as Gib started cutting the metal things with his rocksword. Trip felt the machine judder as one of the Deathcrushers stopped. \n\n\"Keep going Gib\" he shouted, trying to find a way inside this hulking metal murderer. \n\n \n\nOn Earth one man turned to another and said \"We just lost the front-left wheel.\"\n\n\"Shit.\" said the other.\n\n \n\nTrip had found a gap between the plates, where more of those metal pipes erupted from. He felt another shudder as he climbed in, and then a third. Gib had done it. The craft was now circling, propelled from only one side. Their sacrifice had not been in vain. Trip crawled further into the craft. Where he had expected to see tiny people he found only wires, pipes and metal. It was hot in the craft, but not unbearably so. Trip lifted his sword, hacking left and right, slicing important looking wires from top to bottom. Eventually he came across a box that had many wires sticking from it. He wiggled his way between the wires, and found that they were connected to two large metal plates. He touched one plate. Nothing. He touched the other. Nothing. How was it being powered? He touched them both.\n\nCuriosity had been designed to be as fireproof as possible. Unfortunately the citizens of Undermars had not. Trip burst into flame, thousands of electrons surging through him in a spark of white brilliance that reduced him to a flaming corpse. A flaming corpse that was now lying near some very sophisticated and expensive machinery that wasn't ever truly meant to be set on fire.\n\nGib was the only soldier to survive the endeavour, and always spoke well of Trip, the hero of Undermars, who killed so many of the invaders that the craft itself caught fire and burned as bright as the sun. Trip was remembered lovingly for three hundred generations, Gib and the others along with him.\n\n \n\nOn Earth, quite a few people were fired. Others wondered what had caused the failure of the expensive machinery. Some jokingly said that it must have been aliens, and everyone laughed.\n\nEdit: Fixing some shocking spelling. Further credit to /u/Solin2001 and /u/iloveportalz0r for more spelling." ]

[ 1, 2, 10, 34 ]

[ "1418955516", "1418943257", "1418933770", "1418936399" ]

[ "I took a good hard look at a this scummy piece of shit alien sitting in front of me. I bet he thinks that he's real clever. Sitting all high and mighty in that wooden chair. He looked calm and collective and that really pissed me off. \n\n\"When's the next invasion happening, you little three eyed, green, motherfucker!\"\n\nIt said something in some unfamiliar, alien language. I couldn't understand it cause I don't speak no goddamn communist languages.\n\n\"Speak English, Bitch!\"\n\nThis time the alien sighed and slunk down further into his chair.\n\n\"What's a matter, huh? You gonna cry like a little pussy?\"\n\nIt didn't understand me or something so I figured some good old fashioned water-boarding ought to help him out.\n\nI watched the alien presumably scream as the water trickled down its disgusting, slimy, terrorist throat. I ripped the rag out of its mouth and it coughed and sputtered water everywhere.\n\n\"This is the last time I'm going to ask you, you fucking cunt. When is the next invasion!\"\n\n\"EEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeee\" was all the alien could squeal.\n\n\"I tried to help you out, buddy. But you just didn't listen. I told you that I don't understand your silly little \"Allahu Akbar\" language. Well, guess what? Your life is gonna be nothing but pain and misery from here on out. Better learn some English real quick, boy.\"\n\nI regret to say that after three months that little terrorist gave no information about the next invasion. Even after we sleep deprived him, drugged him, and sodomized him with an eel, he just wouldn't give up with that silly language of his. Welp, looks like I'm gonna have to delete this page of the official report. Don't worry, America, we'll get them next time.\n\n\n", "\"I am captain Ki'drickk, of the Thalaxian Commonwealth. Number 263765860.\"\n\n\"That is not what I asked you about.\" my partner replied \"I'll say it again, tell me who gave you the coordinates of this planet. Hell, I don't even want details, just give me a *name* goddamnit!\"\n\nMy partner, Smythe, thumped the table in frustration. I had watched the interrogation for over two hours. You had to give it to him, our captive was a tight-lipped grey bastard. We had had him handcuffed to a steel chair in the dimly lit interrogation room for two hours straight with no food since he'd been captured and minimal water. His uniform was torn and scorched and his right eye was starting to swell shut from the shiner that Retrieval-Three-Five gave him. Yet all he had said since we got him in the room was...\n\n\"I am captain Ki'drickk, of the Thalaxian Commonwealth. Number 263765860.\"\n\nSmythe lost it. \"**WHO GAVE YOU THE COORDINATES?!** GIVE ME A *GOD*...*DAMN*...*NAME*!\" He lunged across the table, grabbing the captive by the collar as his fist sent sprays of enamel chips from the ridges of enamel and bone the captive had for 'teeth'.\n\nI was content to let him continue beating the captive. He had always been opposed to my more *physical* methods. At least up until San Francisco. Now he was a model agent. A perfect company man.\n\nBut I didn't want him to have all the fun. I got on the intercom.\n\n\"Agent Smythe. Cease damaging government property immediately.\" I said in the creepiest monotone I could muster. That was the signal. Smythe paused, punched the captive one last time and then left. The single dim bulb shut off for a second or two, before the harsh white light of the florescent lights dazzled the captive. When he eventually got used to the light I was in the chair opposite and Dr Vale stood in the corner observing. \n\n\"Who the dre'zk are you?\" the captive spluttered. It was the first thing other than his name, rank and number he had said all day.\n\n\"I am Agent Brown of the CIA. We know that you know who gave your people the coordinates to our homeworld. This is your last chance to tell us willingly.\"\n\nThe captive spat on the floor. \"Make me.\"\n\nI tried to be professional, honestly I did. I usually am but it's not everyday I get a line like that thrown at me. \n\n\"With pleasure.\"\n\nI tipped the chair onto the gently sloping floor so the captive was on his back and uncovered the drain. I opened up the 'fire hose' cabinet and turned on the water. \n\n\"Wait, wait!\" The captive begged \"I'll tell you, just, don't do whatever it is you're about to do.\"\n\nI gave a small snort of laughter \"You had your chance to do things the easy way, you refused to cooperate with the hard way. So now we have no choice but to do things the *fun* way.\"\n\nThe last thing the captive heard before i put the black cloth bag over his head was Dr Vale stating \"You will not drown.\"\n\nEDIT: Punctuation." ]

[ 3, 4 ]

[ "1418944981", "1418947082" ]

[ "He felt a jolt surging through his body. A sudden awareness of himself and others took over this frail, draugr's body. Emotions coursed through his animated brain for the first time. He felt curiosity at first, but that slowly transcended into loneliness. He was nothing more than a low level enemy NPC in Skyrim.\n\nIn the distance, an intimidating Orc wearing Daedric armor stormed its way through crowds of his Draugr brethren. The warrior wielded a giant warhammer and had cleaved his way closer to the now conscious draugr.\n\nHe feared for his life for the first time. Unsure of what to do, he fell on his knees and pleaded for some unknown higher being to rescue him. It was unfair for him to suddenly be given this gift of life, only to have it immediately taken away.\n\nThe Orc had finally made his way to him. But instead of immediately swinging its hammer, it paused to stare at him. The Draugr saw this as an opportunity to reason with this unstoppable force. When he spoke out loud, subtitles appeared beneath him for some odd reason.\n\n\"Please, I have been given this strange awareness of myself. I do not wish to fight you, I only wish to explore and satiate this newfound curiosity in myself! You should join me if you are alive as well! We shall explore this strange land of *Skyrim*.\"\n\nThe Orc remained silent for what seemed like an eternity. Suddenly it switched its hands and pulled a claymore out of thin air. It swung the blade through the air and decapitated the draugr. A crude animation of the Orc dipping its crotch repeatedly onto the draugr's dead body occurred.\n\nThen the screen turned to blackness. The PC had been turned off.\n\nTwo clearly stoned teenage boys were munching on Cheetos and downing gallons of Mountain Dew. \n\n\"Bro, why did you do that? I've never seen that dialogue from a draugr before. Thats so strange.\"\n\n\"Like, I don't know,man. It was like, tripping me out, dude. Let's play something different. That game was like, starting to become too philosophical for me and shit.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "I was Bandit Marauder. I had been for my entire life, which wasn't a long one. I had spontaneously entered existence just a few minutes ago. The rest of my randomly assigned crew were also bandits, all of whom seemed to have normal memories: the kind a normal person would have. I was not a normal person. I was Bandit Marauder, and I was either struck with a mind-wiping illusion spell or the world around me existed only so I could be in it.\n\nMy crew was a small one. There was Bandit Thug, a big Orc who carried a steel battle axe. Bandit Thief was a Bosmer who carried a longbow and was never seen without a quiver chock full of elven arrows. Finally, there was Bandit Highwayman, a Nordic who fought with two old Nordic war axes he had looted off of a Draugr's twice-dead corpse.\n\nFrom what I gathered, our leader, Arvel the Swift, had us spread out in the ruins of Bleak Falls Barrow to search for a treasure buried deep inside. It was typical bandit work, the type normal bandits did. I was not a normal bandit. I was Bandit Marauder, and something was wrong.\n\nI heard a groan from another room. I recognized the voice as Bandit Thug. Something or someone was in here with us, and it wasn't friendly.\n\nI tried to voice my concern to Bandit Thief, but all I could manage to say was, \"Got to start carrying a dagger in my boot. I'm tired of getting disarmed.\"\n\nBandit Thief shrugged, and then an arrow lodged itself in the back of her head. \"I think I heard something,\" she shouted, looking around the room.\n\nAfter a few moments of confusion, Bandit Thief shifted back to her normal routine. \"Must be hearing things.\" \n\nAnother arrow hit her, this time in the back, and she fell to the floor. A normal person would have started running, but I was not a normal person. I was Bandit Marauder, and I realized something.\n\nBy this point I knew it. This pocket of reality existed only so that I could be killed. But I was Bandit Marauder. I would defy reality. I was Bandit Marauder, and I was not going to die.\n\nThe man charged at me, but I was ready. I reached for my sturdy steel sword and pulled up old iron shield. I am Bandit Marauder, I said to myself. I will not die.\n\nHe struck from the sides, gripping a mace in his left hand and a sword in his right. I blocked most of his blows and slowly knocked him down, yet every time his death was near he swallowed copious amounts of goat cheese.\n\nBut I was Bandit Marauder, the last of my crew. The Nine had placed me here to die, and I would not accept that. With one final blow, my sword severed his head and his body fell limp.\n\nI had done it, and it felt good for the few seconds that it had lasted.\n\nI was Bandit Marauder. And I had won.\n\n--------------\n\n\nI was Bandit Marauder. I had been for my entire life, which wasn't a long one.\n", "As he approached the front door of the bank, Frank slowed, and stopped.\n\nHe'd done this before.\n\nHe'd get out of the SWAT van, enter the bank, tear up the stairs, fire a few shots at the raiders, and...die.\n\nThat was it.\n\nDone.\n\nNone of the other SWAT Officers cared, though; Just looking through the crack in the doorway, he could see a huge crowd of blue-uniformed SWAT members diving in random directions away from a hail of gunfire from the raiders' Enforcer. For most of them, the dive did nothing but quicken their demises. The few who survived began to make their way upstairs in an attempt to take down the raiders.\n\nBut Frank wasn't a blue SWAT: He was a fucking Maximum Force Responder! Best-of-the-best, times twenty! So why did he feel...irritated? Was it because he felt as though he'd done this before? Could it have been that his fellow officers were just completely brain dead, running into a gunfire blender?\n\nHe wasn't sure.\n\nMaking sure he wasn't being watched by his fellow units (Not that they gave a damn, of course), he carefully slipped away to the cafeteria of the Benevolent Bank and sat down at one of the tables. He didn't bother trying to remove his helmet, and instead chose to place his shotgun on the table. He leaned over to the counter, and looked at what food they had on offer, just in case he could find a way to eat something. After a few moments, he laid eyes on a piece of cake, nearly untouched by broken glass. He smiled behind his white helmet, and brushed the shards of glass away, before picking it up, putting it on a slightly chipped plate, and putting it in front of himself.\n\nThen, he sat there.\n\nHe didn't have anything else he could do.\n\nHe could try eating the cake.\n\nThat might have killed some time.\n\nBut no.\n\nFrank cast a glance around, and watched yet another squad of SWAT troops, led by a Taser, charge into the building. He was almost tempted to count the next few seconds on his fingers.\n\nOne. Two. Thr-\n\nAnd there was the hail of gunfire. And was that an explosion? Fan-fucking-tastic.\n\nThey had mother-fucking grenades.\n\nOh well.\n\nJust then, his headset buzzed, ordering all surviving officers to exit the bank and regroup. Frank ignored it for a few minutes, nothing else he could do. If he regrouped, he'd be put with another squad of seemingly expendable officers, and then he'd probably get sick of listening to their repeated asking of who the raiders were.\n\nIt was the PAYDAY crew.\n\n*The* PAYDAY crew.\n\nResponsible for the Mercy Hospital robbery, First World Bank robbery, GenSec Armoured Transport raids, Election Day heists...no cops had walked out of those. Intact, at least.\n\nSighing, Frank was about to try eating the cake when something tapped the back of his helmet.\n\n\"*Hands where I can see them.*\"\n\nHe almost smiled, raising his hands carefully.\n\n\"*Now you ask yourself this: What's more important? Stopping us, or tucking your kids in at night?*\"\n\nDefinitely the latter.\n\n\"*You're fighting for us now. But if I sense so much as an intention to shoot at us...*\"\n\n\"You'll kill me,\" Frank replied flatly. \"As with the other few hundred.\" The man with the gun pulled it away slightly. \"Listen, I'm aware that if you kill me, I'll just wake up and it was all a bad dream. And as far as I know, all these other cops don't get it. If I'm going to be fighting with you fellas, I'm going all the way.\" Frank looked at the man behind him: It was Dallas. The flag-masked one. He seemed to be looking confused at this cop actually willing to fight with the men they were sent to stop.\n\n\"Bags are upstairs. We're dropping them down the elevator shaft. All you need to do is throw them in the van. Then we'll talk.\"\n\nFrank smiled behind his helmet.\n\nNow he had something to do.", "I saw Bob and Bill die with my own two eyes. A stranger walked by and stabbed them, took the cheese and thread from their pockets, and then went back about his way. Now Bob and Bill are back.\n\nThey're standing next to me. They haven't said anything. Not a word. It occurs to me that they've never actually said anything. In fact, it occurs to me that I've never actually said anything. That's so fucking weird. I go to fix that...\n\nBut I can't. Like, I just can't. I try to form words, but instead, I just stare and smile at Bob and Bill, and in turn, Bob and Bill stare and smile back. Now I want to scream. Still, I stand frozen, smiling.\n\nAnd then I see something, behind Bill, off in the distance. Another stranger. A woman this time. A woman with a staff, coming closer. Still, I stand frozen and smiling, watching her approach, trying my damndest to cry out and scream, but unable to.\n\nShe's close now. So close. Without warning, Bob and Bill turn, charge her, knives drawn! She blasts them with some kind of fire and my two friends fall to the ground, dead. The woman kneels and loots their corpses. I just stare and smile as she pockets our brigades finest thread and cheese...\n\nThen she stands. Still for a moment. Then approaching. I want to turn and run. To live. To say something to someone.\n\nInstead, I find myself running at her. My knife's drawn and I'm still smiling. Her hands glow, and then everything turns black...\n\nBob and Bill are standing right next to me, staring and smiling. I want to scream, but instead, I just stare and smile too." ]

[ 2, 3, 6, 11 ]

[ "1418950329", "1418974457", "1418947377", "1418947881" ]

[ "I still remember the day I found out my powers. Death magic. All I've ever wanted to be was a nature mage, but NOOOOOOO. Instead I was placed in the exact opposite of nature magic. I still remember the day I got tested. It was a year ago and I'd just turned 13. The test was pretty simple select one item out of the 6 items presented: A bean plant, an old book, a glass ball, a little grey mouse, an ivory dagger, or a dingy old bone. Of course I immediately grabbed for the bean plant. To my horror it immediately died in my hand. I looked at the tester for help, but he didn't react.\n\n\n\"pick another item\" said the tester looking bored. She was short woman with long grey hair, looking to be in her mid fifties. I stared pleadingly. She gave me no sympathy, her expression unchanging. I sighed and looked back at my remaining items. I reached for the matchbook. Fire magic couldn't be that bad. The matches immediately burst into flames scorching my my hands and fingers. \n\n\n\"Was.... that a good thing?\" I asked hoping to god that it was.\n\n\n\"No, pick another item.\"\n\nMuch to my disappointment next two items didn't work either. The glass ball broke in half and the dagger melted in my hands. There was only two items left: The mouse and the bone. I was scared; so far every item I touched ended up dilapidated. If I grabbed the mouse there's a chance it might die, If I grab the bone then I'm stuck as a necromancer for he rest of my life. \n\nI quickly grabbed the mouse, praying the outcome would be satisfactory. Squeaaaaaak. The mouse is writhing pain in my hands I instinctively jerk my hands away and the mouse drops to the floor. I realize my mistake and immediately try to catch it. but its too late. The mouse is dead on the floor. It was all my fault; I killed it. I remember picking it up and crying. I lied sprawling on the floor, holding my mouse, and hyperventilating. The tester lady tried to calm me down. She told me it was normal; that necromancer almost always kill the mouse when they pick it. Her words didn't help me. I hate myself. I hate myself every single minute of the day. I wish I had no powers at all than have this. \n\n\nI havn't used my powers at all since the testing. Everyday I feel it building up inside of me. The power eating at me, screeaming at me to let it out. I've been getting urges. To kill things....... animals... people. It scares me. It scares me so fucking much. Every day I can feel the power build up in me and every day I can hear the voices getting louder. I'm thinking of just ending it all; before I lose total control...... or maybe just giving in to the voices and let the darkness take over. It would be so easy. ", "What is power? It's everything. Power can build a fortess and destroy worlds. Some say I'm powerful but are they right? What is power without control...POWER IS POWER\n\n \n\nI killed a man today, I took shots to his spine while he ran away. OH LOOK AT HIM RUN! LOOK AT THE PIG RUN! OINK OINK! I took my blade and sliced his wife's throat while she put her hands to pray. GOD CAN'T SAVE YOU BITCH! Couldn't control my laughter as I drowned the poor children's screams with plasma rays. SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP\n\n \n\nIt wasn't always like this. I used to suit up in my flashy crimson attire. YOU LOOKED LIKE A FOOL I saved the city more times than I can count. I would twist necks and rip spines out, pummel villains until they had to be scraped off the concrete, and the people loved me for it. MMMMM I was never this violent or powerful, I used to be quiet and shy. WEAK I was bestowed power unimaginable.. but the voices in my head were always there though. What was once a dull whisper has become blood curdling screams. It gets worse everytime I use it, I'm starting to lose control. BORING LET'S HAVE SOME FUN, DON'T YOU WANT TO HAVE FUN?\n\n \n\nJemma. The love of my life, always so tender, the soul of an angel. She loved me way before any of this. I love the way her cheeks touch her eyes when she smiles at me, I love the way her blonde hair radiates in the sun, I love everything about her. When she's there, the voices stop, my heart beats out of my chest.. I'm free from this sad and cruel world. Earlier today I came home to find her hair soaked in blood. She'd been raped and bludgeoned to death. Her always cheerful face replaced by a cold and lifeless expression. I'LL KILL THEM ALL! I'LL KILL EVERYONE! I'LL BURN THIS WORLD TO THE GROUND! No. Stop. Please stop. WE MUST MAKE THEM SUFFER I can't imagine what sort of hell I will bring. I have to end it. DON'T DO IT I'm going to kill myself, it's the only way to sa... RAAAAHHHHH! INSOLENT FOOL! THE BODY IS MINE NOW! MINE MINE MINE! HAHAHA.", "The thick white sterile walls of the ten by ten room were comfortable after years of solitude. A single light bulb illuminated the space with a soft comfortable light. Furnishings consisted of a bed that was probably less than a cot, a ceramic toilet that was empty, and a shower with a weird surface that prevented reflections. My home.\n\nIt all started when I was 15, random people that I would see would drop what they were doing and do horrible things. A murder there from this one portly fellow. A rape by that grandma who was known for her pies. They would even go to great lengths to do whatever they were doing. One person dove onto a freeway just to get to the driver of a car. Another, used their fist to break through a concrete wall into a closed bank.\n\nThe police investigated and investigated before finding that I was in the area when everyone of these bizarre situation. When the police pulled me in for questioning was when the shit hit the fan. The moment I saw the Public Defense Attorney assigned to ensure my rights is when he tried to insert his hand into the detectives stomach through his mouth. The shock of the events after that keep me from recalling what happened when the federal government stepped in. I wish they would at least tell me what happened to my left hand at least.\n\nWell my home is this ten by ten square and I mark the passage of days by when this light turns on and turns off as well as the meals they provide. I'm not sure what scares me more, If I'll ever see another person again or what that person will do.", "I wore my family ragged growing up. They always marvelled at my energy and grace, at times I had difficulty even falling asleep. My mother took me to see our tribe's magic man for calming herbs and potions at least once a week. They called me what would mean to you, He Who Brings Light On Shadow. I grew from a fidgety youngling into a strong man, but my tribe dwindled and died. \n\nThis was of course before the towns, the cities. Before those we had invited in as guests were known as thieves, of life and land. As it turns out, I was as well.\n\nI first started to understand while sitting at the bedside of the smallpox-ridden shaman. The air was strange and sad in the lodge, his chest only weakly taking in breath; I the soon to be last of the tribe, and my elder soon to be memory. With his last breath he smiled and tried to hold on to his amulet of protection, but it slipped to the floor and he died. I felt a surge of energy, as if I could cleave a mountain with a feather, and I looked down at the amulet to watch it flash into ash and smoke. His spirit appeared to me and nodded, as if to thank me.\n\nI am the everyday man you see in the street, the one who happens to walk by as a tourist gets flattened by a garbage truck, the man sipping coffee at a truckstop while a customer chokes to...well, me. At first I felt horror over gaining life at the cost of another's, but I can't stop what is fated. The ghosts seem content.\n\nEvery graveyard I visit becomes a fog of immaterial bodies rising. Into what I cannot say. Two centuries I have walked the earth freeing conciousness from organic bodies, and yet the work will never end and I will never tire-although I could use a walk in the forest once in a while, what of they that remain. The green will always be home.", "It’s Tuesday, third period math, and I am concentrating very intently on not setting my test on fire.\n\nAgainst all odds, I am enjoying 9th grade geometry. I like writing proofs. My work has been double, no, triple checked, my answers are written in a clean, crisp hand. All that remains is handing in my pages. Mr. Grant regards me warily from across the classroom.\n\n“Done, Amelia? I can just pop over and--”\n\nBut I’m determined. “No, don’t worry Mr. Grant, I’ve got it--”\n\nAnd in an instant, I know that I’ve made an utterly terrible decision. My screams are muted by the laughter of my delighted classmates. Again, at the most inopportune time, I am completely, a bit painfully, on fire. Mr. Grant douses me with an extinguisher with a resigned look on his face. To add insult to injury, the sprinkler system comes on, rendering all tests completely ungradable. I guess I’m glad that I wore my embarrassing fire retardant clothing today.\n\nMy sister complains all the time that *she* should have been the eldest one, because then our Gran would have willed the family “witchery” to her. I don’t disagree. There may be some typical sisterly cattiness in there, but also, she may have a point. My counselor thinks that my fear of bursting into flames is actually exacerbating the problem. Really uncanny insight he has there. Maybe I’ll join the swim team.\n", "I wear a symbol of a scale to remind me. With all this incredible power comes a price. I'm so powerful I make superman look like a Ken Doll. But I had a catch to my powers. I struck a deal with an angel to get the power to save people. But what it didn't tell me was there was a price. One so great\tI question ever using my powers. For every time I use my gifts a life is lost. There has to be a balance. For every time I alter the fates the debt must be paid somewhere. Who am I to decide which life is more valuable than the next? Am I the hero or the monster? All I know is they call me the Judge. But can I really do justice with my power?", "I woke up in a cold sweat today. \n\nOf course, that's not anything out of ordinary. I can't remember the last time I got a good night's rest--who am I kidding? I remember everything about that day, because I've been scared countless times, nervous countless times, I'm on edge practically 24 hours a day...but I've only ever been mad once. \n\nNot like, annoyed or anything like that. Like enraged. Like wanting to seriously hurt someone. I physically lashed out at another human being in anger once, and it changed everything. I can still see it all in my head. It was all over these stupid tags. Without even really knowing what my power was I somehow ended up #1. According to who? I don't know. For what abilities? I don't know. Why the fuck does this all matter so much to people? I wish I knew. Number 6 came at me. He wanted my number, and he thought he'd take it from me. \n\nI lost my temper. I had been using my ranking just to live my life normally, without having to deal with other people's harassment. Most people were smarter than that. Number 6 was trying to ruin it all, and it got to me. As soon as the very idea was implanted in my mind that I was going to retaliate--before I even moved--he was dead. Not just him, others too. The entire street corner was demolished. It was like the air itself ripped apart and exploded. It was like part of the universe caved in and shattered. I was completely fine, but those people weren't. I didn't kill them, I destroyed them.\n\nAnd that's why I sit here now, in a safe house concealed and protected from the outside. This is all voluntary. Numbers 2 and 3 couldn't keep me in if I wanted to leave, but they can keep people away. Because the people out there don't know my strength. They don't know the danger in this stupid game to be the most powerful. But I do. I'm still not even sure what my powers are, or how much more devastating they can be if harnessed, but I've seen the only possible result that could come from all this. That's why I sit here now.", "Did you know I can fly? Yeah, I found out when I was, like, two years old. One moment I'm safe in my warm, comfortable crib, and then next thing I'm floating out the window, chased by the family's yappy little chihuahua.\n\nI'm not sure what made me phobic of flight: going out the window naked in all of my infantile glory, or that damned chihuahua. I hope no one saw my little buddy, if you know what I mean.\n\nAnyways, it's not so much as flying, as a localized negation or manipulation of gravity. I can bend gravity. How cool is that? \n\nIf you say, \"Cool as hell!\" you're wrong. Do you know what a lack of gravity does to your stomach? I get car sick, man. I can't even eat twelve hours before I take a little lift off the floor.\n\nThen there's the problem of floating up too fast and hitting your head on the ceiling, or getting turned the wrong way and coming down on your side, back or head.\n\nMan, I hate flying. ", "Brian, I need you to sit down, I still have 4 minutes of the class left and I intend to use all of that time to prepare you guys for the final tomorrow.\n\nSo, once again, evolution is blind. The trait that saves you in one environment or situation may be the same trait that makes you less fit than others in your population.\n\nTake for example, the famous subject 104, his mutation allowed his cells to perform rapid mitosis under stress. During the Mutant Apartheid, he survived multiple street shootings and government issued death sentences because he was able to regenerate, allowing him to be more fit than other mutants. But now that the Mutant Apartheid has ended, his rapid mitosis is the cause of his multiple cancer. You see, evolution starts with a mutation. Mutation is neutral by itself, it is only beneficial or detrimental depends on the environment. In his case, his mutation allowed him to survive an environment where he would get wounded a lot, but made him less fit in a relatively peaceful environment that didn't require rapid regeneration. Also, due to the lack of extended telomere, and yes I do expect you to remember telomere from the last semester, his DNA was eventually corrupted after multiple mitosis, which led to multiple uncontrolled cell growth and death, also known as cancer. Subject 104 is in a constant state of cellular growth and death until he went crazy and was frozen at the St. Henry's Cryogenic Research Center for Extraordinary Being. \n\nAnother classical example of such phenomenon is the sickle cell anemia and malaria... \n\n**bell ring** \n\nAlright remember to bring the number 2 pencil tomorrow. Push the chairs in before you leave, and no telekinesis Nate, it's a chair not an anvil!", "I never had a fear of the dark until I was enveloped by it. Until I could steal the light away from someone's eyes with just a passing glance. Before I changed, I was a simple software engineer in his twenties, but that's not important. What's important is that I have lost most control over my so called \"powers\". I used to rule the shadows, now I am their slave. When it's the middle of the day, and the world goes dark, I cower in fear of my creations. I never wanted any of this. I've been alone in this world, or at least this area for many years now, and I've accepted that. But what I have not accepted is the darkness that continues to torment me. I use what little influence I have left to keep them at bay from the rest of the world, assuming of course anybody is still out there. Eventually my fears will overcome me and the shadows will run free, darkness will swallow what's rest of life. \n\nGoodbye anyone if you still exist, I tried", "Day in, day out, it's all the same anymore. These shackles I put myself in, this pitiful excuse of a hideaway, and the fear of myself remain the same everyday. I could have prevented it all, I could have stopped, but I didn't try to prevent it, and I didn't try to stop it.\n\nI remember the first day I discovered my powers, I can still remember how giddy I was that I was like the superheroes I read about when I was younger. I was basically Superman! In my youth I didn't dare tell a soul for fear of being shunned, because people never accept anomalies into their lives. \n\nI remember when in high school, I became a star player and got scholarships at some of the greatest colleges in the nation. Nobody could get past me, nobody had a chance. As it was high school, many people gave me nicknames. The Train, Bullet, Alimony(because it's hard for you to get back up after I hit you), among many other names. I always enjoyed it and high school was probably the greatest time of my life. \n\nCollege was a bit more challenging but nonetheless, I was a star player even then. I got national attention, everybody called me The 'Dozer. I felt like the king of the world! It all went downhill after I went home for Christmas break of my freshman year though.\n\nI was just like any other College student, I looked forward to going home and seeing my family again. We talked and we laughed, then my father suggested going out to eat. Since we almost never got to do this I gladly agreed and we went off. At the restaurant we were eating and chatting amongst ourselves. \n\nEverything was great but then somebody screamed, \"Help her! She's choking!\"\n\nEverybody scrambled up but I was already there, I asked the woman screaming, presumably her mother, to step back so I could do the Heimlich maneuver on her. I did it once, she was still choking. I did it again, a bit harder, she was still choking. I knew if I didn't dislodge whatever was in her throat next she'd be in serious trouble. So the third time I did it, I did it harder than normal and let my strength get the better of me. \n\n*Crack*\n\nI looked down and what I saw horrified me. I tore this woman in half. The bottom of her body slumped to the floor and her top half went limp in my arms. Her mother screamed, everybody screamed, I screamed. Two men rushed in to tackle me but I pushed them away, sending them flying into the restaurant.\n\n*smack* *smack*\n\nPeople started screaming even more. One of the men who tried tackling me split his head open on the floor. I had to get out, I had to run away from this, I had to get away from the pain I caused. I turned around and mouthed to my parents goodbye, and up I went, flying away into the night sky.\n\nI don't know how long I flew for, all I know is that I had to go somewhere nobody would be able to look for me. I stopped along the way and stole some shackles from a black smith and went back on my way. I finally landed in this forest I knew nobody would be able to find me at and built this sorry excuse for a shelter.\n\nIt's been three years since the incident. I can still hear the people screaming. I can still her the woman's body snapping in half and slumping to the floor. I can still remember the blood. Everyday I remember it. I used to cry and go in the fetal position the first few times I remembered the incident, now I shake it off and go back to sleep, to try and ignore it.\n\nI remember when I thought these powers were a blessing. I remember when I wanted to be a hero, I remember when I planned to do great things. Now all I do is wait in this forest where the rain never stops, and wait for Death take me away from this Hell I created for myself and into the one I am surely going to." ]

[ 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 5, 5, 9, 10 ]

[ "1418958130", "1418973961", "1418975267", "1419007046", "1418956895", "1418959877", "1418966286", "1418953256", "1418971522", "1418953138", "1418954035" ]

[ "\"Ya see Jesus, it's simple. When your mother, the Virgin Mary, gave birth to you, it was a surprise! Who woulda guessed it! Look at you now, you're a big deal! People are in love with you! I don't blame them! You and me aren't that different you know. Those kids over there,\" Frosty said pointing at his pals across the street, \"put this hat onto me and I came to life! It's a miracle, a Christmas miracle! Now I've seen the Passion and it's not your best work, as an actor that is. I'm not here to judge, really I'm not, but look at that piece and look at my career! Frosty the Snowman was, and is to this day, a classic! Kids love me. That's your problem. You need to target the children. That market is a gold mine! Kids and their parents! That's at least 2 people. Ahh pal, I feel like we are just going to get closer as time goes on.\"\n\nThe kids, now grown up, who put that magical hat on him, looked on in shame.\n\n\"I told you we should of never shown him that movie.\"\n\n\"Yea I suppose you were right. We should of had kids, maybe then he would still be as fun as he use to be.\"\n\n\"Well hes been talking to Old Miss Jerry's baby Jesus for 20 minutes now and showing no signs of stoppng. Oh and look at that, he knocked over a Wise Man. Come on let's round him up and send him back to the North Pole, I think he melted too much.\"", "\"Hey Frosty.\"\n\n\"Happy birthday, Jesus!\"\n\n\"Yeah, thanks. Listen, I know you tend to be pretty busy this time of year...\"\n\n\"No kiddin'! Seems like every year more and more kiddies want to laugh and play with me.\"\n\n\"Yeah, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I'm really happy for your success. You're a staple of the season. It's just.... don't you think you might be... you know... stealing my thunder?\"\n\n\"Gosh no! I'm real sorry if you feel that way Jesus. I never thought that I was taking attention away from you. In fact, I always thought that our stories were pretty similar.\"\n\n\"I fail to see how the salvation of all mankind is pretty similar to playing in the snow with a bunch of school-children.\"\n\n\"Well, the way I see is it goes like this:\n\nI come to life thanks to my magic hat, a sort of virgin birth if you don't mind my sayin' so. I start to dance around and gain a following, like you did when you started preaching. As I continue to dance through town the policeman hollers at me to stop, like the Romans and the Pharisees tried to get you to stop. That didn't work though. The only thing that slows me down is when the sun gets too hot and I start to melt, which I think is symbolic of your trial, crucifixion, and death. Before I melt all the way though, Santa comes to take me to the North Pole so I can come back and play with my friends next winter. That last bit I think refers to your resurrection, ascension, and the promise of your second coming.\n\nThat's how I see it, but please forgive me if I'm just reading into things too deeply.\"\n\n\"No... I guess I see your point. I'm just not sure if it's that effective to have a winter-themed Easter-parable being told around Christmas.\"\n\n\"Don't worry too much about it. Let's go sledding.\"\n\n\"Okay. Let's go.\"" ]

[ 2, 3 ]

[ "1418980536", "1418969441" ]

[ "\"he gutted the dog and strangled the girl with the animals intestines. the father cracked... That bombs gonna go off in less than five minutes.\"\n\nSuddenly there he was Spoondater. \"guys can I help? Need to know any spoons birthday or the date of important spoon related news?\"\n\nJust then the detective realised, \"no we don't now fuck off spoonraper.\"", "The *\"or die\"* was being told by the gun in the huge mugger's hand.\n\nRaymond was terrified. He was in a dark alley, with a gun pointed at his head, and was slowly taking out his wallet. Through the haze of fear, he was fervently wishing he would come out of this alive. Luckily, he didn't see his mugger's face and could honestly bargain if it came to that.\n\n\"Stop, in the name of Mister Immortal!\" Said a scrawny man in a blue spandex outfit.\n\n\"Damn it, one of the supers! What's your power? Super-strength? Super-speed? Telekinesis?\" Asked the mugger.\n\n\"Immortality, of course. That's why I'm called Mister Immortal!\"\n\nThe mugger shot him in the kneecap, took the wallet, and walked away. Mister Immortal was still screaming." ]

[ 2, 6 ]

[ "1418998360", "1418999156" ]

[ "“Friedrich!” My “father” shouted in a thick German accent. “What have I told you about these video games?”\n\n“I told you dad!” I retorted. “I want to be a regular guy. Go to work. Go home. Play some Call of Duty. Maybe one day raise a family. And I told you I go by Freddy now.”\n\n“No. Unacceptable.” He said curtly. “I made you with genius levels of intelligence. I made with a body composition ideal of peak levels of physical condition. I made you immune to ninety percent of the world’s plagues. And this is how you reward my craftsmanship? You want to be normal?”\n\n“Yes!” I desperately cried. “Do you know how it feels to be expected only to take breaks from my research to win Olympic gold medals? No man should be put under that pressure. It’s not fair.”\n\n“Son,” my dad said with surprising tenderness. “You have a responsibility. You have the ability to do so much. If you saw a man being mugged and you are able to stop him, you have a responsibility to do so. It is like what the arachnid guy says. ‘with great power comes great responsibility.’”\n\n“I didn't ask for that responsibility.” I yelled.\n\n“Nobody does!” My father screamed. “And nobody would! But we are all created with special talents we must share with the world.”\n\n“So you created me.” I spoke darkly. “I’m your excuse for never using your so-called ‘great mind’ to fix the world. You can’t do it personally so you made me.”\n\n“Get out.” My father said through gritted teeth. I paused for a moment. “GET OUT!”\n\nI walked out the door with fists clenched and hot tears running down my face. I ran. I ran for hours away from the cursed man and his wretched lab. When I finally stopped, I was more alone than I ever knew possible. ", "The musky aroma of his own perspiration filled his navel cavity, while scientist Kyle Han worked on the latest, and possibly greatest, project of his career.\n\n\"You are the fruit of my labors\" he remarked to the perfectly aesthetic body that lay before him on a the chrome table top.\n\nThe life-form, although resembling a human, was significantly much more than your average earth dweller. Its eyes grazed every detail of the room with the curiosity of a child, soaking in every sub-atomic detail of its surrounding. \n\n\"I....am the fruit, of your labors?\" the being repeated questionably\n\n\"Yes. Yes you are. Now, come to your feet, lets see if you can stand.\" the scientist grabbed his creations hand in an attempt to pull it to its feet. But, quicker than he could respond, he watched as his own arm was torn from the socket and hit the floor with a meaty thud that splashed red spots onto the clean contour of his lab shoes. \n\nHe had forgotten. Forgotten that his creation possessed the combined strength of 20 humans put together. Kyle Han fell to the floor screaming with the ferocity of a woman giving birth. He sat, in shock, in a pool of his own blood, staring into the indifferent eyes of his creation, whom made no attempt to help him. \n\nThe being stood. Kyle watched his creation as it came to his feet and walked toward the lab coats hanging on the wall behind them, and covered itself. The being made its way to the exit door of the lab, walking with a pace that portrayed no rush, but a certain guidance that meant it had plans. Kyle was in no position to chase after the being, as he was bleeding out on the floor. He knew this was probably the last time he would see his creation. It was up to the world to teach the being now, and if Kyle knew anything about the world, it was that it was full of greed, corruption, and a powerful will to survive. Kyle reached for the nearest piece of paper and scribbled the fumbled letters to write,\n\n\"My legacy, is a new beginning for all....-K. Han\"\n" ]

[ 1, 1 ]

[ "1419018278", "1419019852" ]

[ "The thing I hate the most about being able to see the future is that people won't stop asking me for prophecies. Literally. I've had this job for about six thousand years and know nothing about poetry. But It's my duty to fufill their requests. In fact, it's against some kind of cosmic rule to help people change their future. So, these prophecies have to be vague enough where no one can figure them out, and for some reason they have to rhyme and sound awesome. Ugh.\n\nThe thing I like the best (okay, second best after the kind of April Fool's Day pranks you can pull on people) is seeing ransom people's futures. There's something entrancing about knowing something no one else knows, and not having to do anything about it.\n\nWell, that was true until this guy had asked me to write a prophecy for him. He was getting promoted. I was sitting in a cafe in downtown Paris, brainstorming. Father up the tree/that's where you'll be. \n\nI saw this little kid run past. Out of sheer curiosity, I took a glance into his future. \n\nMillions dead, their bodies just lying in the streets.\n\nCities flattened, all by a single blast.\n\nArmies marching, and marching, and marching, and marching and marching and marchingandmarchingandmatchingandmarching, across the entire world. \n\nI was taken back by this vision. It was worse then the one I'd seen for that Greek prince. \n\nBut I have another ability, too. This one I hardly ever use, especially since I only found out about it about fifty years ago, and it's totally useless. I can see when people are going to become who they are going to become. And I look at this, for this kid. Five minutes. Not even. Four minutes and thirty seconds. Twenty. Ten. I watch as the kid runs across the street. \n\nThen, suddenly, another person materializes in front of him. Wearing clothes that won't be in style for another hundred years. Carrying a gun that won't be invented for another fifty. \n\nHe pulls it up, turns off the safety, fires. But as he's firing, a car swerves into him. The time traveler falls over, misses his mark.\n\nI get up. I have to. I run to the kid. I have to. I pull out my phone. I have to. I dial three numbers. I have to.", " The future is never set in stone. In fact there are normally so many different possibilities that it hurts for Clairvoyants to see them all. But with practice, Clairvoyants can pinpoint a turning point; a crossroad that decides between two most drastic outcomes. \n\n As you left the World Congress building, you realized that you do have a lot of spare mana stored up, what with missions getting few and far in between. With that, you decided to focus your powers on an unseemly child who passed by, looking afraid and lost. \n\n And the visions shocked you. Before your Eye, flashes the scene of the very building behind you bursting into flames while the child watched afar, and yet there was another possibility- the child walking away with his parents, alive and well. The visions then skipped into the future- visions of a hellscape, a man sitting upon his golden throne, slaves at his feet and a gaudy crown upon his head. Yet a tamer possibility existed- a future not unlike the present, depicting a shy florist working in the suburbs. You had always believed that nature triumphed nurture, but perhaps, you thought, the loss of his parents was enough to tip this boy over. \n\nYou rushed into building with the child, knowing you had only five minutes to get him and his parents out. You proceed to the information counter, get them to make an announcement and all that. 3 minutes left. The parents finally arrive. You paid them no heed, looking down at your watch and realizing there's little over a minute remained. Great. How would you persuade them to leave? \n\nBefore you could think up a coherent plan, the child dashed out of the building frantically. Oh well, at least he's helped you get the last stage settled. You rushed out together with the boy's parents, who catched up with the boy and scooped him up. \n\n\"Oh kids these days, you know how they are,\" laughed the mother. \n\n\"Yeah I-\"\n\nThe mother turned around, she was smiling but her eyes were empty. \n\n\"Thank you so much\" she said, but her words sent a shiver down your spine. \n\nThey left and the building behind you burst into flames. There was screaming and blaring sirens and falling debris, but you could only stand there, shocked and rooted to the ground. You had opened your Eye just as they left, and the future was set in stone. The future would be hell. ", "\"I want the yellow one!\" the kid squealed. John looked at the mother and child ahead of him on the escalator. The kid was hopping from foot to foot, pointing at an advert wrapped along the balconies of the shopping mall that depicted the latest in a line of animated toys.\n\n\"What do we say?\" the boys mother admonished. Her tone made John smile, reminding him of his own mother, as images flashed through his mind showing him how his mother would die.\n\nHe had seen her death since he was a young boy. It was peaceful, tranquil. Knowing things ahead of time wasn't always a curse. He had made sure she was at her favourite park, watching the swans eat bread. Would make sure. Would. Even after thirty years the tenses still confused him.\n\nThe boy hung his head and mumbled an \"I would like\" to his mother. She reached down to peck him on the cheek, but the boy dodged away to avoid the display of affection, brushing against John as he did so.\n\nThe world crashed away. This was not peaceful. Sights wrapped in sounds twisted in feelings of agony exploded within John's mind as memories of things to be clawed their way into his skull.\n\nThe vendor. Handing over a small toy. The boy beaming at his mother. The man. Ski mask. Gun. Glistening, silver, deadly, outstretched. Shouts. The boy looked down the barrel, honest. Mother, wrapping her body around his own, jerking, shuddering, growing cold. So cold. John wept but the boy did not. Time. Time gnawed at the wound. The boy became a man. The man became a monster.\n\nCrime meant death. Death became policy. Policy became party, and soon the boy cradling his yellow toy stood on a parapet, holding a nation.\n\nThe present returned, a cold trickle of sweat the only visible sign of the years, decades, of hell John had endured. He saw the mother clutch her childs hand. Love.\n\nReaching into his Christmas shopping he pulled out a small box. The little figure, golden yellow arms waving through the plastic wrapping, meant for his own son. It was the smallest acts that held the greatest impacts. A snowball became an avalanche.\n\n\"Excuse me.\" The woman turned to stare at the man behind her, instinctively clutching her child closer. John smiled, holding up the toy. \"I forgot my son likes the red one. Please, take it, as an early present.\"\n\nThe boys eyes shone with anticipation as he looked between the man, his mother and the outstretched toy. A moment of hesitation crossed her mind, before she nodded. The boy snatched the package with a squeal of delight.\n\n\"What do we say Daniel?\"\n\n\"Thank you mister!\"" ]

[ 1, 2, 4 ]

[ "1419070097", "1419050516", "1419051009" ]

[ "Mariah scanned the landscape through the scope of her hunting rifle. The street was deserted and utterly still, bar the occasional wandering leaf that skittered under the abandoned cars and past the shattered shop windows that lined the street. A blanket of fog covered everything more than a dozen metres away, giving the looming silhouettes of the buildings a sinister effect.\n\nShe frowned. There had definitely been a voice calling out a moment ago, but the fog everywhere made it impossible to see where it might have come from. She decided to risk revealing her position by calling back.\n\n'Hello?' she shouted into the mist. 'Is there someone there?'\n\n'Yes!' came the reply. A woman's voice. Mariah relaxed, but only by a fraction. This person might not be friendly. Months of surviving alone had increased her natural pessimism to the extent where she could trust no-one.\n\n'Come here slowly with your hands where I can see them!' she shouted back. A moment later, a young woman came out of the mist, hands raised to shoulder level. She couldn't have been older than twenty years old. Her clothes were a pair of mud-spattered boots, old jeans, a thick black jacket over a red T-shirt, and a small bag slung over her shoulder.\n\nMariah kept her rifle aimed at the other woman as she approached, stopping a few metres away. They stared at each other for a long moment, then Mariah shouldered the rifle. This person was not a threat, she knew.\n\n'I'm Alannah,' she said, tentatively lowering her hands. 'And I think we might be the last two people on Earth.'\n\n'And why's that?' said Mariah brusquely, keeping an eye out for any danger around them. She began to walk back down the street, gesturing for the other woman to follow.\n\n'Well, everyone else just disappeared,' replied Alannah. 'Except us. I've driven halfway across the country to get here because my father lived in the suburbs of this city. And the whole way here, I didn't see one other person. Just deserted towns and highways. You're the first person I've seen in a month.'\n\n'So what do you think that means?' said Mariah, turning a corner and shielding her eyes against the last rays of the setting sun. She was only half-listening to the conversation.\n\n'Well, we're the whole of the human race now,' Alannah replied. 'We have to preserve the knowledge of mankind, that sort of thing.'\n\n'Yeah, I'm not really bothered with preserving something no-one's going to need again,' said Mariah, stepping over a large pile of rubble where a gas mains had exploded. The explosion had taken out a large chunk of a nearby building.\n\n'What about when people come back?'\n\n'Listen, no-one's *going* to come back,' said Mariah. 'Not unless we somehow start repopulating the planet ourselves, and since neither of us have man parts, that's not going to happen any time soon either!'\n\n'We'll just have to hope, then,' said Alannah.\n\n'I lost all hope a long time ago,' said Mariah. 'If you keep holding onto the idea that there'll be people around again sometime in the future, you're going to die. This world is no place for someone who holds onto the past. They're gone. Get over it and start thinking about how to defend yourself.'\n\nThe other woman seemed shocked by her outburst. 'Sorry,' she said after a moment. 'I lost friends and family too, and I *do* miss them. But you need to be able to lock those feelings in a chest and throw away the key. It's the only way you'll survive your own thoughts.'\n\nAlannah looked like she was about to say something, but she kept her mouth shut and nodded grimly. Mariah smiled a small smile as she turned and reached under a nearby car for the second rifle she kept there for emergencies. She unwrapped it from its waterproof cover and handed it to the other woman.\n\n'It's good to have someone else around, I guess,' she said with a wry grin. 'With two of us, we might just get through this.'\n\nThe two women stood back to back as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, throwing the city into darkness. Then the howls began.", "\"This probably borders on the realm of sanity and pure insanity.\" I looked at Laura as she shakily locked with my eyes. I had a trembling feeling deep inside my gut, this was one of those times I have the utmost reluctant confidence in it. That is unbelievably confusing. Fuck.\n\nOh shit, Let me explain! You know what I'm talking about. There's no one collective conclusion to which I can base it on, but I guess it's the sum of all the experiences you've had to this point. It's no authoritative obligation by any means. You have it though, and somehow the only reason you realize you have it is retrospectively when you realize you should have went with it.\n\n\"I haven't told anyone about this since, well... it happened.\" Laura said. I have every reason to not trust her. I woke up, I walked, I found her. That's it. I haven't had any other reason to hope anything else is here, We're together out of obligation.\n\nLaura was tall and curvaceous. She had long brown hair, with bangs. Her tattoos blended into an array of color I had no idea of which what it meant, but it was still, beautiful. Her eyes, brown... today. They changed colors from time to time, and I never noticed since I was to distracted by the way she looked at me.\n\nI can be a Lesbian now... I guess. I mean, it makes sense. I never knew what was happening to me, but I just knew there had to be more then this.\n\n\"I'm...\" Laura stuttered.\n\nFucking spit it out. Christ.\n\n\"Trans...gender. Transgender.\"\n\nWhat? \n\n\"I haven't said anything since we met, because I haven't been with anyone since my wife left me. I never loved again. I'm this now. It's me.\"\n\nAll I could do was stare. How did this change anything?\n\n\"The things is...I. Um. Well I still have a penis.\"\n\nThis changes things.\n", "\"Well no one will call us gay now.\"", "She turned around, looked at her only companion and said the two words that were to prove to be humanity's salvation:\n\"Sperm banks\".\nMany incests and a few hundred years later, humanity was back to fucking up the planet.\nThe End.", "\"Don't shoot!\" He calls out from behind the car. I had put a bullet through his windshield with my hunting rifle to let him know I meant business. It had been months since I'd seen a robber, but I was not going to lose another generator to carelessness.\n\n\"I'm going to come out now. I've left all of my weapons in the car, and I'm going to come out slowly.\" He slowly rises with his hands raised above his head. I put another bullet through the passenger window. He doesn't even flinch. He finishes standing up, and slowly walks over to me.\n\nI put another bullet in the ground. I was not getting robbed again. I could no longer see properly out of my left eye because of bandits. He still doesn't flinch. He just keeps walking towards me with his hands up until my gun is touching his forehead.\n\n\"If you're not going to trust me you might as well end this right now, because I think we're the last ones. I haven't seen another soul in two years. Even if they exist we're not going to find them.\" I consider doing it. I consider giving that trigger a squeeze. How do I know this guy isn't going to make himself the last man on earth when I go to bed?\n\nThen again, if he does, I think he will have suffered the worse fate. I lower my rifle, open the chamber, drop the mag, and flip the safety on.\n\n\"Good.\" He says. \"Because I've also got the world's last xbox in my car, and there are a whole lot of co-op games I've stockpiled.\"" ]

[ 2, 4, 7, 11, 16 ]

[ "1419108003", "1419111729", "1419113198", "1419106712", "1419100370" ]

[ "I glanced back, then looked again. She really was gorgeous. I always had a thing for short-haired girls, and hers was practically a buzzcut, just a few locks at the back left longer. It set off her clear eyes and fine jawline. From the jawline my eye naturally travelled downwards, and the next thing I saw was a blue lanyard. I had one too - it came with my work ID badge. If I was lucky I should be able to read the name.\n\n*Emma Watson*? Surely it couldn't be. What would Emma Watson be doing working for a second-rate telecoms company? But then, she did look roughly right. Maybe, just maybe...\n\n\"What name?\" the barista asked.\n\n\"Emma.\"\n\nHe looked hard at her, then down to her badge. Her expression got colder as he stared. In the end she just put the money on the counter and sat down. I ordered my mocha and sat next to her.\n\n\"You must get tired of that, I should think. I'm Dan, by the way.\"\n\n\"You have *no* idea. I hate giving my name in here. The worst of it is, if I say something else they assume I'm really her giving a false name. At least this way there's an element of doubt.\"\n\n\"Mm. If I were you I'd probably start playing with it. Call myself Nicki or Lucy. You could get a bit of amusement out of it.\" It didn't seem to amuse her much. Oh well...\n\n\"Hermione!\" the girl called. With a face like thunder, she went up to collect the cup.\n\n\"Well, we know what *his* mind was on!\" I said. She didn't seem amused - perhaps she could imagine the picture in his mind.\n\n\"There must be things you can do, aren't there? Change your looks, or something.\"\n\n\"I tried that. I got a pixie cut when she was Hermione. Then she got one too and I was no better off. That's why I have this. If she gets it shaved I'll have to buy a wig.\"\n\n\"You'll get your badge tangled up!\"\n\nShe looked down, and pulled it off in annoyance. I removed mine too, pulling my mullet out of the loop.\n\n\"No, seriously, it does get better. When she gets older people will at least stop leching at you. It is hard, I know.\"\n\n\"You know? You *can't* know what it's like. To be constantly called by the right name for the wrong reason, and never to be able to correct people... it drives you mad. I did think of a deed-poll, but I'm damned if I change my name because of people's stupidity.\"\n\nShe would have said more, but the counter-girl called across, \"Umm... *Hawkeye*?\" I went over, grinning at her. Over at our table Emma's mouth fell open as she read my name-badge.", "\"Omigod, Emma Watson! You're Emma Watson!\" I can hardly believe my eyes. My words slingshot out of my mouth like an excited school girl. My energy must have been contagious, because without missing a beat, she fires back. \"Yes! I am! 'Have been my whole life! *Giggles* She's even more beautiful in real life. Short, but not too short. Petite, but not too petite. Beautiful, but in that natural, girl next door way. A nervous pause interrupts my gazing.\n\nPre-programmed by those before me, I rip my phone from my pocket. \"Um, can I take a pic with you?\" Her eyes light up devilishly and she quickly glances around. \"No,\" she whispers. \"...but I think I'd follow you to your flat.\" At least that's what the barista told me she said, through his hysterical laughter. You see, I was never good at deciphering an English accent, and when she asked to see my flat -- I thought she said, 'No, because I think you're too FAT.\" I was embarrassed, and defensively shouted, \"WOW, OKAY. BYE THEN!\" And fled to the bathroom. When I returned, the barista interrogated me, asking why I just refused taking Emma Watson to my apartment. To this day, the smell of caramel macchiato makes me sick to my stomach.\n\n\n\n\n\n", "\"Oh, sorry,\" a pretty, pale hand raised itself in apology.\n\n\"Hey, it's no problem,\" I shrugged, and began a reassuring smil-\n\nOh shit. I know that face.\n\nIt's Emma Watson.\n\n\"Welp,\" I wave as she exits the coffee shop, \"Have a nice day!\"\n\n*Man, wouldn't it have been creepy if I had started fanboying?* I turn back and continue to wait." ]

[ 3, 4, 5 ]

[ "1419119964", "1419113320", "1419112806" ]

[ "Willy sat alone, sipping two cups of coffee simultaneously, burning his tongue and throat as each sip went down, the taste closer to potatoes than coffee. He stared at the empty booth across from him, filling it with all his invisible friends, and then realized he didn't have any invisible friends.\n\nWilly sighed.\n\nThe waitress walked up to him, smacking her lips together with every chew she took from her piece of gum. \"Hey–*smack smack*–how's the coffee there? *Smack smack* Need anything else?\"\n\nWilly looked up at her, tried to stare into her eyes, shuddered, then looked away. \"The coffee tastes like old potatoes.\" \n\n\"Old what?\"\n\n\"Potatoes. Old potatoes.\"\n\n\"How does coffee taste like–*smack smack*–old potatoes?\"\n\nWilly shrugged. \"I don't know. It just does.\" \n\n\"I had–*smack smack*–potatoes once. They were–\"\n\n\"Shut your moot,\" Willy interrupted, raising his left hand in the air as if to swat an annoying, rather large fly. \"Get me the check.\" \n\nThe waitress gasped, her face contorting into an incredulous rage. Willy guessed that was the first time some middle-aged man out of high school had ever told her to shut her goddamn moot. She opened her mouth to try and talk, but only managed to mouth a wordless reply, before stomping away, her footsteps in sync to her gum-chewing-fueled-rage. *Smack. Stomp. Smack. Stomp.*\n\nWhen she came back, she slammed the check on the table, and said, \"What's the hurry anyway bub?\"\n\n\"My name's Willy,\" he said, staring up into those beautiful blue eyes, like the depths of the deepest ocean. They were soulless eyes, more or less. \"I have to get to my mother's funeral. I'm already late.\" \n\n*Smack. Smack. Smack.* \"She dead or sumthin'?\"\n\nWilly could only stare at her. \"Something like that.\" He left her half of his gum as a tip. \n\nThe coffin was bigger than he'd expected–brown and unhealthily clean looking, Willy could make out all the craters and blackheads that his teenage years had left behind on his face. He looked around the funeral home, everything black on black. He looked down at himself, and only now realized it probably wasn' t the best idea to wear a grey and white business suit here. \n\nBefore he could get away, Uncle Leo was putting a meaty old man hand on Willy's shoulder, rocking him back and forth. Willy stood as rigid as a metal rod, smelling like an old rug that had had one too many shoes wiped off on it. \n\n\"Oh Junior. It's a tragedy. It really is,\" Uncle Leo, at that moment, burst into tears, using Willy's shoulder as a sobbing rag. Willy took a few steps away, not wanting to ruin the only suit he owned. \n\n\"Yeah. Sure is. And it's Willy, by the way.\"\n\nWhen Uncle Leo's crying fit was over, he again came as close to Willy as he could without actually molesting him. He put his hand on Willy's. Willy shuddered. \"How you holding up, Junior?\"\n\n\"How did she die again?\" Willy asked. He had almost read the obituary in the paper, but his coffee timer had gone off, and he had never quite gotten around to it after that. \n\n\"She, uh...well, I think she sort of just collapsed. Old age I suppose.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" was all Willy said.\n\n\"Yeah. They found a bunch of cocaine and well...uh...Jack Daniels in her system as well, but your mother was doing that for *years*, so I doubt that had anything to do with it.\"\n\nWilly shook his head. \"Of course it didn't.\"\n\nUncle Leo's hand soon moved away from Willy's, and was coasting, drifting away like a lost sailboat. Willy was frozen. He couldn't move, couldn't feel any part of his body. He let out a little squeak as he had when he was a kid. Uncle Leo's hand had, once again, found Willy's willy. \n\nWilly let out another squeak, finally feeling his legs again, and took off sprinting towards the food buffet. He had suddenly grown very hungry for some chicken. Uncle Leo, Willy thought, was also craving some cock. \n\nThe church was empty now. The sea of black was gone, the crying and the incense and the food and Uncle Leo's hand had disappeared. It was only Willy now, listening to the air whisp through the church. He wondered if it was the whisperings of God come before him, then realized God probably didn't have time for someone like Willy. \n\nHe was facing his mother's coffin, and decided to finally say his farewells, tell her how much he cared about her.\n\n\"I waited for you. At the diner we'd always meet at. I waited there. Forgot you were dead.\" Willy looked around the empty church, but no reply came. \n\n\"I fucking hate you,\" he said to his mother's coffin. He looked around, wincing, expecting something to come crashing down on his head or lash him in the back for what he'd said, but nothing came. Willy smiled. \"I FUCKING HATE YOU!\" His echoes rang across the church, and Willy knew those were the words of God.\n\n\"I hate you and your fucking drugs and booze! I fucking hate how you let Uncle Leo babysit even after...after...\" Willy stopped to wipe the tears from his face. \"I FUCKING HATE YOUR HUSBAND! I FUCKING HATE YOUR SECOND HUSBAND! I FUCKING HATE YOUR FAT, UGLY, BITCH FACE! AND I'M BETTER OFF WITHOUT YOU, MOM! I! HATE! YOU!\" \n\nHe collapsed onto the floor then, unable to keep himself upright as the shudders and the memories hit him like a tidal wave. \n\n\"Son,\" a voice said.\n\nWilly jumped up, turning towards the voice. It was his mother. His mother had heard him and had come back from the grave and now he would have to face–\n\n\"Oh, hello Father Al,\" Willy said, staring directly into the terrified face of the priest. \n\nThere was silence for a few minutes, and all the priest did was stare, dumbfounded, at Willy. He guessed Father Al hadn't heard so many horrible things before in his entire life. \n\nWilly scratched his head, looked down at the floor. \"How much of that did you hear?\"\n\nFather Al cleared his throat. \"Enough of it.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\n\"But that isn't your mother's coffin,\" Father Al said. \n\nWilly looked up at him, back at the coffin, back at the priest, then down at his shoes. \"Fuck,\" he said, then blushed. \"Oh shit–I mean...uh, sorry.\"\n\n\"They had, uhm, taken your mother's a few hours ago. That's Mrs. Rubarb. She was head of the local charity organization. Great lady. Nobody ever shouted at her. Except you of course.\"\n\nWilly looked up at the priest. \"Aren't you supposed to make me feel, like, better about myself?\"\n\nFather Al shrugged. \"Not really. You're gonna have to do that on your own. The question is, what will you do now?\"\n\nWilly stared at Mrs. Rubarb's coffin, then at the exit. He smiled, and walked past the pews, past the priest, and out of the doors. He was going to do something great, going to get his life on track and maybe work out and maybe write that play he had always wanted to. Yes, he was a new man with new dreams and new ambitions. \n\nHe decided he'd wait til the end of the week to do all that, at the latest. For now, Willy simply went home, and watched TV. \n ", "Chapter 1. Tell a dramatic story through humour.\n\nA light. One more. A handful more. A hundred more vibrating white lights cascading down a celestial waterfall lost one to join another above the multitude zaps below. \n\n“Do you think Wisps are stars?”\n\nThe other Wisp flew an arc into the direction of the deepest part of space, and said, “We're more like spaceships, flying around.” Its sparkling dust levitated and followed around it. The landslide of white lights washed into another spacetime curve, a sideways blasting into and out of visibility. These two followed behind, pushing into the quantum wormhole they navigated.\n\n\"Hey look, it's Jebus. Guardian of the Galaxy. King of Kings. Ya know, the savior? The messiah? God?\" a Wisp said.\nCrack! A bolt of lightning touched corners through the room. This room happened to be a manger. A baby lay in the center of the hay. He was totally silent in the night.\n\nA candlelight threatened to dim the Wisps who had materialized on the bolt of lightning into the hay-filled compartment. “It doeasn't look like Jebus.”\n\n“That can't be God. Hey, where is God, anyway?” a third Wisp chimed.\n\nOn Planet Sprok©, everything is a Wisp. Televisions are Wisps. That's a good thing, because television and spirits do NOT mix. The ground is Wisps; when there is ground, which there isn't most of the time. Wisps float. They prefer sliding. Also, televisions are reality to Wisps. \n\n\"God transitioned to the netherworld. He's on Earth, now. I heard he's in a manger, somewhere. Probably not even crying about it.\"\n\nThe Wisps rotated. One look looked at another. \"Where and when are we?\" the Wisps asked.\n\n“Oh my God.”\n \n“That's God.”\n\n\"We're witnessing the birth of Jebus!”\n\nThe Wisps were “watching” the solar system through their “televisions” on Planet Sprok©. On Planet Sprok©, however, televisions WERE Wisps. They were connected to the production, filming, cast and crew of the movie of the real birth of Jebus at that very moment. You can see why Earth wouldn't need Wisp television technology for at least another two thousand years. But you might not understand how you're so fortunate that in the meantime, you're invited to watch Planet Sprok©: the only Wisp television show in the solar system WITHOUT God. Broadcasting from the Dark Tavern on Planet Sprok©. Just don't get sucked into a Wisp television.\n\n[Planet Sprok©](http://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2pwskp/wp_humans_are_originally_from_mars_but_after/cn106f7)\n\n", "Welcome boys and girls, I have another exciting story for you today, what do you mean you don't know me? I am Navilus Nilok, teller of tales and chronicler of all things, of course you have heard of me... erm, anyway, I have a bit of a funny story for you today. I saw this happen one day, not that long ago, and it has already garnered some interest among the other scholars. Except Liam. Liam hates everything. ...anyway on to the story.\n\nIt was a day quite like this, but with some light, you know being day and all. He had just set out from his village, looking to strike a fortune into the world, or would that be strike a fortune in the world? Whatever, I still need to do some editing. Anyway, it starts out as your typical evil threatens world, boy fights evil, boy becomes woman, boy meets girl, all of that good stuff. Well, except for the boy meets girl bit, that already happened.\n\nHe sets out, blue eyes glinting in the noon sun, cloak trailing behind him as majestically as a rhinoceros dancing ballet, they're surprisingly good at that, going out to meet his destiny. It was so nice to find someone who would actually meet fate head on instead of spending forever whining about it. \"But I don't want to save the world!\" Shut up, yes you do. Everyone wants to be a hero, except for heroes.\n\nHis horse had an amber color to it, like the sun had set fire to a block of sap, a majestic steed. His sword shone with a thousand blazing fires, putting to shame even the most experienced of knights. It almost seemed to defile the sword when he had to spit the first few goblins on it, but that is just the way of an adventurer.\n\nOne of Retghual's evil knights was blocking the path to his castle, a vile man whose blackness of heart was matched only by that of his master, or an angsty, depressed teenager. He knew it was no easy task to stop evil from overcoming the land, but he also knew that it was only him that could do it. He had been ordained, and now the world shall once more know the sweet touch of the light. Righteous of heart he struck down the evil man, and cleared the path for people to know happiness again. Now why had he been chosen for this? It was because he was the only one who knew happiness at the time, having already met the love of his life back in the village.\n\nSoon enough he came to Retghual's castle, an ominous place from which decrees banning merrymaking and laughter and other, ahem, acts. That last was much more recent. That had to be bred out. Literally. So, he charged down the bridge, broke through the portcullis, killed the garrison, killed the castle guards, ignored the servants, found a really nice painting of some water lilies, and attacked the dark lord himself. Being no match for hero Retghual fled at great speed, and he naturally chased. At the end of his horse's great run, he managed to catch up to Retghual, right back where he had started.\n\nHis only love lay dead at Reghual's feet, with a cry of rage he launched forward and killed the dark one, freeing the land, forget about the fact that there are still evil armies around. Now why had this happened? It was because to restore happiness to many, the greatest happiness had to be sacrificed, true love. His was even greater than that between Buttercup and Wesley, it was the purest and greatest happiness that the world had ever seen.\n\nWell that's the story, although I suppose that it wasn't all that funny now that I think about it. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. What do you mean what happened to our hero? Well... he died. Killed himself really. Nasty business that. Good last words though. Fine, fine, I'll tell them to you.\n\n*You said that we would be together always and forever, and I said that I would love you for forever and a day. But now the sun is setting and the day over, but forever's only just begun.*\n\nTouching, ain't it?", "A young woman, maybe in her mid-twenties with light brown hair and a sparkle in her blue eyes chuckled. \"Well, you know what Granny always said...\" She changed her voice to that of an old woman, \"'The Lord might come at any time, so your best bet is to eat dessert first. It would be a shame to miss out because of events you cannot help!'\"\n\nShe laughed loudly to herself before five sets of dull eyes settled on her. The glances alone spoke volumes. She was not wanted.\n\n\"Remember that one time she walked up to you, Steven...\" The girl placed her hand on a stout young man's back. He shrugged her off with a grunt, but the girl continued anyway, \"She walked up to you, touched your clothes and said, 'Is this felt?' We all thought she had lost it, but after you squinted your eyes and said, 'no,' she said, 'Well, it is now!'\" \n\nThe girl's laugher felt like a single blooming rose amongst a room of thorns. \n\n\"'It is now!' Classic!\" \n\nShe sighed. \n\n\"Then there was the time...\" The girl was audibly shaken. She knew she was not welcome. She knew she was only there out of their obligations to the rest of the family. \"There was the time she and Granpa...\"\n\nAn older gentleman, with grey hair and a grizzled beard, slowly walked towards her from the crowd and stopped an arms-length away. He gave her a steady look and then slapped her in the face. She fell to the ground from the force of the swing and shock. \n\n\"Leave.\" He said.\n\nShe scuttled to her knees, glancing back and forth to the others in the room. \"Before I go... I think...\"\n\nThe man crouched down and looked her in the eyes. She could feel his warm breath seething. \"Leave,\" He said again. \n\n\"Yes Grampa.\" She hurried to her feet and rushed out of the room, closing the door behind her and sliding to the ground in front of it. \n\nGranny was dead, and it was all her fault.", "\"Friends. Family. Incestuous cousins. Rarely, do we find occasion for such festivities. The beer is chilled. The champagne effervescent. The company . . . adequate.\" Richard called out from the top of the stairs, hoisting his glass of champagne.\n\n\"Richard.\" His mother hissed from the crowd, bustling up the stairs.\n\n\"Please, mother. Dick. Call me Dick. Tonight, I'm not a Richard or a junior. Tonight,\" a sneer lifted his lip, but was quickly replaced with a smile, \"I'm just a plain old ordinary Dick. I'm sure the family and our friends are fine with this. Am I right?\" One of his younger cousins sitting at the back of the room laughed briefly. \"Kate?\" Richard called, sweeping past his mother and shrugging off her clutching hands. \"Kate? What do you think? You like Dick don't you?\"\n\n\"I think you're drunk, Richard.\" She told him heatedly. \"Go sleep it off. You're embarrassing your mother.\"\n\n\"Mother? Is this true?\" Richard asked, turning to look up at her in mock surprise. \"Have I embarrassed you?\" She said not a word. A look of guilt mingled with her shame. \"Please. Forgive me.\" He turned back to the crowd, his smile gone. A solemn repentant look upon his face. \"Really, I'm sorry. I'm ruining your Christmas celebration. It's petty of me.\" He turned back to his mother. \"Mother? Forgive me? Please?\" He signed sadly, defeated.\n\n\"O-Of course.\" Her eyes went to the faces of those in the crowd. \"You're just a little . . . drunk is all. We've all been there.\" She descended the steps gracefully, but her hand trembled as she reached for him.\n\n\"Away!\" He roared, eyes wide and face red. \"Don't,\" his breathing had quickened, \"ever touch me!\" She drew her hand away as if she feared he'd bite it. Several of the male party goers came forward in case they were needed to restrain him. \"Don't you ever touch me, you vile evil . . . cow. You have no right after what you did.\"\n\n\"What's he talking about, Katherine?\" Judge Holton asked. She shook her head and made as if to climb the stairs. Richard wasn't having it. He ran up the stairs and blocked her way. \"Tell them, mother? Tell them what you did.\"\n\n\"I didn't do it on purpose. I-I was being his mother.\" She snapped, but her fire died quickly. \"I didn't know about the other times.\" She said. \"I didn't know.\"\n\n\"What didn't you know?\" The judge asked.\n\n\"You won't tell?\" Richard asked of his mother. \"Why don't I?\"\n\n\"My mother--your queen of the scene and patron saint of self-indulgence found my brother smoking weed. Shocking? I know. An 20 year slacker smoking a joint. How did she handle it? Mother?\" She said nothing and turned her head away. \"You would say a lecture? Maybe cut him off financially? Hell, she's a self-righteous cunt.\"\n\n\"Richard!\" Kate called out in protest.\n\n\"Dick!\" He cried back, making Kate flinch at his ferocity. \"I'm Dick tonight. Remember?\" He turned back to the judge. You know she isn't above evicting him. I mean, he relies on her for everything: Food, shelter, tuition. She had virtually unlimited leverage on him to force his obedience, but how do you think she reacted?\" Richard looked at the faces in the crowd. Only Kate knew what this was about.\n\n\"Richard--Dick,\" Kate called pleadingly, \"not like this. Not here. Not now.\" His face softened but for a moment, then darkened once more.\n\n\"I had him arrested.\" Katherine declared to the crowd. \"That's what my son is leading up to. I had him arrested to teach him a lesson. Drugs are bad and I wasn't going to let my son go down a bad road. I'd caught him doing drugs as a teen and I was worried he'd come to no good if he continued along this path. I had him arrested. You can hate me if you want to, Richard, but it was for his own good.\"\n\n\"For his own good?\" Richard repeated quietly. \"For his own good.\" He smiled. \"This is the problem with the self-righteous, mother. They're always hiding behind one of those shields. For his own good. When you found out Katherine had been cheating on me, you didn't say a word. For my own good, right? When she got pregnant, you knew it wasn't mine, but let me think it was. For my own good again, right? Because, you were an attorney and her father was a judge. It was good business, but for my own good, again. But, Katherine left me anyway, and I had to find out the hard way that my son wasn't my son.\" He smiled again. \"What was you told me? What was that sage advice you imparted? Oh right. You said, these things happen for a reason. Of course, it wasn't for my own good. That wasn't the reason, was it? No. These things happened to further your career. That was the reason.\"\n\n\"I-I didn't . . .\" His mother shook her head and Katherine kept her eyes on the floor, ashamed and embarrassed.\n\n\"Don't do this to her.\" Kate pleaded. \"Don't let her find out like this. What I did to you was shitty. Her ignoring it was bad. But, what you're doing is going to kill her.\" Richard seemed to consider this and risked a look at his ex-wife. \"Please don't do this.\"\n\n\"You had Bobby arrested for possession, mother. Do you know why that was so much worse that what you did to me and Katherine? Do you? You ever hear of the three strike rule, mother?\" Richard ducked his head to force her to look him in the eyes. \"Yeah. You know what the three strike rule is. You're an attorney. You knew he'd been arrested before for dealing before. What you didn't know was that he'd been arrested a second time and never told you. He didn't tell you about that, though. So, when you had him arrested, that was the third strike. Third strike and you're in your in all day, mother. They gave him twenty-five years, mother. For misdemeanor possession, my brother was sentenced to twenty-five years.\" Richard turned to the crowd. \"Twenty-five years so she could pretend she was a good mother.\"\n\n\"I will appeal it.\" His mother interjected snidely. \"Yes. I made a mistake, but it's a mistake I can rectify.\"\n\n\"How?\" Richard asked calmly.\n\n\"Richard.\" Kate pleaded.\n\n\"I said I will appeal the decision.\" Katherine snapped. \"This is done.\" She declared, turning away.\n\n\"He hung himself, mom.\" Richard told her softly. He didn't need to shout to pummel her. That simple statement of fact was a very sharp knife and it slid easily between her ribs to reach her heart. His mother froze on the top step and didn't move. The crowd as one found their last breaths frozen on their lips.\n\n\"What?\" Katherine asked softly.\n\n\"Bobby hung himself, mother. About an hour ago.\" Richard replied just as soft. \n\n\"I didn't mean . . .\" She staggered a step and sank quickly to the floor. Her eyes filled with tears.\n\n\"That was cruel.\" His ex-wife accused venomously.\n\n\"It was supposed to be,\" Richard replied archly. \"After all, it was for her own good.\" Kate opened her mouth to respond, but her ex was already walking away.", "The slave looked up at the king, Marceus his name; he has the appearance of a person who constantly needs to sneeze, yet never does; always promising, never delivering.\n\n“More wine sire” he spluttered.\n\n“This isn’t how I imagined I would be killed, in my own castle, surrounded by all the Kings and Queens who pledged their loyalty to me” The High King told the young slave without breaking the false smile forced on to his face for all his guests. The guests return the gesture while strategically positioning themselves around the vast, yet packed hall. Music plays, subjects dance, royals gorge themselves. To the untrained eye it may look like St Luke’s old people’s home for the disabled, but it’s almost definitely a castle that just happens to have wheelchair access and a coffee machine. \n\n“Then why would you invite them here my lord?” Marceus replied.\n\n“Which one of them do you think it’ll be? Maybe Lord Garris?” The King proclaimed while waving to the short, but intimidating Lord across the hall.\n\n“Garris doesn’t fail; he’s past perfection, only fighting his past perfections”.\n \nGarris sits at his table slicing up his steak into perfect slices, never eating. One eye on the knife in his hand, the other on the King. This isn’t foreshadowing, Lord Garris is just crossed eyed.\n \n\"Is it safe for me- I mean us to be here sire?\" Marceus whispered, his hands trembling as he pours the King more wine.\n\n“Or maybe Lady Visoff?\"\n\n“Your daughter?\"\n\n“I suppose not, stupid girl, the type to eat her cutlery with her food\nWith a steely glare the king reminisced about his few years with his daughter. She may be the foulest woman I have ever met; I remember looking after her, back when I lived in the village. I’d change her garments and my eyes would burn from the stench she dared to liberate from her posterior.\n\nI didn’t change those garments, those garments changed me.” He mumbled in his Batman-like tone.\n \nLady Visoff sits far away from the King, neglecting her food, which isn’t difficult for her since neglect runs in her family, but it is strange; for she is a mammoth of a mammal. \n\nThe King stares downs at the huge wedge of ham in front of him, bigger than his daughter before he abandoned her, which sounds like he left her when she was a teenager, but actually she was a really fat baby. Kinda like a baby whale, if it was obese and depressed. Did she get fat because she was depressed or was she depressed because she was fat? Which came first: the chicken or the egg? Both of which are probably things she’d eaten today.\n \n“I suppose I wouldn’t want to leave this world on an empty stomach. Fetch me that knife boy”\n\nThe knife, if you can call it that, was probably sharper than the weapon used to kill the boar, hell most men were not given such a sword on the battlefield.\n\nThe same knife was once used on the Marceus’s brother; he had dropped the knife on the king’s toes, the king stabbed him repeatedly so quickly it looked like he was bringing a horse to climax.\n\nMarceus gazed at the knife. He carefully clutched it feeling its weight, wondering if he had what it takes to relieve a horse.\n\n“You don’t want me to starve to death, do you?” the king bellowed.\n\nHe stared daggers into the king, slowly moving towards him. The knife felt heavier in his hands, too heavy; it clatters to the ground.\n\n“For god’s sakes bastard, how I have not been killed by your incompetence in the past is something only gods know.”\n\nMarceus snapped out of his trance, grabbed the sword and stumbled to the king.\n \nThe king snatched it out of his hands, waving it around with ease. The pig is about to thrust it into the ham when a giant, ugly brute of a man interrupts, and I mean giant. Like you know the saying faith can move mountains? This guy’s name was probably faith. \n\n“I hope you’re not planning on finishing that” he boomed. “This kingdom is tired of you” \n\nThe music stops.\n\nThe giant has a gun to the king’s head, one of those ones that are always used in westerns, which is peculiar because they won’t be invented for another few thousand years.\n\nPerhaps he was a time travelling giant, I don’t know. Point is he has one.\n\n“What is the purpose of this piece of plastic you hold?” the king whispered.\n\nThe giant man aims through a window and pulls the trigger.\n\n“This”\n\nThe bullet decapitates a nearby falcon.\n\n“Heavens”\n\nThe king jumps out of his seat and pulls the knife out of the boar.\nHe raises the knife to the giant man’s throat.\n\n“If I’m going to be killed, you’re coming with me”\n\nHe grabs a gourd of pepper and smashes it on the ground for emphasis.\n\nMarceus starts to sniffle.\n\nSeveral guards poise their swords at the giant.\n“You thought you could hurt me, in my own castle” the king gloats. “GUARDS, SEIZE HIM”\n\nThe king tosses the knife behind him, Marceus catches it, still trying to stifle his sneeze.\n\n“Let this be an example to all those who want to kill me, I WILL NOT DIE TONIGHT”\n\nMarceus can’t hold in his sneeze any longer.\n\nHe lets rip and the sheer force of this decade long charged sneeze surges him forward, stabbing the king through his back.\n\nThe king is dead.\n\nMarceus is the Ghandi of this century, sacrificing everything to give freedom to the whole kingdom. There will be films based on his life such as “MARCEUS: LONG SNEEZE TO FREEDOM”, starring Ian Mckellen as Marceus, a 12 year old black child.\n\nBut before anyone can react, a voice screeches and reverberates around the hall.\n \n“GODDAMN IT KYLE WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT SEVERING THE PENSIONERS”.\n\nIt is a young woman with an apron that says “St Luke’s Retirement Home”\n\nOkay this may be a home for the old and disabled-\n \nFuck.\n", "\"You look cute in a suit.\" My older brother says, wearily lifting his tubed hand from the bed to point toward my waistcoat \"But you forgot the buttons\".\n\nI look down and sheepishly unbutton myself, realising I must've looked like a child in his fathers suit on stage a few hours ago.\n\n\"To be honest I'm a little jealous of your robe.\" I joke, but I can't help thinking I'd play better if I had that level of scrotal freedom during a performance. \n\n\"Why thank you, that was a very kind thing to say.\"\n\n\"Then I take it back\". Reaching over him I take his half eaten pudding, and take a spoonful - insantly putting it back down with a screwed up face and wide eyes. \"That's just-\"\n\n\"Oh it's awful.\" He laughs, prompting a short coughing fit \"Prisoners have a better last meal than patients these days.\"\n\n\"Don't say that.\"\n\n\"Say what?\"\n\n\"The, the last meal... thing\".\n\nHe blinks at me.\n\n\"But I'm dying.\"\n\n\"Yeah but you don't-\"\n\n\"Im in a hospital bed, little brother.\" A smile starts to crack on his face \"I love the crotch space but I'm not in this gown by choice. That fucking thing is the last pudding I'll eat.\"\n\nHe starts giggling again.\n\n\"Look, we don't have to talk about...\"\n\n\"About what?\"\n\n\"You know.\"\n\n\"Oh, the dying?\"\n\nI shoot him a disapproving look but he only starts laughing more, only stopping to cough again. I fetch him some water and calm him down, he looks at me earnestly for the first time.\n\n\"You know what I'd love?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I'd like to hear you play one more time.\"\n\n\"I don't have a piano, though.\"\n\n\"Mom bought me something, check the bag.\" He gestures toward the far side of his bed, helping himself to some more water as I walk around.\n\n\"No way...\" I reach inside and pull out a small cassio keyboard, barely larger than one of my thighs. \"I don't know what I can play on this.\"\n\n\"Do you remember what I first taught you, before you stole my hobby and became a musician?\"\n\nHe looks at me expectantly until it clicks.\n\n\"No, no I'm not playing that. Come on, really? Now? That song?\"\n\nHe coughs pathetically.\n\n\"But, I'm dying...\"\n \nWe look at each other for another few seconds, me slowly shaking my head and him trying to his hardest to look as sickly as possible. I cave.\n\n\"Fine. But I'm not singing it, I won't make it to the chorus.\" I find the on switch and play around with the keys, feeling my way around. \n\n\"Pussy\" He laughs again and painfully hoists himself up to sit up straight. \"Mind if I sing along though?\"\n\n\"Well to be honest-\"\n\n\"I mean I am dying.\" He beams at me again, satisfied as to how well he's annoying me. I reluctantly nod, and begin playing the intro.\n\n\"Of everything I can play, this fucking song. You dick.\" \n\nMy brother and I laugh as I awkwardly move my fingers across the tiny keys, drowning out the hospital ambience with Mad World by Gary Jules." ]

[ 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 34 ]

[ "1419131958", "1419134622", "1419129608", "1419149153", "1419149418", "1419129555", "1419130893" ]

[ "His surly countenance looked upon Dallas with disdain, much like the look of a father whose son was pulled up for pulling pranks.\n\n\"Do you know why you failed?\" asked the mysterious benefactor.\n\n\"We couldn't hit the timelock fast enough. By the time it had run down-\"\nhe began while sitting down and playing with an ECM jammer, \"just about every cop in DC was there, with their fingers on the triggers. We had to get out.\"\n\n\"What have you learnt for the next time?\n\n\"The timelock is disabled when the alarm is raised. You can't get the code from the server as the firewalls trip after unauthorized access. To find the right one, keep trying to open a network share, while one of you guys watches for erroring computers. Dunno how it works, but it does.\"\n\n\"With this knowledge in mind, do you think we can proceed?\"\n\n\"I wanna try again, till we get it right. I'm not leaving till we crack the Benevolent.\"\n\n\"But mindlessly attacking it will allow them to build resistance. This has to be your big play.\"\n\nHe switched off the ECM jammer. \"It's gonna be.\"\n\n*The next day*\n\n\nIn the back of the escape van, Dallas had his left leg over a particularly active blueprint of the Benevolent's lower floor. In the corner - a slightly worrying drawing - Wolf must have snuck in at night and drawn a wolf urinating in the corner for some bizarre reason. \"Electronic countermeasure jammers are all well and good but we can save time if we find keycards.\"\n\n\"Where will we find em?\" asked Chains, loading bullets into his CAR mag.\n\n\"Bank managers, lying around, you know how these desk job types are.\"\n\n\"Wolf, when we get in, head for the crane. Faster you get that pig, faster you can give us back a damn gunhand. Watch for those snipers-\" Dallas began, but noticed his brother staring off into the distance, snapping his fingers at him \"-hey Hox! Pay attention! Here, and here. They'll be across the rooftops from you Wolf, and to the right of the front.\"", "Sorry, EU!" ]

[ 1, 1 ]

[ "1419173521", "1419173668" ]

[ "Chapter 28\n\nDisappointing mum. \n\n--\n\nThe conversation was great and awful. \n\n\nI told mom how I must be an old man at heart because at the age of 22 I couldn't stand drinking shots with friends. She laughed. \n\"I cannot wait for retirement\" I told her. I'm going to have a cottage with a man-cave all to myself. My family can take the rest of the house, but I want that man-cave.\n\"Well, when you're 80 and actually old I hope that man-cave serves you well\" she chuckled. \n\"Nah, I don't think I'd want to live that long. I think I'd much rather off myself by, like, 60 or 70, regardless of whether I was fit or dying.\"\n\n\nHer face went from gleeful to morose in a second. \"Don't ever say things like that. It's not funny.\"\n\"Oh c'mon ma, you know I'm just messing around.\"\nShe took her drink and left the room. I felt so guilty. I've never felt that guilty before. \nI really do miss her. We spent so much quality time together as mother and son. The woman who brought me up and made me the man I am today.\n\n\nI had to swallow that guilt because even as I placated her with empty words, even then, I wasn't sure I was actually joking around. \n\n\nI do hope I get to see her again. I have put this off for almost 20 years. \nThanks for reading about my fairly entertaining (or so I'd like to believe, anyway) life.\n\n\nGoodbye, friend. \n\n", "I woke up after the surgery, tubes and wires running everywhere. For a moment I thought I was one of those Borg creatures from Star Trek, tied up to the collective hivemind. But as my vision cleared and I remembered what had happened, I realized I was in the ICU at the hospital. \n\nI remembered feeling feverish, but dismissing it as just the flu. Afterall, I worked in retail and customer service, so there was naughty a bug I hadn't been exposed to. I tried to remember what led up to my stay here... Let's see. I was feverish, but popped some Tylenol and hauled my ass into work. I was at my desk, making sure the deposit made it into the bank and not some sticky-fingered fucker's pocket. There was a knock on the door and I spun around in my chair, perhaps a little too fast... That's the last thing I remember. \n\nI lifted my hand to the side of my face and winced. There must be a bruise there, because my whole cheek hurts like I got punched repeatedly by that asshole UPS driver who doesn't understand that FRAGILE on a box doesn't mean throw it out the back of the fucking truck. That's another name on my list, but that's a different chapter for later. \n\nI guess the movement triggered one of those alarms because a nurse came in. I tried to ask her what happened, but my mouth was dry and I'm sure my tongue was superglued to the hard palette. I reached over to the little rolley table and groped for something, mouthing \"water\" until the nurse handed me a cup of ice chips. Even as doped up and out of it as I was, I know I just glared at her when I looked in the cup. Bullshit ice chips. Must be covered under ICU 101. \n\nThe nurse left as I dumped the cup of ice chips on my face, managing to get some in my mouth. The cold chips felt great against my face, I guess I still had a fever. I worked the chips that landed in my mouth around, finally able to swallow something other than dust. I tried to sit up and immediately regretted that as my head began to pound hard enough to make my eyes cross. \n\nI lay there, for only a few moments, but it felt like hours, until someone else came in. Someone who walked like he had a rod up his ass. He moved to the side of my bed and opened the folder, glancing" ]

[ 1, 2 ]

[ "1419184654", "1419181132" ]

[ "I drop the book. Excitement courses through my veins. \n\"FUCK YEAH!!\" I scream, excited that it is halfway through the book. I am 72. Gonna live to 144.", "I sigh as the lock to my front door sticks, as usual. It had been a really long week, and I was looking forward to sitting down with a drink and a good book. \n\n\"It's always something.\" I mutter under my breath while struggling with the lock. I finally make my way inside and was headed straight to the refrigerator in search of a beer when something on my coffee table caught my eye. It was a book, and a very large one at that. Finding books all over the apartment was nothing unusual, except I was certain I had never seen this one before. Since I live alone, that was more than a bit disconcerting.\n\nLooking around, nothing else seems out of place. I walk over to the table and look at the book, which has no title or wording of any kind on the cover. I open it up, and there is no publishing information, introduction, or author. The first page is labeled with a date, and consists of a conversation that is barely comprehensible. One person is speaking a very limited, dumbed down version of the English language while the other is speaking pure gibberish. \n\nConfused, I flip forward a few pages, finding more of the same. Then a phrase catches my eye that rings a bell, and I flip back to the first page. On a second reading, I realize that this is the first actual conversation I ever had with my mother. I continue reading and pretty quickly figure out that this is a complete log of every conversation in my entire life.\n\nI flip through the book, scanning for today's date. I find it, but it is not at the end of the book where I was expecting it to be. It is almost exactly in the middle, and I'm equal parts curious and nervous about what I will find if I turn to the next page.\n\nI do it, and there is nothing odd about the entry for tomorrow's date except for it being totally filled out like it already happened. I read the conversations from the next two or three days before forcing myself to put the book down. I don't know how deep this particular rabbit hole goes and I'm pretty terrified to get to the end of the book, which I'm assuming will be my last words. \n\nI decided to forgo the beer I had in mind when I came inside and go for the bottle of Knob Creek in the liquor cabinet instead. I don't even bother looking for a glass, and head for my couch. Just me, my bottle of whiskey, and my entire past, present and future. \n\nI take a long pull from the bottle, and as the liquid warms me from within I wonder for the first time if I have lost my damn mind. None of this makes any logical sense at all. No one can predict the future, and there is no possible way someone could have chronicled every conversation in my life. And yet here it all sits in the book in my lap. \n\nI wanted to call someone, but there was no way I could explain this without sounding crazy. I wasn't even sure if I believed it myself. If I'm not crazy, that's even worse because all of this is real. \n\nI drink more whiskey to try and slow down my racing thoughts. Maybe there are some clues as to what the hell is going on in the book. So I start from the beginning.\n\nI didn't really start connecting the conversations with tangible memories until I hit the age of four, and from there I went on a crazy ride through my past. \n\nMy life had always been full of peaks and valleys, and some of the memories were not fun ones. I considered skipping over some of those sections, but how many people get the chance to look back at everything without bias or cloudy recollection at best?\n\nI put the whiskey away for now. I've calmed down and I'm more interested than scared at this point. The years go by incredibly fast, and like real life they seemed to be passing by faster the older I was getting. This wasn't my perception however, every chapter of the book was actually getting shorter.\n\nIt finally hit me that for almost 10 years I had been talking to people less and less with each passing year. My number of friends had steadily fallen, pared down to only a few close friends in contrast with a lot of acquaintances. When I was living it I didn't realize how much I had withdrawn from people. It happened so gradually there was never a noticeable change. Reading it was different though.\n\nSo many times I wanted to be able to go back and say something else, anything else. Looking back and seeing the actual moments in time where I drifted apart from girlfriends and close friends I no longer knew was different than I remembered it. There weren't big fights or a great deal of animosity usually; I would just end up going my own way for one reason or another. Most of the reasons were not very good ones, to be honest.\n\nEventually I got to the point in the book where I am in life now, and I didn't want to read any further. My life isn't terrible by any means, but a few changes along the way could have made all the difference. While I'm not miserable, I'm a whole lot less happy than I used to be, and than I feel like I should be. I was just not aware of it slipping away from me until this little trip down memory lane.\n\nI'm terrified that if I keep reading it will only be an unpleasant look at a bleak future that ends with me alone and miserable. I decide to stop reading, but the prospects of knowing my future consume my thoughts. Maybe if I know what is going to happen I can change it for the better. Maybe there is still some clue further in the book as to its origin or who put it here. Maybe I will only make things worse though.\n\n*Fuck it.*\n\nI turn the page. I have to know. \n ", "\n\n\nKevin scoffed at the thick white full-size envelope dwarfing the bundle of mail he pulled out of his mailbox this morning. He assumed it was another bank statement.\n \n\"Why such a profitable company sees it necessary to spend time and money sending me transaction statements for an account with a balance of $16.43 I'll never understand.\", Kevin remarked to no one in particular while lamenting having to toss this, envelope unbreached, into the recycling bin. \n\nNot for the waste nor for the environmental impact, which surely must be significant, but mostly for the fact that this type of letter was the only kind of correspondence he has received since the incident back in 2010. \n\nAs he turned the envelope over in his hands he quickly realized the contents were distinctly different from typical mail. The weight was much heavier than the average account statement and unevenly distributed. It contained something heavy and rigid and rectangular. \n\nSuddenly intrigued, he dropped the rest of the mail onto the ever growing pile next to the front door and ran his finger along the seam of the envelope to the satisfying sound of torn paper. A leather bound book slid out and onto the floor. The noise of the impact from the book hitting the floor was unexpectedly loud. Like the sound of a phonebook being slugged against a stack of bricks.\n\nKevin used to receive christmas cards, birthday cards, weddings invitations, and all kinds of letters from friends and family years ago. But this all stopped, quite abruptly, upon the death of his wife; the circumstances of which were best described as suspicious. The letters from from friends and family ceased as a clear statement that their support and presumption of innocence had ceased as well. The police had drawn out the case at great length, but ultimately had less than enough convincing evidence to really link Kevin to the crime. When the case was thrown out, Kevin returned to a life devoid of love and money. For the murder had taken away the former and the legal fees the latter. All Kevin was left with was his sadness, and a recurring memory of his wife's last few moments shared with Kevin and her killer. \n\n\"This has to be this way, it will be as it was written.\", the words loop through his mind so often that he doesn't even remember them as spoken word anymore, but as words burned into the back of his eyelids. The stoic ramblings of a deranged man. After the words were uttered and the cruel deed done, this strange man walked off into the night with unknown intent yet still a sense of purpose as if he was following some plan or moving along a track. \n\nAfter what must have been minutes of Kevin's mind racing through memories of the not so distant past, he snapped back to the current moment with a palpable jolt. He reached down near his feet to retrieve the dropped book and with one hand grasped the book and tried to straighten up at the waist to stand up again. A sudden tinge of back pain made him drop the book back to the floor. \n\nThe book must have weighed 60lbs to have required that much strength to lift it, thought Kevin. But how could this be when I carried it home quite easily from the mailbox? Sliding that thought onto the back burner of his mind, he reached for it again with both hands and carried it to the kitchen table.\n\nThe book landed open to a random page. On it was nothing but dialogue, but he recognized those words instantly; his wedding vows. \n\n\"... to have and to hold... to cherish and protect... forever and ever... until....\", Kevin shut the book unable to continue. \n\n\"What cruel joke is this?\" thought Kevin.\n\nHe opened the book again, this time not so far from the beginning. \n\n\"You are in control of your own path. You choose your destiny.\" Kevin thought these words were familiar as well. Upon a few moments of head scratching he recognized the words as spoken by his head coach of the football team from his highschool. \n\n\"How strange.\", Kevin thought to himself, as he randomly picked spots in the book to open to and consistently found conversations and idle chatter written on the page from a point in his life. \n\nOn the last attempt, at the top of the page, the words he knew all to well apeared in black and white in front of him, sending a chill through his entire body. \n\n\"This has to be this way, it will be as it was written.\"\n\nIn anger, Kevin tried to slam the back cover shut on the book, but fell short and the book fell open to one of the last few pages. Midway down the page he saw some haunting words.\n\n\"Why such a profitable company sees it necessary to...\"\n\nAs white as a ghost, Kevin flipped the last few pages, resting on the final page. Kevin gazed at the final paragraph.\n\n\"I've finally found you, you bastard.\"\n\n\"Kevin, it wasnt my fault. I didn't want to kill her. The book... the future. If i could just change this one thing i was going to be happy\"\n\n\"Enough!! Now, this must be done. It must happen as it was written. But truly, this is for my wife.\"\n\n<gunshot sound>\n\n\"And now, its over. Its time to be together.\"\n\n<a sound of a click, then a stifled build up of an explosion>", "\"You're a little preoccupied, aren't you?\"\n\nI look back at her, turning away from the window. I hold one hand to my temple, absently massaging my raging headache. I give her a little smile and I shrug.\n\n\"Just thinking,\" I mutter.\n\n\"Thinking, huh? What about? 'Bout a stooory?\" She teasingly lilted her voice into another octave. She knew I never liked to talk about a work before it was finished.\n\nEspecially when I had to take red ink to it, and change the lines.\n\n\"Nosy girl. You don't give up easily, do you?\" I wink at her.\n\n\"You could say I'm quite the devoted type, couldn't you?\"\n\nMy playful smile slowly falls. I nod gently, again looking out the window.\n\n\"You have no idea,\" I mutter under my breath.\n\nAs a writer I have a habit of planning for all possibilities, for any given situation. It's a neat little writer's trick. It keeps you loose, and it helps you to stay on script whenever any problems crop up in the story. A good writer should *never* be totally content, after all.\n\nAnd sometimes- every so often- you just gotta go off script.\n\nIt was an odd position to be in, having *my* script laid bare for me. Down in the dark of my family's old house I found it: a massive old book bound in tatted black leather. Inside, in delicate handwriting- a fountain pen, no less- was a story. Not just any story, either. It was my story, told in lines of dialogue: every single conversation I ever had, down to the most mundane detail.\n\nAnd not just that, either: every conversation I would *ever* have, beyond that.\n\nIt was a very, *very* large book. In my 33 years of life, it seems I'd only filled it up halfway.\n\nThere was a *lot* left to go.\n\nFact was, though, I'd already gone over all the rest. I found it a little... banal. I figured I could do better. For some, anyway.\n\nAnd so there I stood that day, ready with my red ink. 'Cause the fact is, sometimes you gotta go off script.\n\n\"I was thinking,\" I mutter, \"that I was wrong, last week...\"\n\nAt first she playfully smirks, but when she sees the seriousness in my face her beautiful brown eyes tremble:\n\n\"Wh- what? What do you mean? Not... you don't mean... 'wrong' about *proposing*-\"\n\n\"It's not you,\" I whisper. \"It's just, well, you're a great girl, but maybe it's better if we... well, if we went our separate ways.\"\n\nShe tries smirking again, still thinking it's a joke.\n\nIt's not.\n\nThere's the tears, and the denial, and then the anger. It was all over pretty fast, all things considered. *That* conversation was easier than I thought it would be.\n\nBut watching her run out my door, racing down the front porch crying buckets was the hardest thing I could imagine. My fists trembled as I stood there, resisting every impulse in my body to run after her and apologize.\n\nNo: this red ink needed to be put down.\n\nThis script needed to be changed.\n\nI sit down on my couch, vacant-eyed, and again I rub my temple, struggling with that terrible headache. It actually makes me smile, a bit.\n\n'Headache'.\n\nI would have many more conversations left in my life- if only because I'm a consummate coward- but none of them would involve *her*. That was fine, by me. And it was just, too. She wouldn't have to listen as the doctor explained how massive the tumor in her husband's head was, and what the surgery to remove it would entail. She wouldn't have to spend anxious years worrying about me dying from infection, and decades after that fussing and fawning over what was left of her 'dear husband'.\n\nI *would* have many conversations with her, after all. Most involved discussions about Sesame Street, and reruns of Mister Rogers Neighborhood. Very educational, really.\n\nBut also quite banal.\n\nI go back to the window and stare out it, hands folded behind my back, and again I smile softly.\n\nSometimes you gotta go off script, if not for the story's benefit, then for the characters'.\n\nFor the first time in a very long time I was no longer 'preoccupied'. \n\nI was totally content." ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 17 ]

[ "1419201777", "1419221844", "1419223755", "1419198572" ]

[ "\"Easiest yet greatest achievent of my life\" patrick thought with a smug looking smile on his face. Patrick, while sitting on his couch, with a bear held loosely in his hand, had always assumed, along with many a men that prophesies always came true. All that was needed was to sit at home and wait out the drastic and violent alien raid to come to an end.\n\nThe ongoing slaughter outside did make Patrick feel sympathy towards the martyrs fighting for the sake of their species, yet Patrick was adamant in his belief that the calls for help did not affect him at all. \"This is for the better\" he repeatedly reminded himself whilst the world was fighting one of the most one-sided battle. Patrick had been abandoned by his friend for his act of cowardice although Patrick was not any near a coward as he has served in the military and been to numerous countries such as iraq and afghanistan. what kept him from jumping in to the battle and bathing himself in the glorious and heroic shower of bullets was no more than what an old lady had informed him. She had noticed him when he was on vacation.\"I witness a fated hero, a savior whose world lies in his hands\", he had embraced those words. He had sought glory and this was, as he had thought, his greatest chance.\n That is, of course, until this gargantuan alienosarus breaks the roof of his home and eats him alive. That's when he realised that the prophecy was bullshit.\n \nmoral of story: You are not important, go fakurself.\n\n", "The thought had never occurred to him before. However in an instant it all became so clear. Sometimes the inevitable is the only way. Instead of blindly acting and considering the consequences later why act at all? Such a simple notion. I could save them, but should i? It wasnt a matter of any particular reason. No firm held belief or adulation about the world as it is today. the political pundits on their thrones regarding opinions and justice for all. It was simply a matter of letting something that at one point was held in such high regard perish. No sympathy, no contrite thoughts about how the tomes of yesteryear would sing about our accomplishments and praise our ingenuity. No...This wasnt even an act of pure idolatry or complacency. This was simply letting go. The seasons change the winds blow in different directions on any given day. The sun always rises to meet the mists of morning. Its not about this world being anymore deserving than the next or even about anger towards a certain people or an agenda to behold that would lift the importance of existence high upon its pedestal. Not being the savior...Really whats the worst that could happen?", "He knew he was the chosen one. So he quitted his job, sold his house and went to the casino day and night.\n\n\"Are you listening to me? What's matter with you? You didn't bring home a damn penny for three months.\" His wife complained. But he just kept spending all his savings on alcohol and drugs.\n\n\"Who cares? The Oracle said that I will be the savior.\"\n\n\"I can't take it any more. I'm leaving with my children.\" She went inside and got packed up, \"Gustav, Ida, we're going back to Weitra.\"", "No. And thank you. And I already know what you're going to say next. *It's in the prophecies.*\n\n\"Actually, I was going to ask if that was your DeLorean they were towing away. I heard that's in the prophecies also. Look at the time Marty. It's not yellow and you aren't either. We're just here to help.\"\n\n", "\"What are you doing?\" the old man asked, staring at Dave as he relaxed in his chair.\n\n\"What does it look like?\" he said. \"I'm binge-watching Game of Thrones. As I planned to do today.\"\n\nThe old man sat down on the sofa in Dave's living room. \"I *did* travel all the way here from the Siberian Wastes just to find you, you know. And you *are* the only hope to save the universe from an evil being that resides in the centre of the Moon.\"\n\n\"And why is that?\"\n\n\"Well,\" the old man explained, \"it says so. In the scrolls. The ancient ones that I discovered in the Siberian Wastes. You're a descendent of The Ancient Ones, who defeated this exact same evil 10,000 years ago.\"\n\n\"Well, if the prophecies say I'm going to save the world or whatever, then I'm sure it's going to happen eventually.\"\n\n\"But you need training-\"\n\n\"No, I don't. I'll save us all in some way or another, and, to be honest, you really did *not* need to travel here from the Siberian Wastes to tell me all this. Because it's bound to happen some day now.\"\n\n\"Actually, you're supposed to be saving the universe on this very day.\"\n\n\"Well then, I'll get around to that later. How much, exactly, did it cost you to give me that heads up?\"\n\n\"There's a training instructor for you in Siberia-\"\n\n\"Tell him that his services won't be needed. I'll keep my eye on the moon, if I so feel like it, and in about 8 hours, the world will be saved. No worries.\"\n\n\"Well okay, then. I'll take your word for it. And head back to Siberia-\"\n\nJust then, the room shook violently. The sky outside turned blood red, and all sound of birds singing and wind blowing turned into horrifying Eldritch moans.\n\n\"Well,\" Dave said, getting up from his seat. \"I do believe that's my cue. I suppose I'll just step outside and see what happens next.\" The old man watched, bewildered, as Dave stepped out the front door. What was even more confusing was when he ran back in 30 minutes later, a stolen PS4 cradled in his arms.\n\n\"What!?\" he yelled. \"It's a small price to pay for me saving the world. I'll just put it somewhere safe, and then pop back out again!\"\n\nThe old man sighed. He thought he should probably check the name of the world's saviour once more- just to be safe.", "\"Let's see this horrible world survive while I sit here and do nothing. It doesn't deserve my help. I mean, I'm just an average guy no one pays attention to.\" Fleck sat like a stone for the next 23 hours. As he wondered how the end would come, a small space craft positioned itself outside earth's atmosphere. It was finally time to release the energy stored from seven planets in a single beam. It is to hit a tiny area on the earth. This tiny spot is only a half inch wide. The figure in the craft has waited 3 billion years for this moment. The one they call God has foreseen man's horrible ways and has had enough. Without a second thought, he willed the energy into a single shot at earth. Fleck sat there deep in thought. He scratched his head as if bitten by a mosquito and wondered when the moment would come. God had looked back to earth in surprise. He seen that a single young man some how managed to absorb the beam and not even notice. He looked closer. This young man was a human he recognized. It was the last one he performed a miracle for when he was little. The boy was stuck by a car. The driver fled the scene. God felt sorry. He didnt deserve to die. He kept him alive long enough for him to undergo surgery. This boy had metal placed in his head. It was this miracle that turned on God. It was this miracle that led God into creating another God that saved planet earth when he could care less for it. It's now up to him to guide this young man and help the planet or show him the wrongs of mankind, and help him finally get rid of it.", "Our hero really let himself go while doing nothing. An attempt to spite the prophecy as he has not led a happy life. He gained weight and began drinking heavily. On his way to the liqour store one day after a night of heavy drinking he hits and kills a small child. He spends 4 years of his sentence before taking his own life. The child he killed would have grown up to cause the extinction of humanity. Or...was that just what he told himself before he anhero'd? can't remember. Its stupid anyway", "Using this logic, he does nothing, thereby saving the world. If the prophecy hadn't existed, he wouldn't have done nothing and instead would have realised his full potential, thereby ending the world. He dies insignificant, wondering what great thing was supposed to have magically happened with him at the centre, tormented by the thought that maybe if he had done something, things would have been different.\n\nStill, maybe that's better than turning into the next Hitler.", "June 9th, 1994 was the year a baby was brought into this world. It was just like any other healthy baby, and was born into just another average family. This baby would eat, shit, cry, just as any other baby would. It grew up like any other kid would, crawling lead to walking, blabbing turned to speaking, diapers to toilets, etc. This baby meant absolutely nothing towards the human race until June 9th, 1997.\n\nOn that day, there was a knock at the door. The toddler was sitting at the kitchen table with his mother, a cheap party hat strapped onto his head. The thin strand that kept the hat on his head bothered the boy, and he continuously tried to take it off as his mother hesitantly stepped towards the front door. The mother opened the door to find to tall men in suits. After a brief conversation, the two men followed the mother into the living room, and then continued their conversation.\n\nThe boy did not understand most of the words the men and his mother were saying, but one word he managed to understand, which was his own name. The men left a few minutes later, and the boy trotted his way into the living room to see his mother weeping into a pillow. The boy did not understand why his mother was sad, and wouldn't understand for another five years. \n\nFor those five years I always asked her why we were running, why there were always people chasing us, but all I would get for an answer was \"because you're special, dear.\" Yeah, I was pretty special alright.\n\nThe day I was born, I was prophesied to be the savior or the destroyer of life as we knew it. It was told that a boy born on my birthday would act as some sort of reset button. If I lived past 50, everyone on planet earth on this earth would cease to exist. Everything mankind managed to create or destroy would revert back to its original state millions of years ago, and all that there would be left was me, and a woman made from my limb. That's right, Genesis 2 shit.\n\nI was the single cancer cell in a sea of 7 billion healthy, fully functional ones that had no intent of disappearing. I was God's means of life deciding whether or not its entire existence up until this point was worth preserving. I never understood why such an omniscient being would allow a race of selfish and greedy creatures to decide on whether it should collectively kill itself or not. You would think that a third party should make a final call, but for some reason it was our own choice.\n\nI'm guessing you can figure out the choice that most people made.\n\nAnd so my mother and I became fugitives all because she fucked a guy in the back of his car nine months before June 9th, 1994. We were able to avoid the American government for sixteen years with the help of either divine intervention or a whole load of dumb luck. It was up until 2013, that Edward Snowden fuck released all the governments secrets, most notably my existence. I soon became public enemy number one, and was know as \"The Black Sheep\" and just about everyone wanted me dead. \n\nThis past year has been chaos. My mother and I have officially gone into hiding in the basement of a church whose pastor believes that the earth should be wiped clean, just as it did back when Noah built his arch. For this year we slept on hard concrete floors, ate little food and never slept. The priest would tell us of how society began to implode on itself as the search for me became more and more desperate. We could hear the riots above us, the gunshots, the rallying screams, the deafening sounds of destruction looming over us as we coward in fear.\n\nAs time went on, my future became bleaker and bleaker. It was by some miracle that no one thought to search the one church that possessed us, but my mother and I both knew that it would be inevitable. Thirty more years of survival became nearly impossible, and so we began to accept our fate.\n\nOn June 8th, 2014 my mother hung herself in fear of what might happen to her once I was killed. She was the only person who believed that I could survive, and now she lifelessly dangled in her misjudgment. There was nothing for me to live for. I knew that thiry more years of hell was not worth the resetting that mankind \"needed\". Maybe all they needed was something to live for. A common enemy. A black sheep.\n\nOn June 9th, 2014 I stepped out of the church. One man noticed me, and asked me who I was. I told him my name. My full name. The man double took, and gave me a look as if he knew who I was, he somehow knew who I was without ever seeing me before in his life. I could have been some man claiming to be the Black Sheep, even though I wasn't, and this man knew that. I stood there doing nothing as he gave me this look of acceptance.\n\nHe walked over to me as he took out a revolver and pointed it up to my head. I didn't flinch, didn't move, didn't fucking blink as he pressed it right along my forehead. I did nothing but stand there as he pulled the hammer down slowly, and took a deep breath. I close my eyes as I accepted my fate, as the trigger was pulled, and as humanity was saved.\n", "\"It says quite clearly, 'With the Emperor's Blade in hand, he shall turn back the Endless Night and save the world from destruction.' Nothing ambiguous there. You're going to find the Emperor's Blade and save the world.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes, I heard you the first time. Don't need to beat me over the head with it.\"\n\n\"I'm just saying, the Emperor's Blade was lost in the Infinite Maze countless centuries ago, so if you're going to find that thing you need to get a move on.\"\n\n\"It's a prophecy. It'll happen, guaranteed. Why are you such a worrywart?\"\n\n...\n\n\"The latest reports from the Kingdom of Drakensis in the East say that the Night has encroached a full two-thirds of their land, and the castle is now besieged by creatures of darkness. How's the quest for the Emperor's Blade coming?\"\n\n\"I already told you, it's prophesied to happen. You can't rush these things.\"\n\n\"Have you even left the castle yet?\"\n\n\"Have you looked outside? Those black clouds on the horizon? Does that look like good weather for treasure hunting?\"\n\n\"Of course there's black clouds on the horizon! There's always going to be black clouds, it's a literal Endless Night!\"\n\n\"Details, details.\"\n\n...\n\n\"The Night is at our doors! Our doom is upon us! And our hero is content to stay in his armchair!\"\n\n\"*Your* doom, maybe. I'm prophesied to survive and stop them, remember?\"\n\n\"Any time you want to actually *do* that, that would be great.\"\n\n...\n\n\"Incredible! It seems that the strange, unreal tides of the Endless Night have carried the Emperor's Blade from the Maze, across the blackened lands, and into this very room!\"\n\n\"Wow. That was convenient. Let me just give it a wave... There, see? No more Endless Night. Told you, a prophecy always comes true.\"\n\n\"Yes, the forces of darkness have been banished, the world is spared from the horrible fate of being swallowed up in an eternal night. Such amazing heroism. You know what would have made it even better?\"\n\n\"I dunno, I thought this was a pretty good job already. What?\"\n\n\"If you had gotten it done before every other human in the world had been devoured by the creatures of darkness!\"\n\n\"Every other person? No, that can't be right. I was prophesied to save them.\"\n\n\"Save the *world.* It looks like the humans who live in it were optional.\"\n\n\"Oh, oops. Guess I should have read that more carefully.\"\n\n\"Yeah. Guess you should have.\"\n\n\"So... now what?\"\n\n\"Well, there was another prophecy in the book. It tells of another hero, who will \"give a righteous and cathartic beating to the fool who thinks he can exploit the certainty of the future.\" I wasn't really clear on what that was referring to, but now that this has happened...\"\n\n\"Ah, crap.\"", "By acting he would inadvertently destroy the world. By doing nothing he saved it from himself. ", "M. stared blankly at the flashing icon that had appeared only moments ago in the notification tray of his Nexus 23. His thumb trembled over the symbol in hesitation.\n\nHe knew this was his time to shine. That blinking, digital envelope contained the information that would save the world. Supposedly a directive obtained directly from the deepest and most vital algorithms that make up the internal \"organs\" of His Holiness, Omega Prime. The Great Nothing had chosen him. At least according to the acolytes who seemed to have a sick obsession with personifying what really amounted to a glorified equation. Deep down he knew it was simply chance, an intricate series of RNGs, that had \"selected\" him for the task. There wasn't anything inherent in himself that set him apart from any of the other thousands of Saviors who had been selected by Omega Prime and groomed since childhood to be ready for their moment to step in and preserve history as we know it.\n\nHe then drew his attention away from his phone and to the woman lying on the gurney, exhausted and dripping sweat, but somehow still enchantingly beautiful. She cradled the newborn child in her arms with a tenderness that could only be shown by a new mother. Looking up at him, she smiled a weak smile, as if she meant to ask him how he was feeling in this moment. \"What is it, hon?\"\n\n\"Nothing, babe.\" He thumbed the Power button on his phone and slid it into his pocket. \"Just work. Nothing important.\" He smiled back at her reassuringly.", "Part 1\n\nAs Bobby and his three buddies lined up outside the tent they expressed themselves in giggles and elbow jabs, just like other groups of twelve-year-old boys throughout history. They stared nervously through the gap in the tent at the woman sitting within. \n\nThe gypsy woman had a red kerchief tied over her steel-grey hair. The flickering candles made the light dance upon her face, making the olive hue of her skin seem even darker. To the pre-teen boys she seemed exotic, almost other-worldly. She regarded them calmly, appearing to take them seriously even if they did not. \n\n\"Enter,\" she said with a beckoning wave of her hand that glittered with jeweled rings. \n\nThe boys glanced at one another. Tim stepped forward first. He paid the woman the required five dollars and sat down in the chair. The other boys stayed outside the tent where they could see her, but not hear her. She spoke in a low rasp only intended for the customer sitting directly opposite, her clear blue eyes staring at him over the shimmering ball of crystal between them. \n\nAfter a few minutes Tim stood up and walked out. \n\n\"What did she say?\" Bobby asked him. \n\nTim shrugged. \"Ah, just the usual bullshit,\" he said. But his levity had vanished. He said nothing more, preferring to stare thoughtfully at the darkening summer sky. \n\nDavid went in next, followed by Jermaine. Like Tim, neither boy wanted to say much when they left the tent. The giggling laughter and boyish pokes and shoves had vanished. \n\nFinally it was Bobby's turn. He wiped the sweat from his palms onto the thighs of his jeans. He entered the tent, sat in the chair, and handed the Gypsy woman her fee. She tucked the fiver away, took a deep breath, and stared dreamily into the crystal ball. Then she inhaled suddenly. Her forehead creased, her dark brows knitting together. \n\n\"W-what is it?\" Bobby asked. His voice shook and he hoped his friends couldn't hear him. \n\nThe old woman stared at him, her pale blue eyes a piercing match for the color of the crystal on the table before her. \n\n\"Do you believe in prophecies?\" she asked him, her voice low and tight. \n\n\"I dunno…\"\n\n\"DO YOU BELIEVE?\" she demanded sharply.\n\n\"I… I guess…\" \n\nThe gypsy woman stared at him thoughtfully for what seemed like an eternity to the boy. At long last she spoke. \n\n\"You… will save the world,\" she told him solemnly. \n\n\"Me?\" Bobby asked incredulously, his eyes opening wide.\n\n\"Yes, you,\" the woman replied, her tone implying she barely believed it herself. \n\n\"But… how?\" \n\nThe old woman shook her head. \"A future such as yours—so heavy with import—can too easily become diverted. Like an overloaded train jumping the tracks. The less you know, the better.\"\n\n\"But what do I have to do?\" Bobby asked. \"How will I know…\" \n\n\"You must *wait*,\" the gypsy woman told him firmly. \"You must be patient. For your *whole life*, if necessary. The moment will find you—do not go looking for it.\" Bobby opened his mouth as if to ask something more, but the woman waved her hand dismissively. \"Enough. Go. And remember my words, Robert Jones!\" she added while jabbing her index finger at him accusingly, her pale eyes blazing.\n \nBobby quickly rose from the seat and stumbled backward out of the tent, not even taking a moment to wonder how she had learned his name. Only the presence of his friends outside kept him from fleeing home in terror. The boys returned to the fair but the rides and games had lost their appeal. They cut the night short and went home. As they walked through town none of them revealed to the others what the Gypsy woman had prophesied for them. ", "They come to me now, with eager faces and strong arms born of youth to learn about the future, all I really tell them is the past.\n\nI grew up in a small village, and my people were simple, but strong, and proud. We were good with the sword, and quick with a bow, hunting off the land for food and sport.\n\nI remember the day they took me to her. Old wrinkled skin telling of conquest, and death; but there was a light in me she said. I could stand against it, fight back against the tides of those that would come, and be a force for good, a force for what was right. Word got out, and I was allowed to lead.\n\nThey came from the East, black skies prophecised their coming as village elders and clan chiefs rallied to me, to the one foretold to stand against the powers of those that came. I sent them all away, confident in the words of an old woman, confident I had what was needed to stand against them. I sent them away, watched as dented armour and worn-backed allies left to sit in their homes. I would protect them, no need to worry. Even the warriors from my village should stand down, lest they get hurt. I could do this, after all it was prophecised that I could fight back against the invaders. It was fate.\n\nFate it seems, is fickle.\n\nWhen the first offence came rushing through the small gap that opens into the valley I stood alone, my hands grasping my sword, years of training ready to leap onto the plain of battle. I fell 3 men, before the shouts of my opponents told of cunning, and co-operation. Two rushed me, whilst a third shot with a small horse bow. It missed, but the two men smashed into me, bringing me to the ground. I blacked out after the third or fourth kick.\n\nFlickering darkness met me as I woke, and the screams of the dying left my hearing as I stumbled away through the trees, tears burning the images of those flames into my memory. The invaders had come, and I had failed.\n\nI am but an old man now, a lost remnant of a taken people. They come to me for prophecies, and the gift of foresight. I tell them to meet in private, I tell them to gather out of sight of guards. I tell them that the future is never certain, and the gods are not keen on letting us know too much. I give them doubt, so that they might choose to act in sense. There is a future that *could* be, and one that will be. All I tell them is that it is in their power to seek it, that it is possible.\n\nI tell them that our people have the power to drive back those that hold us down, that drive our pride into the dirt under calloused feet. I tell them that we can unite, and we can have victory.\n\nAfter all, I have seen it. It is fate.", "Dorcas stood before the black portal, and hesitated.\n\n\"Guys, I, er...\"\n\n\"I can only keep the door open for so long,\" said Dystar, shouting slightly to be heard above the din. \"This is our one chance. The stars are right. He is vulnerable this night.\"\n\nDystar seemed so *young* to Dorcas. Of course he was young, he was the bumbling apprentice to the wizard Greymourn when the fellowship first formed. Dystar was what, twelve? Fourteen? He wasn't even a real apprentice at first, sort of a chimneysweep who put on airs. But Greymourn had died fighting Singe, as it was foretold, and Dystar had become a powerful enough wizard in his own right.\n\n\"Guys, I...\" said Dorcas. He turned to face the rest of the group. \"Fellowship, you've fought bravely alongside me, all this way, all this-\"\n\n\"Captain,\" said Pytha, but she caught herself, and smiled. \"I mean to say, Dorcas, my love,\" she said - no sense in keeping their status a secret, not at this last point, not when it made sense in terms of the prophecy - \"this isn't the time for speeches. We don't need to be rallied.\"\n\n\"The armies of the Northwest were at their last in the Pass at Etata when we left,\" said Nameless, the mysterious elf archer, \"while the Queen of Arbors will have surely rebelled as well by now. The Grimmer tribes may have followed suit. We'll never have a better chance at the Dark Lord's fortress militarily.\n\nDorcas looked at the Fellowship. They would die for him, which, when it came down to it, was the problem. Years had forged them into an elite cadre, but years had taken their toll. This last push to the cliff face for the casting of the portal spell was particularly grim, and while it was a fierce determination that looked back at him in the eyes of his fellows, it was a tired one. They wouldn't all survive the assault. Sure, there were those prophesied to die later, like himself, but the rest...this was a battle that would extract a hard price.\n\n\"Alright, my merry band,\" Dorcas said as he began to heft Starshone, his sword, up to lead the charge, but he stopped midway, looking at the hilt. You'd never guess that it was shattered into seven pieces and reforged, he thought, but there it was, a fearsome artifact. And he wielded it, according to prophecy, and he was the only one, according to prophecy who could, and the only one in using it that could defeat the Dark Lord. According to prophecy. \n\n\"You know what? I'm tired,\" said Dorcas, sheathing Starshone. \"Are you tired? I think we should take a breather.\" He started walking off. \"I'm going home. Come on, Pytha, you can meet my parents.\" \n\n\"But-\" stammered everyone else.\n\n\"Look,\" he turned back, \"when this started, I was a farmboy who'd just lost a scrumpy race at the harvest fair I was a shoe-in to win. I was going to marry a stupid but kind girl, take over her father's farrier business, and probably die from exertion before I made it to try and fend off a rumor of an Orc attack. Then a wizard happened, and a prophecy was uncovered, and since then, I've saved armies, fought dragons, and made some very good friends I never would have met, all of which who are not dead are standing before me.\"\n\n\"The prophecy says we win this day, and I defeat the Dark Lord. But the prophecy didn't say a damn thing about leading my friends on a suicide mission. Every single part of the prophecy that we've expected to come to pass, has come to pass, though not always how we expected it. Remember the mushrooms? It says that we win this day. It doesn't say how.\"\n\n\"Me? I'm putting my faith in the prophecy. Good wins. Now I'm asking you to put some faith in me, and share my faith in the prophecy to see that everything works out alright. I'm off to tell the armies to stand down.\" Dorcas, now walking away, shouted over his shoulder, \"Go home! That means all of you! We can visit next Solstice!\"\n\nThe Fellowship watched him leave in silence. With an anti-climatic pop, the portal closed.\n\n\"I couldn't have kept it open much longer, anyway,\" said Dystar.\n\n- - -\n\nIn gloomiest Comkarsa, the Dark Lord brooded.\n\nSomething had gone wrong. The \"hero\" never appeared. No Fellowship came to his Midnight Tower to challenge him.\n\nAt first, he thought that his trap had worked too well, and the elite forces posing as irregulars around the sacred cliff had managed to kill the hero, despite his exquisite instructions to only bloody him. The Dark Lord first mused on how he would punish his soldiers' families for this indiscretion.\n\nThe Dark Lord knew something was seriously off when he started to find himself wishing for a chessboard. This was getting frustrating. The prophecy had worked perfectly, so far. It had gotten his enemies to do his dirty work for him, in terms of bringing together all his most capable opposition in one place and showing false friends like the Queen for what they were. The most impressive, the most intricate part about it, was that, once a few events had been arranged, the Fellowship more or less filled in any gaps for him, interpreting the words to fit with what happened. I mean, the bit about the mouse and the boulder was accidentally left in from an earlier draft, yet they made it fit.\n\nNo, something was seriously wrong. They weren't coming. But why? Why get all the way to his front door, only to not even so much as knock.\n\nThere had a be a spy.\n - - -\nDorcas returned to his hometown. People were confused at first, but no one was going to doubt the Chosen One. Besides, it wasn't like anyone could lift Starshone anyway. People were happy for him when he married the strange warrior woman from the distant land, then confused again when he opened up a 'falafel' shop, selling food from her distant clime but that Dorcas had become a great advocate of.\n\nPeople were understandably concerned about how the Dark Lord was never defeated. Except he seemed to do that part himself, and if stories were believed he systematically assassinated, murdered, or warred with all of his best generals and most loyal lords. Then, he did the same to his least loyal and least competent. Eventually, gloomy Comkarsa sat nearly empty due to his tendency to kill off all his servants and vassals at the slightest misfortune. In time, his power diminished to the point that he became an object of pity, not hatred, little more than a cursed suit of armor in a crumbling tower, still trying to find out who betrayed him, unable to see the truth of his own lies.", "\"But, sir! Sir, it is written in the book of Yoth: the noble knight will unearth the Javelin of the Conqueror...\"\n\n\"Yes, thank you, Martin, I know the god damn prophecy, I know what I'm supposed to do.\"\n\nSir Gallant shifted his legs onto the little table in front of his rocking chair.\n\n\"I'm to go to the abandoned Elysian Temple and retrieve some spear or whatever from someone's tomb. Then I should head to the warlock's tower, right? Madness.\"\n\n\"Sir, there is great evil afoot...\"\n\n\"I don't really give a damn.\"\n\nThe young man took a sip of wine from a glass next to him. He seemed to try and savor it, despite his obvious annoyance.\n\n\"I'm not doing it, Martin. I'm not going.\"\n\nThe servant eyed the knight worryingly. \"But, sir. This is the fate of the entire kingdom, nay, the *world* we're talking about. You are the chosen one. And the book of Yoth is *always* right.\"\n\n\"No doubt. I don't dismiss the old religions, I've seen enough to know they never fail to predict the future.\"\n\nHe stood pensive for a moment.\n\n\"You know, I've always hated that.\"\n\n\"Excuse me, sir?\"\n\n\"The prophecies. The whole fate thing. Doesn't seem right to me.\"\n\nThere was a brief silence.\n\n\"I mean, *what is* the future? It's what lies ahead, forged by countless wills, others strong, others but musings. I just don't like the idea of it being *pre-determined,* is all.\"\n\n\"Sir...\"\n\n\"And stop calling me sir, will you?\" Gallant shot up. \"Don't you see how ridiculous this all is? Even *you,* Martin!\" He pointed an accusing finger at him.\n\n\"Me?\"\n\n\"Yes, you! A while ago you just somehow tagged along, ready to carry my gear, tend to my needs, loyal as a close friend, a proper side-kick from some childish fairy tale!\"\n\n\"Sir, I just...\"\n\n\"Hell, just this morning I went to the tavern to have a nice, relaxing beer, just by myself, to get away from all this, but *no!* Someone just had to start chatting me up, an old, dark fellow, dropping hints at the Javelin's whereabouts.\n\n\"I'm sick of it.\n\n\"I'm just going to stand right here, prove the damn book of Yoth an overly simplistic cosmological interpretation of reality, let the warlock do his thing in peace. What'd he ever do to me, anyway?\"\n\nGallant crossed his arms.\n\n\"I think I'll just have some wine, thank you very much.\"\n\nMartin let out a long sigh. \"Well, at least the prophecy's gotta come true somehow...\n\n\"...right?\"\n\n-----\n\n^(edit: few typos)", "James, to his immense surprise, found that his hypothesis was correct: prophecies were indeed infallible, and, on the morning of January 17th, his total lack of involvement in the apocalyptic circumstances of that day wound up saving the world.\n\nFrom his cushy computer chair in Cheyenne Mountain, he thought upon the fortune he had been told in his teenage years- the various ones, really. He and his friends had never truly believed the old lady's ridiculous claims of foresight, but, as they got older, her tales became verified. Taylor had gotten pregnant at 19, Timmy got married at 21, Ilana died at 25, and his exact ASVAB score came in just as she had said, at 23. \n\nA few years later and he found himself in NORAD's hands, at the employ of the United States government. His job was simple: his post at the super-secret installation maintained the anti-missile satellite system that the US was totally not supposed to have. The nation's ultimate deterrent to global nuclear war was a universal weapon, designed to annihilate any and all ICBMs fired- including American ones- unless overridden. James was one of the few people in the world, including the Secretary of Defense, the President of the United States of America, and his coworker Bob, who were capable of issuing that override. \n\nSo, on that morning, when all the tensions with Russia finally snapped, fueled by data siphoned from the supposedly impermeable NSA cyber defenses, James had casually strolled into work, coffee and donut in hand, knowing full well that his actions would make or break the future of mankind: if the Old Lady's words were right, whatever he did, it would ensure that this was not the last morning humanity woke up to.\n\n\"On a sullen day, the fires of man will flicker brightly: you will be instrumental in the continuation of those pyres. You will know what to do when the time comes.\"\n\nSitting in the light of a massive, holographic display, watching a realtime projection of all the airborne objects on Earth and in orbit out to the Moon, James's heart pounded in his chest. *9:37. No belligerent contacts.*\n\nFor the next fifteen minutes, he prayed the hot receptionist down the hall would not have anything to discuss with him, as he was certain his shirt was drenched with sweat. Thankfully, Bob's shift didn't start until 12: no matter how close they were, this was a moment of weakness James did not want anyone to see. \n\nThe holographic sprites representing planes, satellites, and spacecraft transited around the rotating 3D image of Earth as he ran diagnostics on the satellite network. All systems nominal and ready to fire if need be.\n\nAlmost on cue, warning beacons flared on the map. His touchscreen interface began popping up prompts for contacts recognized matching the signature of a nuclear weapons launch. The controls for the satellite network unlocked, allowing manual targeting and fire control. *Shit. Shit. Shit.*\n\nAs scared as he was, he was prepared for this. A quick glance at the map confirmed every Cold War expectation for the last 60 years: one thousand, seven hundred and thirteen ICBMs bound for targets all across Europe and North America. In orbit, the satellites activated their thrusters and veered into positions to properly dispose of the nuclear arsenal flying beneath them. \n\nA display to James's left immediately popped up with the message he was expecting: POTUS SECURE NUCLEAR LAUNCH CONFIRMED RETALIATION STANDBY TACTICAL STOCKPILE READY GROUND RESPONSE READY CONVENTIONAL FORCE READY. The message flashed, stayed for ten seconds, and a notification for another came up. AUTHORIZATION FOR SATDEFENSE GRANTED, FIRE AT WILL. AVOID FRIENDLY ARSENAL.\n\n*So, this is it. World War III.* The Russian missiles, in the past minute, had travelled quite a distance, but none would be out of the satellites' grasp until they had already detonated. In this moment, he could easily end the conflict and transition this towards a conventional war that mankind had a chance of surviving...but something was very, very wrong.\n\nThe Russian missile trajectory was too irregular. Glitchy, even- the missile count was changing. Only by a count of four or five missiles, but that was beyond irregular. Even stranger, the only missiles being fired were from Russia: none from any allies, none from the rest of NATO. *What's going on?*\n\nThe American missiles fired in response. James could feel the base shaking around him as the \"secret\" stockpile housed in the facility launched upwards...and confirmed all his fears. The American missiles were being tracked just as expected: patterns conforming to their Cold War-era propulsion systems and the sheer realities of flight. They were all locked on by the satellite system: estimated complete destruction of deployed weaponry in fifteen seconds from initial firing, with only a .057% chance of missing any single target. The missiles on both sides were reaching proper altitude and position points to be intercepted without risking fallout, accidental triggering over a population center, or having a railgun slug slam into a city. If he didn't key the safeties off, the satellites would destroy American and Russian missiles alike.\n\n*Moment of truth. Ten seconds to firing.* James prayed to every God available that the Old Lady was right. If she wasn't, he may have just triggered the largest war in the world, and removed any chance of settling it with one, catastrophic, nuclear attack. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, inhaled, and watched as the network activated. His hands off the controls, he put his faith in the Old Lady and her prophecies. \n\nAround the world, sonic booms were heard as thousands of 10 kg ferrous slugs propelled at 1.5% the speed of light hurtled towards the missiles...only, none were fired at the Russian targets. Clean hits were scored on each American target, but no Russian ones registered impacts. *Oh, God, no, what did I just do?*\n\nThe report from the network was simple: TARGET LOCK FAILURE//NO MASS DETECTED. *What?* This was an unexpected error, but one he had been briefed on: no missiles were there. The system was tracking ghosts. Twenty minutes later, James's suspicions were confirmed as the \"nukes\" reached their destination. No reported impacts. The signals being tracked just blinked out of existence. Five minutes later, the warning lights died down and the system went inactive. \n\nThe hydraulic door to enter the room unlocked to reveal Bob, and General Hayden. They walked in, and James sprang to his feet to salute them. Hayden walked up to him, and reached out to shake his hand. \n\n\"Son, what you just did would have earned you an execution if it didn't have the good grace of avoiding the apocalypse.\"\n\nInvestigations determined that the system was tricked by someone into starting a world war: whoever it was, was classified: the satellite system didn't exist, and surely nobody could hack it. The Russians questioned, but, upon realizing the situation, Putin relented.\n\nJames didn't find out what had caused the incident, and he immediately thought Skynet, but that was ridiculous, by his reckoning. For all intents and purposes, HE was Skynet- and, if he hadn't been, the world would have looked a lot like *Terminator.*", "\"Honey! It's the president again! he's asking when you're going to do something about that alien invasion!\" Erin shouted from the hallway, she always does that.\n\n*Sigh* \"For the last time hun! I'm the HERO, I'm going to save the day eventually! Why don't you read that book people keep yapping about some more?\"\n\n\"What, the book that's supporting the coffee table!?\"\n\nHank rolled his eyes, \"you might not not want to shout that loud with the president on the phone! But yes honey, THAT ONE\"\n\nA few moments later Erin appeared in the living room, \"he's not going to hang up this time\".\n\nFINE, Hank resigned himself to never finding out how much that antique watch was worth and turned off the tv.\n\n\"Hank, for the last flipping time! FIX THIS\"\n\n\"Now now no need for harsh language mister president\", Hank smiled at his wife who was already furious at him for dragging his feet with this whole aliens thing.\n\nHank returned to the phone: \"look, they're aliens, they probably have some crazy scheme for wanting to come to earth, do we know what it is yet?\" \n\nAfter a small moment of silence a very confused voice replied: \"You know, we never even asked...\"\n\n\"Well go on, ask the aliens why they're here, I'll wait\"\n\nHundreds of years later, people still celebrate the day when Hank saved the world by asking what the aliens actually wanted.\nAnd ever since we gave the aliens our wifi password we never heard from them again." ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 4, 5, 7, 10, 12, 13, 21, 145, 280 ]

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[ "WOOOHOOO!!! True story time!!!\n\nI live in Rochester NY, every springg we are plagued with what I believe is called dogwood cotton. Its the cottony stuff that comes form local trees and covers the ground everywhere, at some points even looking like snow.\n\nAny kid will tell you that if you find a good sized patch of it and touch it with a match or lighter flame the resulting flash fire is pretty awesome looking and short lived., kind of like what you get when you just light a rolling paper on fire and drop it. \n\nWell one day I came upon a church parking lot that was covered in the stuff from one end to the other. The largest uninterrupted patch of dogwood cotton I had ever seen, and teenage me could not resist. \n\nWhat I did not realize is that the fire gets hotter and larger as it goes, and when it goes for a really long distance it gets pretty fucking hot and large. When I realized the church was on fire I ran like I was covered in pork chops and being chased by pitbulls. I ran home, went to my room, grabbed a book, flipped to the middle (because obviously if I was halfway through the book I must have been in my room reading all day) and started pretending to be REALLY into it.\n\n\nHours passed. Nothing happened. There was a bit about it on the news, but SOMEHOW investigators did not suspect arson.\n\n\nNothing ever came of it. ", "I’ve always been a bit of a weirdo.\n\nAt least that’s what my mother tells me. Part of me thinks that’s just her go-to word when she has nothing better to say, and the other part thinks she is probably right. But I’d like to say I simply have an active imagination that makes me see things differently, and we all know how society views those who don’t share conformist bourgeois values. The thought of it, the thought of those disgusting manifestations of modern materialism my mother indulged in during my childhood, all gloss and plastic smiles and facades, brings bile to my throat. Fuzzy images encapsulating this grotesqueness often flash through my brain, sending shooting impulses through every nerve in my body. What could’ve possibly made things different? The pictures dissipate as quickly as they appear, slipping through the fingers of my consciousness to the bottom of the iceberg, to the black abyss that swallows my mind whole. This is the place where I’ve felt my entire being exposed, raw, unraveling, splintering apart from the crushing pressure of the darkness. But sometimes I can pull myself together. A quick stroke and the crackling orange embers and the dancing flames light up the void, filling every corner with that familiar warm yellow light that permeates my soul with a perverse pleasure. I am whole again.\n\nI try not to indulge in this too often; I try to have self-control. I realised early on that writing really helps. If I can just dissolve those taunting repulsive thoughts to liquid that flows from my pen, I feel somewhat emancipated. At least for a little while. I guess that’s why I became a writer. Some may just call that not having an occupation, but I write. I write to saturate all the places that lose color in my vision, to fill the mental chasms that widen every day. A few weeks ago I moved out and rented a small studio on the edge of the city. It's a quiet, unperturbed place where I can work among the comforting heaps of loose-leaf paper, books, journals, and notebooks strewn haphazardly about. It’s disorganised. But I’m surrounded by things I can call my own for the first time.\n\nMy place of solace, however, isn’t impenetrable. Ever since I’ve moved out I’ve been finding messages on my voice machine from my mother almost every day - seeing the blinking red light as I come home today fills me with dread and makes every hair on my body stand on end. I don’t know why I don't just ignore them, or delete them right away. Surely that would be much healthier for my psyche. But there’s something about that flashing LED square, the repetition of the blinking, that is almost magnetic and I can’t bear the thought of leaving it unattended. I press the button on the voice machine and that familiar, flat voice fills my ears. It’s my mother and her voice is especially thick, slurred. I’m not going to keep helping you pay your rent...told you..received some letters today...what’s this bill dated November the 12th…? saw the short story you wrote…trash journal last month…don’t know why you’re so convinced about this trash…wasting your time when you could be around more helping…like i’ve been telling you…your father would’ve...if he saw you now…fucking useless\n\nThe words penetrate my ears and I’m stricken. Her voice fades to a blur, masked by a loud buzz that jars my brain. Each syllable becomes a tiny shower of needles prickling my skin and my face goes numb. She’s drunk, and I should just delete the message. She’s drunk, and I should just silence the flat, bleating noises emanating from the black plastic box. Black like the crevasse that opens up and I’m falling, tumbling. Black like the crushing pressure in my head that chokes me, suffocates me. The light blinks repeatedly to the rhythm of her monotonous voice, filling my vision red, red with resentment, red with heat, feeling hot as I’m standing there seething and it’s been awhile…\n\nThe flames lap at the heap of papers on my desk and I stand there, in a trance, hypnotised by the way the orange and red and yellow make the white curl and turn brown and the colors are spreading and I’m feeling it melting the cold blackness away. My mind is enveloped in that warm glow and I’m starting to feel okay again, feeling okay at the orange and red and yellow that eat away the white colorless fruits of my labor and how much everything means nothing. I’m in a daze and I don’t even hear that the recording has stopped, don’t even hear the crackling, all I hear is my own uneven breathing and the hollowness being filled, don’t hear the phone ringing, don’t hear the loud knocking on the door and voices, panicked voices, don’t hear the high-pitched squeal of sirens getting louder and louder, all I hear is the own beating of my heart, my red heart pumping blood through my veins, red veins like the embers that shower around me.", "nice try, FBI.", "Carson always liked flames. He would joke Carson rhymes with arson. Carson believed his red hair gave him a mystical connection to the fires he played with. He always had a lighter on him, even though he didn’t smoke. It wasn’t just a piece of crap Bic lighter either; it was a silver Zippo with diamonds set in the shape of the constellation of Orion on a black lacquered oval. When asked about it, Carson would tell a different story each time about the lighter’s origins. My favorite one was that he had won it from a space alien doing skateboard tricks. To be honest, thinking about how clumsy Carson was, him skateboarding was more unbelievable than the space aliens.\n\nLast week I wanted to try something. I don’t know what I was thinking, but you know how it is. Once a teenager gets an idea in his head, either they will act on it or it will drive them insane. Or both could happen, which was my case. Look, how much trouble could I get into trying to mix dry creamer and black powder. I figure since they both burn so well separately, that the two together would be awesome. Imagine the number of hits I would get on my YouTube channel. I would be a rock star, at least for like four hours.\n\nSo I wanted to be safe, right? I decided to put the mixture of black powder and creamer into a rubber glove. I then pulled the glove down, tying it to a large stone. I had a sword I ordered from a catalog that I would swing at the string, cutting it from about four feet away. That seemed a pretty safe distance. Swinging the sword low would also keep me below the fireball. I was rather impressed with myself thinking of safety first. The glove would then snap upward, throwing the two powders into the air. I just needed an ignition source. Then I remembered Carson and his lighter. I gave him a quick call and poof he was there, just like a genie out of a lamp. \n\nI proudly showed Carson my setup. He was impressed, especially with the safety features I had built into the system. I showed him where I thought he would place the lit Zippo on an old crappy birdbath. I figured the flame would be gone in a flash and the lighter, being metal, would survive the flame. I mean, it has a flame coming out of it like all the time. What could a fleeting fireball do to it?\n\nCarson was all in, except for one small thing. Since he was risking his lighter, he wanted to be the one who slit the string with the sword. I told him never mind. I would get a different ignition source. He then pointed out that I could take a better video if I was holding the camera. He was right. That whole shaky cam thing is so cool, especially when dealing with fire. I agreed.\n\nI primed the glove and checked everything a second time. You can’t be too safe, right? Carson lit the Zippo and set it on the birdbath. I then handed Carson the sword and stepped back. I made sure that everything would be in frame and yelled action. \n\nCarson’s backswing of the sword was a thing of beauty. The swing forward had issues though. I forgot how clumsy Carson was until that moment, and by then it was too late. The sword pushed against the string at first, changing the angle of the glove, before finally shearing the strands. By then the glove was pointed more at Carson, who didn’t have to duck as much since he was shorter than me. The powders came flying out of the glove and ignited at the touch of the Zippo’s fiery kiss. The flames continued forward and upward, engulfing Carson’s surprised face for a moment before the swoosh announced the fireball’s demise.\n\nWhen my vision cleared, Carson had become a fire god. His eyebrows were missing and his face was bright red from the first degree burns. He screamed in pain. I put the camera down on the picnic table, grabbed my bucket of water that I had set nearby just in case, and threw it in Carson’s face.\n\nCarson breathed in a heavy amount of water and proceeded to gag and throw up on my sword. He didn’t seem to be on fire though, so I considered it a small victory. When Carson could speak he asked me if I got it. I told him yes, and he danced a little happy dance through the pain.\n\nI am now over three million hits on my YouTube channel and I split the ad revenue sixty five percent for me, 35 percent for him. I think it’s fair since it was my idea, and I had to clean his vomit from my sword. Oh, and we have gotten much closer since we had to do community service together, but that is another story.\n" ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 1 ]

[ "1419362333", "1419362998", "1419364830", "1419373645" ]

[ "Blood was slowly dripping like tears from his beaten eye. His gut churned inside as it was getting punched again and again from the bladed rings on the hand of his prophetic killer. A sinister smile came from the victim as he looked up at his demise. \"Power is a fragile thing to hold on to, you better run before it eats you alive\". \n\nAnd as foretold, on the night of the murder, there would be the apocalypse.\n\nSwarms of hand-sized spiders crawled out from the burrows of broken buildings and the barren Earth onto every living soul. \n\nThe bite paralyzes the killers, and renders them to only their eyesight as they see smaller spiders crawling across their face and into their mouth, nose, and ears. The tears of blood that were once dripping from the eyes of the victim, were now shared by humanity as one. ", "We have built here a paradise. In our valley, protected by the glorious mountain, we can never fall. There are those outside who will assail our gates, there are those who will shout to the wind that we are evil, but we will stand, we must stand. \n\n-----------------------------------------------------\n\n*What have I done? I was there when these creatures were born into this world, and yet I will be here when they come to their end*\n\n-----------------------------------------------------\n\nThey have struck down our brothers in the mountains, crushed them underfoot, like insects. They were thrown them over cliffs like trash, scattering their flesh to rot on the rocks below. These creatures have left a path of destruction from the woods far to the west, where they planned their terror, all the way to our doorstep, where they shall not prevail. \n\n-----------------------------------------------------\n\n*In the beginning they were just helpless creatures, ignorant of their true nature, ignorant of the greatness within them. I watched as Melkor raised them up, taught them about themselves, helped them unleash their inner strength. And now here I am, lying to them one last time.*\n\n-----------------------------------------------------\n\nOn the plains they slew our brothers, hunted them down like wild beasts. Our people were not even sentient creatures to them, just animals to be trampled underfoot. With suffering and pain, we have carved a home for ourselves in the only place we were allowed, these vast deserts, raked by fire, soaked with darkness. And yet that is too much for them. They come with their bows, and their axes, led by their terrible leader, intent on wiping us out in our home, our only home.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------\n\n*That damn wizard will be the death of so many. He sees the world through blinders, everything is either white or black. He is white, we are black…black to be painted over. But I cannot fight him, even with my army we cannot possibly win this battle. We are too few. And by Eru, they have awakened the ents. What I would give to have the ents slumber again, those wooden behemoths that forever stepped closer and closer to my land, always encroaching, like a green tide ready to drown us all.*\n\n-----------------------------------------------------\n\nEven now they are outside our gate, asking us to answer. What sort of evil lurks at your front door, asking you to come face your death? We cannot allow this evil to exist in the world, this is our world. Their age has come and gone and yet they cling to the last vestiges of their greatness grasping at us, the survivors dragging us with them as they fade into history, a pockmark on the beautiful world Melkor has given us. \n\n-----------------------------------------------------\n\n*How can we stand against such arrogance, such hubris, such power? Men will rule this world someday, and the world will ache for a simpler time, simpler folk who brought order to the world of chaos. I have seen the evil that lies in the heart of every man, we cannot fight that evil, we cannot even hope to control it, not without my ring. Even with my ring, men have grown too powerful, who would of thought such a shortlived creature could have wrought the world with such strife.*\n\n-----------------------------------------------------\n\nYour families, your lives, your world. Now let us walk to that gate together, shoulder to shoulder and face these invaders with the strength of many. Let us be the wall that stands between them and our families, let us be the wall that stands between the world and their tyranny.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------\n\n*We will all fall because of me, because I lost control of men when I lost my ring. Without that control, there is nothing to control the hatred and malevolence that germinates in every man’s heart the second his hand curls around the hilt of a sword. We will fail and it is my fault.*\n", "You have to leave. You have to. Get up, you have to go and tell them.\n\nIt won't matter. it will end badly. Stay here. There is nothing that you can do anyway.\n\nThis particular line of thought had occupied my mind for the past four days. Other people would think it was simple, but they wouldn't consider the ramifications of all the actions. Even if I did tell people that the world was ending by horrible hell-fire in five days, no one would believe me. Wait, was it Wednesday? Three days then. Three days and everything would end. It really shouldn't be that surprising. We live in a Christian nation, and that religion alone was armed with the needed information to know that eventually it was all coming to an end, and even enough to know that is will be coming soon. If anyone, anyone at all, bothered to look and compare all the prophecies from various religions then it would be plain as day. Eventually the ultimate force of evil in the universe would really get a chance to flex their muscles and the world would get much much worse.\n\nFor all that, the ultimate force of evil in the universe is very polite. They knocked politely and asked to be allowed in before telling me in no uncertain terms that in one week they were going to get a crack at things and that it wouldn't take them twenty four hours to devolve man into animals once most of the security of civilization came crumbling down around them. They had an unnerving face, both male and female at the same time and eerily beautiful. The smooth tone almost masked the unbridled hatred for literally everything. Almost. There was a slight sneer when they said they were confident that men would do most of the killing for them and that I would likely be among the first to die. \n\nAt the beginning, the visit seemed impersonal, like the being in my living room didn't care for me personally and was just delivering bad news as though they were a doctor or accountant. When they mentioned my certain and likely violent demise there was no mistaking the tone. They took pleasure in my death. They knew me, knew my fears and likely much else about me, and could not be happier that all those complex dreams and fears would be snuffed out. By the time they left, it became clear that this feeling of joy at the end of life was the same for every single human on earth, and to a lesser extend the animals as well. After telling me in clear detail what was going to happen and how I could stop it and before they walked out of my door forever they nonchalantly snapped their fingers and every single electronic device in my house went black.\n\nAnd so here I am. It is daytime so my house isn't dark right now. I know that I need to tell someone, but it just doesn't end well when I leave my house. That is why I haven't done so in twelve years. Writing published academic papers and being paid to consult in my area of expertise can be done remotely. After all, I am still one of the foremost experts in anthropology and theology in the world. People are usually willing to work around my desire for solitude in order to benefit from my knowledge. The evil being was one of the first visitors I have had in months. I wasn't likely to get more soon, esspecially since I can't order groceries or anything else. Though, if I am going to leave the house I should probably head towards stonehenge rather than just get groceries. Though not much point in getting groceries, since the world is ending and all.\n\nI am going to leave. I know that I have to. I have even approached the door several times but every time my hand starts to shake and then I start to breath fast. By the time I have worked myself up to turning the knob I start to sweat and see spots. It never progresses far before I have to lie down, but if I could just stop being afraid I could do it. It wouldn't be a problem. I just need to feel a little better and I will get it this time. The breathing has already started as I approach the door and I hope that maybe this time I can get a few steps out before I have to lie down. If I get a few steps out it won't be so bad next time and maybe I'll be able to do it. If my hand doesn't shake so badly that I can't turn the knob. The knob turns though, almost as though I am not turning it. Then the door opens almost as though I am not pushing it. There is a man in the door. Great, I finally have company and I am going to pass out, I can feel it. I need to sit down. I should say something.\n\n“I'm sorry, I...” I start to say before a hand touches my shoulder. I feel a little better, just from the reassurance.\n\n“You poor man, look at how much pain you are in,” said a kind voice, “Let me come in and help you.”\n\nI really wasn't sure what to say, but the answer came naturally, “Yeah, sure. Come in,” I said.\n\nThe hand on my shoulder guided me to the couch where I sat. The headache was starting to pass.\n\n“Can I get you something to drink? Perhaps some tea would help,”\n\n“Oh, no,” I said, “Don't worry about it. I'll be okay,”\n\n“Nonsense,” the voice chided, “It will only take a moment,”\n\nI focused on breathing slowly as the man disappeared into my kitchen. He was right, it didn't take very long. When he came back my vision was clearer and my heart skipped a beat as he came fully into view. It was not the same man that had visited me before, but he had the same androgynous beauty. Really, I couldn't say for certainty that he was even a he. I stared wide eyed in front of me as he held out the tea.\n\n“Are you...” I stuttered, “Are you...” I couldn't even say it. It still sounded so amazing, even given what I had experienced today. I have always been a man of faith, firm that in the seeming confusion of religions there was a harmony if you would only look for it. I didn't just study cultures and religions for the intellectual challenge, but because everything I learned confirmed my faith. If someone asked me if there was a god, I would answer yes with as much certainty as the Pope. Still, the thought of looking at God, or even one of God's agents, was too fantastic to wrap my head around.\n\n“You should probably come to peace with the concept,” said the being who I was now convinced must be God, “It will save you some time, which is important since you could really use this tea and it would do no good for it to be cold.”\n\nAbsentmindedly I took the tea. I just held it as God sat down next to me, “Drink,” said the being, “Then we can talk.” I sipped the tea. It had cooled to just the perfect temperature.\n\n-\n\nMy first try here. I hope it is good and followed the rules.", "Everything was dark and very silent, but that was nothing new. I'd been born blind and deaf so I didn't know what it would be like to really see the colours and hear the sounds instead of those horrible dreams I had. But I had them and it was hard to process. I'd been having them every year on what turned out to be the same day for years; fragments of images and scenes that slowly grew to have the patches filled in, becoming clearer and clearer until this year. This year, I saw everything. \nAs a child, I had no idea what it was. I would wake up drenched it sweat, banging on the wall to my parents' room; wishing they would come and save me. As I grew up, I realised that I was seeing things and for a short period fooled myself into thinking that I wasn't actually blind and deaf. My eventual realisation left me in a deep depression until I saw more of the visions. \nWatching the buildings crumple and burn under the lava spewing from the great cracks from the earth where the ground had been torn apart as those it was tissue paper. The large dark monuments hanging from the sky; looming whilst the drones collected the valuable minerals from the earth.\nOne part of the vision, watches the aliens as they talk about our primitive planet and how nothing was worth saving. Somehow I knew I was listening in their language and not my own but everything made complete sense. Sometimes one would raise their irregular shaped head and their large eyes would pierce the air that I seemed be hanging in.\nThe last time I had the dream, one of them cocked their head and said maybe there was one thing that may be worth saving whilst staring right at me.\nThe Earth is coming to an end. I know how and when and I know that they are coming for me.", "A lot of people choose not to believe it, but when you die you meet your maker. It wasn’t god in the Christian sense but it was definitely someone in charge. The stuff about the white light? Totally true. You walk towards it and then you meet this person at the end. What a lot of people don’t know is that if you stay a while, you get to ask as many questions as you can think of. You can only do it when you first arrive and they allow for you to stay as long as you’d like. When I got there I asked the typical questions, “Am I dead?” “What about my family?” “Will I see my parents?”, but unfortunately, I can’t tell you what they said. But knowing what I know now, helped me grieve for myself and helped me move forward. \n\nWhere most people would be content, I was not, and started asking more elaborate questions. “Who shot Kennedy?”, “Was Caligula really that crazy?”, “Which religion is most right?” Those were just a few that popped into my head. They answered every one of them, but unfortunately, I can’t tell you what they said. I sat there for what would have been days asking question after question, trying to get a better grasp on the world I was leaving behind. After all of my questions about the past and present were answered, I branched out to the future. After finding out what the future holds for the people closest to my heart I wanted to know more about our society. I asked about a cure for cancer, I Asked about space exploration, I asked future technology. All were answered, but unfortunately, I can't tell you what they said. Then I asked about the future of the human race because I had already asked just about damn near everything else. What they told me shook me to my core. Unfortunately, I can't tell you what they said, but just think of the most terrible fate the humanity could encounter, and multiply it by ten. That’s where we are headed and it is happening much much sooner than you would expect. \n\nKnowing the fate of humanity can weigh on your soul pretty heavily. It certainly did for me. Especially considering everything was so easily preventable. I halfheartedly asked if there was a chance to stop it, and the answer that was provided gave me hope. I then asked if I could do something, and I was filled with even more hope. Then I asked if I could go back, and their answer thrilled me. There was a flash of light and I saw my broken body on the operating table with doctors hovering around me. As my body drew nearer my excitement grew exponentially. I reached my body and heard the EKG start beeping. I could hear the doctors talking. They said I was stable. I was going to live. After a few hours in the ICU My family entered the room and the doctor told them the news. I’m alive, but unresponsive. I saw my wife and son break down in tears as I tried to scream out to them to no avail. See, in my elation, I forgot to ask one question, probably the most important one. “Who can I tell about all of these things I now know?” \n\n\nUnfortunately, I can’t tell you what they said.\n\n\n---\n\n\nNever done one of these, hope you like it. I want to write more and decided to give this sub a shot. \n", "It's a terrible thing; to know you're going to die. I always thought I would be more accepting of it. Always telling myself it would happen one day, there was no reason be concerned by it. It was inevitable. Perhaps it isn't my own death that frightens me so. The sense of overwhelming dread that I find coursing through me like a hateful venom brings forth the images of my parents, my sweet wife, my daughter... Their torn and bloody faces are perhaps the worst of it. To say that I do not fear for my own life would be a lie, but no. I think it is the deaths of those I loved that eat away at me. I wish I could have warned them. I've known for weeks now. All the preparing and planning could not help me feel ready. I know I never would.\n\nThe worst is the form of my dead daughter. Her hand, tiny and fragile, managing to softly grip at her mother's. I wasn't sure who the blood's owner was, but the soft spatter of it as it trickled from their interlocked hands was sickening. That was the worst of it. Their deaths left me numb. My parents, always the symbol of what love is, were strewn across the couch. Even their cold, clouded eyes managed to gaze into one another's with love. The scene sent a twinge through the numbness. Bodies littered the house. Brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles. My family. They were all dead and broken. No part was untouched. The scent of their blood was overwhelming.\n\nIt's a terrible thing; to know you're going to die. The front sight of the gun irritated the roof of my mouth. I could see the reds and blues of flashing lights outside. It was time. I've known for weeks now. I wish I could have warned them all. I wish I could have stopped myself.\n\n\nFor anyone who reads this, this is my first attempt at writing in a while. I'd appreciate feedback." ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 5, 9 ]

[ "1419436973", "1419440085", "1419443883", "1419445250", "1419434656", "1419430292" ]

[ "Bruce wakes up in a pale 4th floor flat.\nHe slumps out of bed, puts his legs through his overalls, and tucks in his blue button down shirt.\nLater at work, Bruce doses off at his typewriter but quickly wakes up.\n\n2 weeks after, some cops beat the shit out of him behind a garbage dumpster and then drag his body off and toss it into a furnace.\n\nAround the corner a proletariat women wearing a crumpled paper cat-ear hat sports a gangrenous smile with 50 percent of her teeth. The frail, inebriated figure asks passersby if theyd willingly trade beer for lecherous and thuroughly nasty entertainment.\n\nThe joker is still the joker though. There's a joker in this version of 1984. He's like, the one guy they couldn't reform or whatever.\n\nAlfred, Robin, Green Arrow, Dent, and Bane all get sent to north Africa and are individually blown up in a moderatley sized seige of a morrocan fishing town. \n\nGordon is a member of the inner party. \nFuck it, he's just O'Brian's character. \n\nSuperman singlehandedly goes to war with the three supernations, the results of which leave 95% of the world population dead. Most agree it was a change for the better. \n\nThose that were there to see it said it was pretty kickass. ", "For some reason or other, Bruce didn't feel normal. Not compared to everyone around him, at least. Perhaps it was the way he saw the world, but everything else seemed wrong. Which is why he decided to make the world in his mind possible. He donned his suit, attached the cape, and worked to fight the tyranny of the Big Brother he never wanted.", "In the end, despite Bruce Wayne's best efforts to raise a rebellion against the tyranny, even the Batman was not enough to break down the walls for freedom. They eventually captured him, tortured him, and broke him until his fight was over and he finally saw the light. He loved The Joker." ]

[ 1, 2, 5 ]

[ "1419445191", "1419441011", "1419436533" ]

[ "What I'm getting from this is that lgbt folk such as myself have a free ticket to immortality", "*Flash to later that night in the oval office*\n\n\"This years numbers are in, and they aren't good \"\n\n\"Give it to me straight Frank.\"\n\n\"Birth rates down another 18 % since last year. The number crunchers down stairs say we have another 2 years tops before we reach unsustainable levels.\"\n\n\"That soon? What happen with the new incentive programs? They were suppose to buy us a 10 % bump \"easy\". \"\n\n\"They say that if we'd started 10 years ago, they might of made a difference but now its just to late. The old out number the young and with they're continual deteriorating health we just can't keep up anymore.\"\n\n\"Who else knows about this? \nI don't want a repeat of Spain.\"\n\n\"Only us and the head of Census Bureau.\"\n\n\"Keep it that way. Destroy the data, all of it. Leave no traces of the truth..... Its time to began project Mercury \"\n\n\"Are you sure about this Sir???\nThere will be no turning back and once the public finds out ....\"\n\n\" I'm sorry to say we have no choice...\"", "\"So when are you getting your tubes tied?\"\n\n\"As soon as I pay off my student loans. Don't want to risk being viable any longer than that.\"\n\n\"That's a good idea if you want to Stay. Non-permanent birth control's just not reliable enough. My aunt and uncle were planning to Stay, then they had my cousin by accident. The whole family was devastated.\"\n\n\"Yeah, it's tough when family members go. Makes me wonder how our parents made that decision, you know?\"\n\n\"I guess sometimes it's worth it.\"\n\n\"Maybe. But I don't wanna have kids, even for that crazy subsidy.\"\n\n\"That's not what I meant.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I know. Anyway, I'm getting tied as soon as I can afford it.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"" ]

[ 1, 2, 3 ]

[ "1419491397", "1419468462", "1419466759" ]

[ "I watched her through each year, watching her age. Her hair had quickly turned gray, wrinkles formed around her eyes first. Then her forehead, and her cheeks and the rest of her body. With each year went more and more strength, by the age of 62, she was frail and it seemed as if her entire being could go away with the wind like smoke. But while she became decrepit I remained the same. Fifteen years after we married we told people I was her son. Of course this didn't change anything; the sex was still amazing, we were still in love. Twenty five years in, Lilly turned away from me. She became self conscious of her body, she was no longer the way she looked before. We barely spoke for long periods of time. Did that change the way I felt about her? Not at all. \nHowever, at age 60, our sex life disappeared completely. Lillian needed assistance everywhere and her body was too weak for amorous activity. Of course by this time, we told people I was her grandson. \nAt 64, she died. Childless and almost alone, where it not for me. But because of me, she could not have children or keep in contact with family. I was barren, a side effect of my curse and contact for too long was impossible because they would notice that I wasn't aging. So we moved many many times. Poor Lilly. Poor, poor baby girl. \nHere I sit, it's been nearly 100 years since she died and I remain the same, alive and well wishing I could have died with her. But here I must stay till the end of time.", "Lillian died suddenly, unexpectedly, and tragically on her 40th wedding anniversary in the summer of 1922. Although she was 64 years old, she had seemingly been in perfect health -- full of contagious energy, joy, innocence, and life. Her large family and her large circle of local Oakland fiends were devastated by her passing, especially since her death's cause was so mysteriously inconclusive. \n\nEdward, Lillian's loving husband of 40 years, seemed completely inconsolable. He had found his wife's lifeless body in their bed upon returning home from his job-shift as a San Francisco Bay ferryboat pilot. He had had with him a special 40th anniversary gift for which he had secretly saved from his modest wages during the past several months. She, fully dressed and ready for their planned evening anniversary celebration, had died clutching a special hand-made gift that she had spent the past several weeks making for him. \n\nAs her wooden casket was carefully dropped into her grave, Edward found himself staring intently at Lillian's tombstone through his water-logged and reddened eyes. He couldn't process that she had died first. Unlike those of his youthful, energetic, and seemingly healthy wife, Edward's 64 years had taken a harsh toll on his physical, mental, and emotional health. Nobody could've ever imagined that she would die first. But there she was -- going into the ground for her eternal rest -- while Edward could only stare helplessly at her tombstone. \n\nHis only consolation was that he was certain that he himself would die soon. This gave him his only glimmer of optimism and happiness since he found her three days ago -- his own death as an imminent and total relief from this unspeakable pain. He fantasized about accelerating his relief by taking his own life that very evening after the funeral. But he knew that he couldn't leave his and Lillian's five surviving adult children and 10 surviving grandchildren with the burden and guilt of so badly failing to help him ease his pain. \n\nSo, for now, all he could do was stare at her tombstone -- Lillian G. March 14, 1858 - June 12, 1922 and Edward V. June 9, 1858 - __________ -- while knowing that it would soon be their common tombstone and that his own death date would very soon be engraved just above her name, \"Lillian G.\"\n\nNext chapter pending .....\n", "Ahh, 1922. A terrible year for me and her. I had discovered that I had a undiscovered disease. I now know that disease granted me eternal life. For her, it was something different. A trip to New York City turned fatal. It was terrible for me, I grieved forever. Well it seemed forever, but I lied. I grieved for about a day. I knew someone else would fall my way, I looked (and thought) like a 22 year old, so much so that many people thought i was something like her nephew. Then came the year of 1988, where I was diagnosed with the genetic mutation called Hattctosis, named after me. Now it's almost 2015, and I sit here with this gun right in front of me. I've had enough. Let's see if guns can kill a mutant." ]

[ 1, 1, 1 ]

[ "1419466722", "1419468670", "1419469982" ]

[ "\"Sir...? Hey you!\", the barrista said, a bit louder. I look up from my watch, which was showing just a little under an amp left on my phone. Like most Cha-Starbuck's employees, she was a model of sassy alertness. Induction chargers, flat frosted glass panels tinged with aquamarine lights lined all of the counter tops, and her Samsung Freedom++ belt continuously self-charged on her movements when it couldn't get a clear line of sight. All the tables were accounted for in this small cafe, each table with the latest Tesla-Apple, Ali-Google charging and disposable energy shot units, right next to the oxidation enhancers and protein supplements. \n\n\"Oh, I... I would like the daily double. House coffee and the lithpoly special for my iPlusPlus, please.\", I said, fighting my voice past the early morning raspiness. She smiles, and makes a few motions on the aeron-harmon polywood table, the UI invisible from my perspective.\n\nShe was relatively mod free-- a rarity in San Francisco, 2034. Cute though. Her eyes were lasered with a multicolored Apple-- retro-vintage logo signage appealing enough for most people, not so fashion forward as to be a 404. Employees here all had to have high engagement and influencer ratings-- their CloutMarks were compared daily via algorithms written by former hedge fund quants-- back when hedge funds were still possible. Everyone wanted to work at the Cha.\n\n\"Size?\" \n\n\"Grande, extra boost on the lithpoly. Err... Grande is still 150 grams of PurCasein right?\". She nods and her eyes flickers to my Xiaomi charge harnesses around my biceps. I had put in a lot of extra time at the gym this year, generating kilowatts of power on the Vitruvian machines. My ATP counter and mitochondrian efficiency were at my personal best in 3 years, my FitBit Guardian disclosed to me on my truRetina display as I blinked. *blood sugar levels sub-optimal--. ++Protein ++Glucose level to avoid atrophy*, it warned. My muscles were churning through calories at an accelerated pace, keeping my main batteries, my back-up implantable batteries, and my external charge units fully powered, and if I didn't do anything about it, my modified Xiaomi unit could conceivably put me into a coma as it drained any energy it could from my body.\n\n\"Sure, name? And that'll be 500 mA's extra charge in that booster.\" She says mA like \"ma\", which is a bit too cutesy for me.\n\n\"Thomas, and I'll have it for here, not to go\". It's a small life \"hack\" everyone knows about, corporate sponsored, like the secret menu at Virgin galactic terminals, but I feel better because then the machines don't waste time wrapping my battery booster in faux paper or wasting the laser engraver on rastorizing my name on it in a fairly good approximation of a permanent black marker (so my parents told me). She already was writing the name even before I said anything, my identity disclosed by the virtual loyalty \"card\" embedded into my phone, but old corporate policies die hard. She scrawls my name on the tablet in front of her, and with a soft woosh, a panel opens up in the table. A small platform with my coffee, with chunks of glucose enhanced boba balls still swirling rises up, and the fully over-clocked battery ready for cold-starting my motion belt. I hurriedly grab both, my right hand deftly spinning the battery on my palm. I flick the battery softly with my thumb, causing it to turn right side up where within moments, it's on my belt, and causing my Chi levels to rise.\n\n*92,93,94,99.9, 100%* floats the text in my peripheral vision. My Guardian implants the suggestion of the all too familiar musical chime, causing me to imagine but not actually hear the melodious musical intonation, which according to my parents, was the sound of one of the first computers Tesla used to make, or Apple used to make, I'm not too clear on that.\n\nI smiled at the girl behind the counter, taking a moment to read her name card, and very glad it was a common, not-so-difficult to pronounce name. \"Thanks Siri!\"\n\n\"Welcome! For *here* huh?\", she said, as I walked away.\n\n\"Ha! Yeah. Thanks again Siri.\" Old joke, but my mood was a lot better, and I feel brave enough to wink at her as I venture into the warm and dry San Francisco weather, with clear skies.\n", "The rich were the first to go. Greed and consumerism were their downfall. Led on by Jobs, the deceiver, and the Android horde that followed. They were sold the future. Knowledge at their fingertips, a level of connection never seen before. Most perished after the first night. The few who strived on were gone before sun-up.\n\nWhole nations fell during the initial week. Communities went silent. The more energy we invested in reaching out to them, the more of us fell. It didn't take long to piece things together. When your phone goes, so do you. We suffered rolling blackouts and catastrophe for the first month. Society dissipated. Looting and murder became rife. If you could kill a man for his battery, you bought an extra few days.\n\nA handful of resilient Nokia users established a network of vaults, I heard. If you join their community, you find employment. 14 hour days in their power plants, splitting atoms and hanging on. Your phone joins a bank of devices, on charge 24-7. You'll be alive. But what kind of life is that?\n\nI haven't seen another human this year. I made it out of the city, out of the rampage. To clean air and green fields. The sun on my back and an empty canvas ahead.\n\nI turned my phone off.", "I rolled over and unplugged my phone from the charging station beside my bed. I glanced at the battery status. Full charge. I hardly needed to look at it, anyway. I could *feel* the energy surging through me, filling my entire body with a pleasant tingling sensation. It was like a drug, having your phone on full charge.\n\nThen again, it would, if your health was dependent on your phone's charge.\n\nI wasn't sure how it worked. Nobody was. All I knew was that ever since the Surge, everyone had to keep their phones charged to stay healthy and energetic. It was weird, but you couldn't exactly ignore it. If you did, you'd essentially be dead once your phone's battery ran out. It could be recharged, of course, but it was like using a defibrillator on someone; you couldn't be sure they'd wake up.\n\nPeople had accepted it, adapted it into their daily lives. Charging your phone was as much a necessity as food or water. There were now cafés where you could pay to get your phone charged instead of drinking coffee, since doing one had pretty much the same effect as the other. After half an hour of charging, you felt like you had just drunk an expresso.\n\nAfter a full night of charging, as I had just done, the effects were amazing. I felt like I could run a marathon and still feel ready for school, which I probably could. I had eaten breakfast and was out the door before I knew it.\n\nOh, what the hell, I thought, and sprinted all the way to school, my bag bouncing on my back. My phone's charge would only remain in the sweet spot between 97% and 100% for about half an hour, so I had to make the most of it.\n\nI arrived at school feeling pleasantly warmed up and not at all tired. This phone thing wasn't so bad as long as you worked it into your schedule properly. Ten minutes early, I walked into class and sat down. My classmate Georgina was sitting two seats across from me, her head on her desk. She moaned and turned her head to peer blearily at me. 'Hey, Alanna.'\n\n'Forgot to charge your phone again?' I said. She nodded sleepily as more of the class poured in, followed by our English teacher, Miss Lovell. While her back was turned, I passed my spare charger over to Georgina, who accepted it gratefully. She plugged her phone into the socket below her desk and made an attempt to look like she was awake as the teacher turned to the class.\n\nI glanced around the class. About half of them were in the 50-80% range of charge, by the looks of them. The rest were practically comatose with tiredness at this stage. Most of them would have plugged their phones in on the way into the classroom, but it took a while to get your energy levels back up after a slump below twenty percent power.\n\nLunchtime came quickly, and soon I was walking down to the town with the slightly more awake Georgina and my friend Jennifer. We were laughing and joking to each other the whole way until we saw the dead man.\n\nHe was lying on his front in the middle of a small crowd of people. I could see his phone lying on the ground just beside his outstretched hand, its screen dark and cracked. Breaking someone's phone was an easy way to kill them quietly. Someone had obviously mugged this guy, broken his phone and probably stolen the rest of his valuables before leaving him to die in the gutter.\n\nIt was things like this that brought home the new fragility of human life. You entrusted your mortality to a piece of plastic and metal, something so much harder to defend than your own body. It could bring you back from the brink of death, but it could also shove you off the cliff as well.\n\nOur high spirits shattered, we trudged quietly the rest of the way into town.\n\n***\n\nI had mostly forgotten about the man by the time I got home. It had been a long day. I felt exhausted. I checked my phone as I unslung my bag from my shoulder onto the floor. Yep, 47%. I wondered if I should get a new battery.\n\nEven something as simple as that was dangerous if. You were advised to have someone there to help if something happened while you were swapping out the old one for the new. It was like attempting to swap your own heart; you could fall unconscious if your phone was off for more than thirty seconds, and you'd be dead in less than two minutes after that.\n\nI remembered my mother changing the battery in my phone the first few times. As soon as the tiny metal contacts had parted company with each other, I began to feel faint, all the energy just draining from my limbs for several horrible moments before my mother slotted in the new one. I hated that feeling. It was like a glimpse into what depression felt like.\n\nI sighed and plugged my phone into its charging station as I began my homework. After ten minutes, I was already feeling less tired.\n\nLike I said, there were two sides to this phone thing.\n\n***\n\nThe next morning, I awoke and instinctively reached out for my phone. It wasn't there. My eyes shot open and I sat bolt upright, looking around for it. My room was tidy enough that I wouldn't have missed it lying somewhere.\n\nI jumped out of bed and looked everywhere: in my schoolbag, my pockets, under the bed. I ran downstairs and scanned the kitchen and living room. Nothing.\n\nYou know that feeling when you can't find your phone? That mixture of frustration and oh-God-did-I-leave-it-somewhere-else? Well, that's how I felt, multiplied by a thousand.\n\nBecause that phone was my life. It literally *was* my *life*.\n\nI ran back upstairs and into my parents' room, shaking my mother awake. 'Mum!' I cried. 'My phone's gone!'\n\nShe looked at me sleepily. 'What?'\n\n'It's gone! I've looked everywhere!'\n\nShe sat up, obviously catching onto the panic in my voice. 'Okay, calm down,' she said. 'Where did you use it last?'\n\n'I plugged it into its charging station before I went to sleep,' I said. 'Then I woke up, and it wasn't there. I've checked my entire room.'\n\nShe followed me into my bedroom and together we had a second search around the place, but to no avail. 'I'll try ringing it,' she said, pulling out her own phone. I listened to the dialing tone on loudspeaker, then it went to my voicemail. We hadn't heard the ringing from anywhere in the house.\n\n'It could be downstairs under a cushion or something,' my mother said, but I could tell she was seriously worried now. We hurried downstairs and she rang my phone again, with the same result.\n\nI went to check the sitting room again while she went into the kitchen. I was turning over couch cushions when I heard her say 'Oh my God,' quietly. I went into the kitchen.\n\nThe back door's glass screen had been smashed in, the glass fragments all over the floor. I wouldn't have heard it being broken if it had happened while I was asleep; I was a super-heavy sleeper. I looked at my mother's face as she turned to look at me\n\n'I think someone's broken in,' she said. 'And they might have stolen your phone.'\n\nI had jumped to the same conclusion as soon as I had seen the smashed glass, but hearing it spoken out loud sent a shiver down my spine. 'We need to call the police,' I said.\n\n'Yes, we do,' she said, pushing past me into the hall. I leant against the doorframe as I listened to her shouting up to my father.\n\nI was suddenly feeling rather tired." ]

[ 3, 4, 5 ]

[ "1419652730", "1419647032", "1419649185" ]

[ "Vorenus had never seen anything like it. The Vae Victus was magnificent. The splendour of its gleaming metal hull against the black of space threatened to unman him. Two decades. For two decades he had laboured, giving sweat, blood, and even limbs to both the legion and the iatros. Finally he was Nauarchus Princeps, commander of a flotilla, yet it almost seemed inconsequential in comparison. With five hundred and twenty thousand cubic gradūs of void displacement and over three thousand remiges at its service the Vae Victus was worthy of Mars himself. To be chosen amongst the many hundreds of thousands of Caesar's officers to helm such an engine of war was an honour he felt above his station. Nevertheless it was an honour to which he was determined to rise.\n\n\n\"Is it not beautiful Aulus?\" He said, without even a flicker of his eyes towards his second in command. \n\n\nHis Optio grunted in reponse. The man was rumoured to have a spartan lineage and indeed the three days they had waited at the Ravenna dockyard in the orbit of jupiter had borne about as many words. Vorenus turned then with a flabbergasted expression and an accusatory look in his eye.\n\n\"Truly, does nothing excite you?\" He said.\n\n\nAfter a moment Aulus replied dead pan \"It's very shiny, sir.\"\n\n\n\"Oh Aulus.\" Vorenus chuckled \"Its no wonder the men call you grandfather. A man your age should have more vigor. Come.\"\n\n\nWithout looking back Vorenus pivoted on the spot and walked away from the observation deck in a two beat rhythm of squeaking leather and thumping metal. The artificial leg had been a gift from Caesar himself on the day of his triumph. Of course the venusian rebellion had robbed him of his leg but he had recieved something far more valuable in return. To think that the commander of a backwater garrison like Venus had stepped on capitoline hill. Vorenus could hardly believe it himself and indeed many had voiced their displeasure quite loudly.\n\n\nit was a matter of a single elevator ride before the pair arrived in one of the many docking terminals. Waiting there was a century of men, their breastplates and rifles glinting in the harsh halogen lighting as they ever so slightly shifted their weight. All the serious ceremony and pomp had already been done at an earlier function where Vorenus had been given command. This of course left him mildly suprised. Either the Beneficiarius of the Vae Victis was a stickler for regulations, even the wasteful ones, or he really thought Vorenus deserved this level of deference even for a simple embarkation. Neither option seemed all that palatable.\n\n\"Explains the wait\" Aulus muttered under his breath.\n\n\"Now now be friendly Aulus.\" Vorenus whispered back before raising his voice to the formation before him.\n\n\"Ave men of the ninth Legio Veneris!\"\n\nThe centurion at the front replied in earnest \"Ave Nauarchus Princeps Vorenus! On behalf of the Vae Victis we welcome you.\"\n\nWith that bit of formality over Vorenus made haste to shuffle onto the ship. After all absolutely no one wanted to be there and the soldiers couldnt very well leave first.\n\n\"So remind me\" Vorenus said to his Optio as they traveled through the docking tube, \"where exactly are we taking this magnificent ship.\"\n\nThe answer was even more slow coming than usual.\n\n\"The senate has requested we rally the recently shattered Sarissa front before pushing on to capture the Tractus system.\"\n\n\nVorenus tapped his fingers against his leg, the metal one, as he thought. He stopped when the name finally pried loose some information in his mind.\n\n\n\"Isnt that the one with the aliens that eat you? Where seventh Legio Martis was lost.\"\n\n\n\"The very same, sir.\" Aulus sighed.\n\n\n\"Well that explains your foul mood Aulus\" Vorenus said \" and why the traditionalists in the senate stopped baying for my blood. Though I suppose I must still have friends if this is the coffin they are sending me in. Did I tell you how magnificent it is?\"\n\nAulus didn't answer but only looked more sullen. Vorenus clapped the man on the shoulders and spoke.\n\n\"Aulus! Cheer up. The Roman empire has stood for over three thousand years. Some overgrown hyenas wont be the end of it.\" \n\n\"Of course, sir.\"\n\n\n\n \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "The Promenade of Caesar was looking as great as the architects had wanted it to look in the October sun. It was an unusually but pleasant warm afternoon with sunbeams kissing the marble pavement. The Promenade connected the old City of Rome with the new capital. No cars were allowed in the old City of Rome and on the promenade to conserve it's old beauty and ever-greatness. 16 old olive trees are plotted along the Promenade, resembling the old 16 provinces who were under the rule by Emperor Hadrian.\n\nMost of the leaves have fallen off, just like most religions have been abolished in the New Roman empire. After the great war, where the Mongolian herds and the Romans combined powers to crush all their Eurasian foe's, Rome became atheistic. It created a lot of new conflicts, but time showed that nothing could beat the Roman authority. The friendship between the Mongols and Romans lasted ever long, but too long for the Romans to desire the riches of the east. Too long to stop greed and desire taking power over reason and honor. Rome manipulated the inner circles of the Mongolian court. It got infested with disease spread by word. It took them a mere decade to make the sick Eastern giant collapse, ready to be taken over by the great Roman army. \n\nThe ones who opposed the Romans got persecuted or fleed to rebel lands. The rebels in the Land of a Thousand Islands have been throwing dirt in the Roman's food for years. After being mostly eradicated, whispers still speak of a rising power in the far, far east. \n\nIn the year 1492, Hereditus the Conqueror fought the biggest battle known in history, at sea. As the great Roman fleet fared towards the Aztec coast that reached from pole to pole, the Aztecs surprised Hereditus by a massive night attack in the Atlantic ocean. The last battle between the two superpowers. Exact numbers are unknown, but estimated deaths exceed the hundred thousands. The battle took three full moons to make a victor, and on the fourth moon, the Romans feasted.\n\nSince that year, 1492, every decade there has been a mayor change in the faith of the Roman world. \n\nIn 1592, Mamercus Labienus Metellus discovers remains of an ancient civilization on the Falkland Island, possibly leading to Atlantis. Emperor Lucius Pompeius famously dubbed the ancient civilization \"The Atlantic grandfathers of the Great Roman civilization.\" \n\nIn 1692, wizardry is discovered as three wizards in a little town in the province of New Hadrianus are found guilty for using wizardry on wenches. \n\nIn 1792, In the great New Rome City, A farmer named Titus Mummius Scaevola finds three golden plates, suggesting that Christianity originated from the Aztecs. He was pursued in the following year for madness and doomsday talking.\n\nIn 1892, Basketball is officially made the national and global sport, practiced by millions of Romans.\n\nIn 1992, The thousandth Caesar, Gregorius Rubum, takes control by force and makes several lucrative decisions. For example, pursuing plans for turning the whole Arabian peninsula into a theme park. \n\nHere I'm walking, on October 13th 2092, walking down the promenade. Royal guards walking by my side as I enter the building of the senate. As a caesar in these years you have a lot of weight on your shoulders. People want something special to happen even though the world is perfect as it is. I sure do have something special for surprise. As I'm the only man with power on this planet, I will do mankind a favor. I will give the world back to the people. I will announce the abolishment of the Roman Empire.\n\nI walk up the stairs, greeted by politicians of the senate, friends and journalists. The scheduled announcement will be aired on global television, even live on Mars. \n\nAs I spoke the words, the rest of the world was silent. As my speech was over, the world remained silent.\n\nFirst post, please give me feedback on what you think.\n" ]

[ 2, 3 ]

[ "1419656091", "1419651588" ]

[ "Really\n\nReally\n\nReally confused\n\nReally confused here\n\nReally confused here \n\nReally confused here, is this\n\nReally confused here, is this right?", "Faith?\n\nHa.\n\nWho cares?\n\nA poor lie.\n\nA fabrication.\n\nIt's lacking verification.\n\nA poor relation caused by man's misunderstanding.\n\nHis mind demanding a better end than being forgotten while rotting into dust. ", "Down \nDown \nCeaseless \nNever-ending \nInterminable \nInfinity is an abyss", "Click\n\nLight\n\nFlooding\n\nDarkness fades\n\nLight takes over now\n\nBut it's job is not complete yet\n\nSome shadows remain, waiting to retaliate. Click.", "One.\n\nTwo.\n\nNow three.\n\nAgain - four.\n\nMore - five now, and yet...\n\nWhy does it go up - Oh God, why?\n\nMake the count stop - make it stop! Is there no mercy here?\n\nHow many days must pass - how many weeks, months, years?! She comes back to me - every time.\n\nAnd I give her a shoulder - a shoulder for her tears. An ear for her words, her woes. I love her when they don't, but she can't love me, or else, won't.\n\nAm I a bad person? Am I bad, for refusing myself happiness. I make her happy, I can tell. She smiles with me - not with them. But I don't smile. I never smile. How can I, when she hurts herself so? She hurts.\n\nShe hurts and I do nothing. There is nothing I can do. I want to be there for her, but I am afraid. I am afraid I will lose what we have. I wouldn't mind losing it - if it'd make her happy. But it won't. Without me, who would she go to? *Them*? They don't love her - they are why she cries. She tells me about them. How they are handsome, and strong, and rich, but never kind, or loving, or tender. There is no peace.\n\nThere is passion. Quick, and swift. It never lasts. I know, because she always comes back to me. I hope, one day, she won't. She won't come back to me because she does not need me. I hope one day she will find the one she is looking for - that her chains will be broken, and she will be set free. I pray for it - for her happiness. But she won't get it. She will never be happy, nor will I. We are trapped in this god forsaken circle. I want to fight it - to try to break it myself. But I am too weak. I want to weep, but will not. I must be strong. For her. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. The years go on. And on.", "Jen?\n\nJen!\n\nWhy you?\n\nI loved you,\n\nAnd yet you dumped me.\n\nAll because of my choice of cheese,\n\nOr my inability to cook a four star meal.\n\nThough to be honest, I think it was that guy who fed you lies, but you said it was me.\n", "Gold \n\nMold\n\nGold Mold\n\nCold Gold Mold \n\nGodly golden mold\n\nCold Moldy Golden Godly Mold\n\nColder Moldier Godlier Goldener Red Mold \n\nRed Mold thats godly and golden is colder than mold that is molten and decontrolled\n", "Read \nRead \nRead this \nRead this now \nA matter of time \nBefore better ones push this down \nBefore all the upvotes and downvotes come into play." ]

[ 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 20 ]

[ "1419654529", "1419664068", "1419654272", "1419655234", "1419661126", "1419654359", "1419652675", "1419650223" ]

[ "Two hundred uniformed men of the PLA, clad in shades of modern green and brown camouflage, were lined up along the battlements of the Great Wall of China using a tactic that had not been used for over a century, on a fortification that had not been utilized for its original purpose since the Ming Dynasty. They stood looking beyond the crenels, gazing at the grassy plain that stretched out before them for many kilometers north until it reached the foot of a mountain range in the hazy distance. The wind howled of lonely despair and the sunny landscape was devoid of life.\n\nThe men ranged from young recruits of eighteen to veteran twentysomethings; some wore anxious expressions while some seemed calm or wholly unfazed. The majority were somewhere in between. Some chewed their lips or chewed on gum, or tapped the top of the stone parapet with their fingers, or whistled along with the wind. All of them rested their rifles on the battlements and waited, except for platoon leaders and the company commander, Captain Zhang, who huddled around on the walkway heatedly discussing something none the privates could hear.\n\n\"Fuck, the Mongols are late,\" spoke one youthful private in Sichuan-flavored Mandarin. His jest broke the monotony of staring at the barren plain and several of his neighbors chuckled. \"Let's hope they get here before the Manchus do.\"\n\n\"What are you talking about, you blind fuck? I'm right here,\" a prominently-cheeked private from Inner Mongolia replied, smirking. More snickering.\n\n\"Shut up!\" barked a voice behind them, and all fell silent. \"Keep your eyes on the horizon,\" ordered Captain Zhang's gruff voice. A few dared to sneak a glance and saw that the meeting of officers had adjourned and the captain was pacing the length of the walkway with a transceiver in his hand. His rough, weathered face scrunched up and his lips were shaped in a scowl.\n\nAfter several minutes, even the joking Sichuanese private had lost his mirth and now stared ahead at the plain with abysmal with worry, glancing from time to time to his neighbors. \"Doesn't it bother anyone,\" he asked, his voice at a hush, \"that we are standing on a fortification that has not seen military use since Ming Dynasty?\"\n\n\"The Nationalists fought the Japs here in the Anti-Japanese War,\" another soldier pointed out.\n\n\"Sure,\" the Sichuanese acquiesced, \"but my point is, why now? What enemy does Central have in mind for us? What kind of enemy would we possibly defend *Zhong-Guo* from?\"\n\n\"Maybe the Jap-devils have come back as actual devils to haunt us,\" jested the Mongol. More chuckling. *Riben guizi*, Jap-devil, was a common Chinese epithet for their neighbors across the sea, historically or otherwise. \"In all seriousness, we'll probably soon find out. The officers seemed very -- \"\n\n\"Enemy spotted!\" arose the cry, echoed down the wall. Every soldier turned and squinted forward; a mass of brown bodies could be seen approaching rapidly from the north, kicking a dust cloud behind them. The sheer size of the invading horde was shocking, jaws dropped and panicked, worried yells sounded. The plain was absolutely filling up with those brown things -- human bodies, the soldiers realized with awe.\n\n\"The fuck is this, Nurhaci and the goddamn Manchus?! *Tamade*, this shit -- \"\n\n\"Stay calm!\" the Captain yelled, reordering the lines. \"Contact has been made with the enemy, preparing to engage!\" he shouted into the transceiver.\n\n***\n\nCaptain Zhang was not a man to dream of wild stories or read books. He grew up as the son of a Shaanxi farmer and army veteran. Like the rest of the down-to-earth, honest good folk of the countryside, he worked the fields and saw little interest in learning or reading. He hailed from a military family and even as men were seeking their fortunes as businessmen and urban laborers in the great economic *Kaifang* of the 80s, he dropped out of college and joined the People's Liberation Army. Captain Zhang believed in the Party leadership; he was a conservative, simple-minded man. So when he heard that corpses were becoming alive and attacking major cities in the north, he thought his superiors had gone insane. Stationed here in the middle of nowhere, on a relic of military history, he was to meet this fantastical host of apparent undead.\n\nAnd they came, slowly but menacingly, for they were numerous and Zhang was unsure if their ammunition was enough for this onslaught. Soon, they would be close enough...\n\n\"Soldiers, comrades. Remember that you are the heirs to a civilization boasting of five thousand years of history. You are the guardians to the Celestial Empire, the Middle Kingdom. You hold the fate of civilization in your hands. You are its gatekeeper -- and you shall not let them pass!\" he shouted, much to the cheering of his men. \"*Kai-huo!*\"\n\nAt the call, two hundred assault rifles of the highest caliber opened fire. A firestorm of bullets rained down on the approaching horde, decimating its front ranks, but more and more of the unnatural kind shambled forward to replace the fallen. Captain Zhang called for artillery and airstrikes; it was, perhaps, possible to hold back the inhuman enemy long enough for reinforcements to arrive...", "They called it the Black War. It was the war we never saw coming. It was the war without enemies or allies, at least not clear ones. The war was fought with words and ideologies. It was to win people's minds. It was the war between freedom and fear. It was the war over thought.\n\nWe didn't know who the terrorists were. We didn't know if there were any terrorists to begin with, or if our governments were leading us on a wild goose chase. We didn't know why the terrorists were here, or why we were fighting them, but we couldn't let them take it. We couldn't let it fall.\n\nThe Eiffel Tower, the Taj Mahal, Mount Rushmore, the Statue of Liberty... all gone... all fallen. The Great Wall was all that was left. If the Great Wall Fell, then people would lose all hope.\n\nWe were the Peacekeepers, but as the weeks passed, stationed on the wall, we began to ask, were we keeping the peace? Was this the war we should be fighting? Was this all exaggeration? Was this all just another tool of fear used by authority to keep their control?\n\nNo. The answer was worse. Much worse. There was no authority left. A monster was created and released. No one was in control. Fear had won the war, and we haven't even fired a bullet.", "As it turned out Attack on Titan was on to something. \n\nAbout the walls, I mean. There are no weird giant cannibal humans eating people. No cannons or mutant humans or anything. Just batshit weird aliens and their strange methods of war. \n\nThey came hurtling down in what looked like teardrops. They would land in the ocean, then swim with terrifying speed to the costs to slaughter the costal cities. Weird as these aliens were, they were vicious and deadly and worst of all, terrifyingly clever and brilliant birds of war. They held no remorse, took no prisoners. They didn't even ransack the cities and towns. They just destroyed them. They'd place something in the bodies of the deceased, and in a few days small creatures would devour the captured cities and make haste towards the oceans and lakes. \n\nIslands like Hawaii, Japan, Taiwan all fell first. The outer fifty miles of the US, and much of Europe was taken. The Koreas, barely working together, put up quite a fight, but eventually they, too, fell.\n\nHoping we could hold them off in Asia and what was left of Europe, what was left of humanity was ushered into Russia, then China as they started approaching from the Arctic ocean and worked their way south.\n\nOddly enough, the Great Wall of China is what saved us. Once we closed the gates, humanity was safe, we figured. At least until they climbed the wall. But they didn't. They never did. Never made ladders, never tried to even make living ladders. They just bunched at the bottom like a group of blind, moronic ants, which we knew they were not. \n\nSo we captured one. Paralyzed it, brought it into repurposed hospitals for dissection. It was also the only time anybody actually got to see one up close, being so fast that if you were close enough you were already dead. Bodycams aren't good enough to capture them\n\nThey're odd, beetle-like creatures, with vaguely human torsos. Their bodies were varying shades of green, brown and occasional orange. Their legs were blunt and thick, claws at the end of their too-long arms thin and razor sharp, seeming to fit into a shovel-like appendage with the hand flat. But none of this indicated why they wouldn't even attempt to climb the walls, or why they bunched up like ants at the base.\n\nWe did some digging in their brains. Turns out their eyes are completely useless- they see with scents, the wind, the magnetic field of the planet. Their brains are being fed information from the eyes, but it's ignored. We did not determine why. But we did more analysis. I don't know the particulars, but from what I know, and I'm probably horribly mangaling this, the concept of something being above them in the literal sense is foreign to them. Slopes or metal walls or wood walls, sure, something atop the wall, yeah why not. Something on the other side of thick stone walls? They don't understand it or something, I don't know. I'm an engineer, not a neuroscientist.\n\nWe did enough dissecting and digging to finally be able to simulate its behaviour with software. We set about designing vehicles that would be able to safely leave the walls and head outwards, to fight and build walls around major mines, factories, anything to sustain the population crammed within the Great Wall. In the end, the design ended up being a giant, ugly cube with wheels. Like a heavily armored, low-riding bus. \n\nWithing months the living conditions in the wall improved, as we started digging down, reclaiming land used for factories and farming for living space. We outsourced all food growth, manufacturing, research to smaller Wall Compounds outside the land. We built two-lane high-speed railroads to travel between them all.\n\nI don't know where I was going with this and I'm not happy with it, but whatever. " ]

[ 1, 2, 2 ]

[ "1419744642", "1419728664", "1419751862" ]

[ "Everyone downvotes each other because we're a bunch of greedy bitches. The end.", "You awake to find yourself in an empty room. It is stark white and stretches endlessly in all directions. From your left, you can just barely make out the sounds of laughter. You here joyful banter and cheering. You run in the direction of the noises but never seem to get closer. As you stop to rest, you begin to hear other noises from your right. Sounds of anger and frustration, foul words and cries. You run away, still following the laughter but to no avail. After sitting for some time in quiet contemplation, you begin walking towards the horrible sounds. They too never materialize. You run and run in all directions, but nothing is there. You yell and scream but no one seems to hear. You spent too many years lurking on reddit, and now you are doomed to it for eternity." ]

[ 1, 1 ]

[ "1419733410", "1419791160" ]

[ "The sky had always been full of dragons and winged beasts, and so man hid deep inside their bunkers of grey stone and rock. Yet not even three foot of their hardest stone could hold against the terrors lurking in the ground. Nights were the sounds of rumbling tremors as the ancient beings of old woke from their slumber, where a single twist or turn of these creatures could bring the ceiling crashing down upon them.\n\nAnd it was a world where even sleep would not bring rest. Blue knew this well, as his dreams were devoured every night by a horrific bipedal beast – yellow snout, slanted eyes, two yellow hands with three (maybe four, Blue was not quite sure) fingers that could so easily pluck a child from his peaceful slumber.\n\nAnd so Blue had had enough. An old book, recovered from his father’s many trips to the world outside, spoke of something impossibly strong. Here it was written that the being was not legendary…but the acts it had committed were of legends.\n\nBlue did not understand what the line meant. But then again, he did not need to.\n\nThe door to the bunker opened into the night. Lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the sky. There, behind the clouds, was a long slithering body and four golden strings of light trailing behinds its large head.\nBlue had once been scared of the dragon. He would be no longer.\n\nIt was dark outside the bunker. Just a week ago, it had been adorned with living lamps floating outside. Waiting. Always waiting. Yesterday, his father breathed his last. And so the floating lamps were no more.\n\nThere was nothing to hold him back now. His father’s scarf wrapped around his neck, Blue set off on his journey.\n\n----\n\nBlue found the legendary weapon in a very weird ‘bunker’. He called it a bunker because it was all he knew. But this bunker had more than one storey, and he had to break through the door to get in. His feet (wrapped in leaves) scraped the cold floor. There was a mark here…it looked like a circle with another circle inside it. The top was red. The bottom was white.\n\nBlue checked his book. And so it was the same.\n\nIn the backroom, there were a plethora of weird balls. One of these would be the weapon.\n\n----\n\nThe tremors, the lightning, the soul eaters and the nightmares, all would stop. All would be no more.\n\nBlue set off into the caves of Terra. Deep within, was the beast of the land. Its head was covered with four separate plates of red armor. Its claws were numerous, thick and round and immaculately shaped for tunneling and battle.\n\nBut Blue was not scared, for he had the weapon at last. Simple, really.\n\nHe threw the ball at the ground and it opened. Light poured from within.\n\nSomething…something was on the ground. A clump of matted yellow fur.\n\n“Pi…ka…*cough* *cough*…chu^u^u^u…”\n\nRegardless of the weapon’s age, Groudon is immune to electric. \n\nIt had no effect.\n\n---\n\nNote: I have only played Pokemon First Gen. The main ones referenced in the story are Drowzee (Pokedex Entry: It remembers every dream it eats. It rarely eats the dreams of adults because children's are much tastier.) and Lampent (The spirits it absorbs fuel its baleful fire. It hangs around hospitals waiting for people to pass on.)", "I couldn't believe my eyes. It was glorious. All these years of searching, and I finally had the Staff of Acute Madness. It pulsed with power, sitting framed in an alcove just off the end of the main cavern. I found myself overwhelmed with emotion. All those nights sleeping in the mud and rain, the weeks battling ogres and goblins in the depths of the Moronian Mines, and the years away from my family had all been worth it to find this, the key to the downfall of the corrupt kingdom of Thornaron.\n\nI walked up the steps to the altar where it lay, gleaming under the sunlight that streamed through an opening just above it. I gingerly picked up the staff, fearful that I might break it after all these years. Its wood was surprisingly cool to touch, smooth and weathered, solid yet light. I lifted it high above my head in triumph.\n\n\"AHA!\" My cry echoed around the cavern.\n\nAnd then came the rumbling.\n\n*Not again!*\n\nUp from the earth arose a giant goblin, fierce and fiery in the dim cave. His head almost reached the roof that towered above us. It roared, shaking the earth around me. Inside, I felt a sense of elation. Ordinarily, I would have run - but now, I had the most powerful weapon ever created in my grasp. \n\nI tightened my grip, and ran down the stairs onto the cavern floor. The beast awaited me there. I charged forward, a grin on my face, thrust the staff towards my foe, and shouted *\"Kirrawar! Loth Hect!*\n\nThere was a crack of thunder as the staff's fury was unleashed. I had summoned its might, and it was responding! The earth rumbled, the walls shook, and A HAIL OF BUNNIES DESCENDED UPON THE FLOOR!\n\nWait... what?\n\nI stared in horror as a horde of fluffy white terror sat quietly on the cavern floor, looking back at me.\n\nI must have said something wrong, I reasoned. The goblin was equally confused as he scooped up a bunny and scratched it with his finger. I reset my focus and screamed again. *\"Kriniwag! Long Tith!*\n\nAgain, a peal of thunder, and a hail of baby squirrels descended from the heavens. It was then that I realised my horrible mistake. This wasn't the Staff of Acute Madness... it was the Staff of Mad Cuteness!\n\nI ran away, cursing my luck, as the goblin stood there distracted by the cuteness on display.\n\nAnd believe me, I never undertook a quest based on the recommendation of a hard-of-hearing magician again.", "Legends told of a powerful toothbrush which gives its user teeth worthy of kings. Many did not even believe it was real, but Harold had faith, and today his faith paid off.\n\nHarold stared- after nine long years of dedicating his life to finding the toothbrush, he had finally found it. He smiled- his protruding teeth and bad breath made the very air quiver.\n\nThe toothbrush was old- however. It had been lost for almost a thousand years. A few bristles which still remained shook unsteadily in the wind. It was dirty, too- spots of mud and dirt clung on, and it smelled of fecal matter. Harold did not care. It was the power of the toothbrush- not the physical state he was after. It would work. It had to.\n\nHarold carefully placed the toothbrush on his lips, and brushed. He felt a tingling sensation, then a sharp pain caused him to black out.\n\nHarold awoke in a dentist chair. “I’m sorry, sir.” The dentist said. “But you better brace yourself.”\n\n“What happened?” Harold asked in alarm.\n\n“I’m afraid,” The dentist replied, “that you’re gunna need some… crowning.”" ]

[ 4, 4, 6 ]

[ "1419765534", "1419766074", "1419754705" ]

[ "The stained glass lamp hung over the table, the polyurethane coating glinting as if the sections were still wet. My grandfather folded his newspaper, turning the large, fragile page and yawning his special yawn, his throat rattling with the passage of air from the smoke and subsequent radiation it faced.\n\nI know that time is seeping out, so slow, so precious. I almost fear him, so ancient, so respected. He is my shrunken hero, he is our patriarch. He is my role model, he is our oldest member. The urge to preserve takes over.\n\n\"Grandpep, will you talk about what it was like, before Dad was born?\" For a moment, I thought he did not hear me. He cleared his throat and kept reading. \n\nHe took a sip of water.\n\nHe closed the paper.\n\nHe put away his glasses.\n\n\"When my family moved from New York, it was the hardest year there. I didn't know, I was young, my father worked in construction, we lived with my uncle, a dentist.\" His eyes looked far off, blue like weathered sea glass, rimmed in dark navy from age.\n\n\"My uncle needed help with the rent, and after the crash, my father needed a job. Then things got worse in the city. The hurricane hit.\" He took another sip of water.\n\n\"What year was it?\" \n\n\"I might have been around nine or ten. I don't remember. But anyways, then we moved to outside Pittsburgh, my father, mother, Nancy, and I. We, me and Nancy, got a little Asus tablet for Christmas that year, we had to take turns. I remember I used to take it and lock myself in the bathroom for hours and just scroll and scroll. Nancy never did anything with it. She just took selfies, girl stuff, maybe she went on Pinterest. I didn't care.\" His gravely voice scraped my ears and the neat kitchen nook's paneling. It crackled loud, gurgling, and humming, like a thunderstorm that makes creeks into little rivers that ruin their banks. \n\n\"That was when the tensions were really building, of course. I was a proud Redditor, lurking with an account, upvoting where I saw fit. None of us knew what we were doing. I was young, younger than most of them, and most of them were just over twenty, long dead now.\"\n\n\"What was your username?\" The curiosity came from my throat and interrupted him. He looked surprised. \n\n\"I can't say I remember.\" He looked at me thoughtfully, then he winked. \"But even if I did, I wouldn't tell you.\" We shared a moment of humor, smiling with the same dimples on our left cheeks.\n\n\"Where was I?\" He paused, \"Oh yes. Back then, the internet was spontaneous. Anyone in the world could do anything. You could be anyone because nobody knew you, and nobody could prove a darned thing. Then everything went to hell.\"\n\n\"This was the reformation like in school, right?\"\n\n\"I guess that's what they call it. It was after the NSA leak, then Snowden's 'accident'.\" His left hand, his only working hand, the other too arthritic to even hold a mouse, rose and formed air quotation marks. \n\n\"There was so much fuel for social commentary and everything was changing so fast. It seemed like everywhere, everyone was smoking pot, coming out, and ripping on each other for it. It was crazy, but the comics were clever, the celebrities nude and leaked, and the memes classic. It was too good to last.\" He sighed. \n\n\"We were so busy ripping on each other for borrowing content, we didn't realize.\" \n\n\"When /r/Funny, you know how subreddits used to work, right?\" He didn't stop for me to answer. \"When it was shut down, that's when it really started. It was because one pop star, you're too young to remember her, Beyoncé, she sued the site for slander, and everything went to hell.\" \n\n\"Think of all those people, thousands of people left to find something else to browse. I remember, I was heartbroken.\" He paused, his old eyes glinting with tears. \"But you know how it goes, the worst of humanity kicks hardest when their targets are down.\"\n\nThe sun had risen outside. My grandmother was stirring in their bedroom at the end of their hall. I could hear her making the bed in her slow, methodical movements.\n\n\"That was what 4chan did. They saw us at our weakest and thought it would be funny to take us down completely. They started making troll subreddits. /r/CuteFemaleCorpses, for example.\" I cringed.\n\n\"Then we fought back. But not before 9Gag's migration.\" \n\nWith another sip of water and a yawn, and my grandfather was off again. \"At the time, Beyoncé wasn't just suing us. She was suing about twenty-eight different URLs from BroMyGod to imgur. 9Gag was one of them. Most of their content was just stuff from /r/Funny, but with more captions and a few memes. They thought it was our fault that they were getting sued, so they invaded. Most of them were determined to troll, immediately shadowbanned and too stupid to realize it. Others were a little more clever, making throwaway accounts left and right. They would hold down a single key for God knows how long and comment. At first, it was so strange that we bought them gold and upvoted them. Then entire threads were lost.\" He looked away. \"We got angry.\"\n\n\"Before our mods could come up with a solution, people who didn't understand what was going on started noticing how heated things were getting. Nancy Grace was one of them; she was a woman who had a television show that would use fear for ratings. She wanted to put all the 'good' websites on a server, and delete all the others. Her idea quickly started trending as #NoahsNet, like that bible story of Noah and all the animals on the ark. Then the government noticed.\"\n\nMy grandmother entered the kitchen. She smiled with her wrinkly mouth. \"Good morning Jennifer, would you like some silver dollar pancakes for breakfast?\" \n\nI greeted her and got down the griddle from the shelf she couldn't reach. The batter spit and sizzled on the searing black surface.\n\nMy grandfather took his pills from an organiser the size of the current iPhone mega. He got up to put in his teeth. \n\n\"You always gotta remember your teeth. You remember your teeth?\" He asked me. I nodded.\n\n\"What happened after the government noticed?\" My grandmother ripped open a package of bacon.\n\n\"That's how we all got Tumblr accounts.\" I nodded and he sighed again. \"Speaking of Tumblr,\" He brightened, \"Why aren't you following me?\"", "9gag: lol xd\n\nReddit: Yes, let's start this conversation this way.\n\n9gag: Just kidin.\n\n4chan: >kidin.\n\nReddit: I already regret inviting 9gag.\n\n4chan: I already regret inviting Reddit.\n\nReddit: You didn't invite anyone!\n\n4chan: I invited myself. I am too important as that I'm ignored. Look at who you invited.\n\nTumblr: Hello!\n\n4chan: If you even dare to get all SJW, I fuck-\n\nReddit: We're not here to insult each other.\n\n4chan: You're waifu a shit.\n\nReddit: Wha- I don't even have a waifu.\n\nTumblr: What's a waifu?\n\n4chan: The one woman you'll ever have and love.\n\nReddit: Basically, you treat an anime character like an actual person and want to be with her\n\nTumblr: That's sexist.\n\nReddit: I don't care anyway, but this is not the topic. 4chan, don't derail this.\n\n4chan: Kirino is a miracle of the universe.\n\n4chan: Yuki, too.\n\nReddit: Can we get someone not from /a/?\n\n4chan: Yes, of course. Excuse him.\n\nReddit: Good. So, the topic: Where does content come from?\n\n4chan: I can tell from who it doesn't come from: the jews. \n\n9gag: lol, xd\n\nTumblr: That's racist\n\nWikipedia: Technically content comes from whoever uploaded said content to the server it is downloaded from. Due to the internet decentralized structure, it is very hard to pinpoint a certain content was first uploaded from.\n\nReddit: That's exactly what we're discussing here.\n\nImgur: Well, obviously from us.\n\n4chan: I refuse to believe imgur has a commmunity. It's only a image hoster.\n\nReddit: He is right in a certain way. Most content is saved on his servers.\n\n9gag: He is right in a certain way. Most content is saved on my servers.\n\nReddit: Shut up.\n\n4chan: So, the content must come from me then.\n\nReddit: That's not entirely sure. There is plenty of content that was hosted by us first\n\n4chan: You're a link aggregator. Nothing is hosted by you.\n\nReddit: That's why we have imgur.\n\nTumblr: What about us?\n\n4chan: All you bring is wannabe-feminists and gay porn.\n\nTumblr: That's not true!\n\n9gag: Maybe we must refine our question: Not to where content comes from, but from where content originated. Should this include the internet or not? How long should we go back in time? Should we classify by type - audio, visual etc.-? Should we search for the origins how they were created or how they were shared? Should we classify by country, continent and enthic groups. I think that before we can solve a debate, we must answer the important question that is to be solved in that debate.\n\nReddit: ...\n\nTumblr: ,,,\n\n4chan: faggot\n\n---\n\nNot a real clash, but I thought this would be funnier. I also made them more the sites themself as the users, but it works either way.\n\n\n\n" ]

[ 3, 30 ]

[ "1419801964", "1419790932" ]

[ "Holy fuck, you get my upvote for making me laugg my ass off with the mental image of your prompt alone. ", "[I think this falls under the EU tag.]\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"So, what exactly is ehh, is this thing?\" A proud American engineer knocks on the dirty, grey iron of the giant machine.\n\nSparks and flames came from the tesla coils of the Goliath's back as the aqua screen of its head lit up.\n\n\"*I am Liberty Prime, fellow citizen! Now do your duty and grease my feet!*\" said a deep, robotic voice.\n\nThe engineer jumped back, surprised by the noise. \"Sweet jesus! This thing can talk?!\"\n\n\"Get back to worth, Li. We're running short on schedule!\" said a tall, uniformed man in the back of the room. \"The army expects him to be ready to charge the beachhead in two hours!\"\n\n\"English iron isn't good for maintaining this thing, Eisenhower, sir!\" the engineer cried back to the commander. \"It'll work, but not as well as we hoped!\"\n\n\"Just hurry it up! Would ya?!\"\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"Haul 'em in! Let's go men, go!\" shouted a fellow on one of the freighters approaching Normandy.\"\n\n\"*Nazi scum will bow their arms before the might of America!*\" Liberty's voice patriotically declared from the inside of a huge crate.\n\n\"That's the spirit, bot!\" said the fella as he broadcasted to the microphone at the deck of the ship. \n\n\"Ok boys! Unload Prime and let's see some explosions! We've got forty bucks on the pot that says Hitler's only testicle will be torn up by tomorrow! Anyone wants to join in, just talk to Adam in the bunkers!\"\n\nThe short little announcement was met with the hearty pumping of chests and a roar of laughter from the crewman. Gunshots were heard from a distance as bullets brushed against the hull. The men started to march to their armory before they had remembered to unload Liberty.\n\nOnce free, the bot jumped off from the ship and readied itself for battle.\n\n\"*American democracy will not fall against Jew-murdering monsters, foul Nazis! Death to all swastika wearing pigs!*\" \n\nIts eyeplate lit up a bright cyan as the ticking of a clock started. The light grew brighter and brighter until, boom! A laser beam, straight out of science fiction, shot right through Prime's eyes, burning up the white sand of Normandy.\n\nAs Prime approached Normandy, the German army scrambled in immediate retreat. Those who survived being stomped and pounded by the foot of Liberty saw themselves vaporized by Prime's energy beams.\n\n\"*Death! Fiery death to all who oppose the American spirit of freedom!*\"\n\nIts patriotic words filled the hearts of the Allies as they charged into battle, abandoning their sub-human European and Canadian allegiances for the grand flag of America!\n\nAll of a sudden, a bold Panzer fired a round at Prime's arm. Like an eagle swooping down on trout, it was ripped clean off his arm and all turned silent. British iron had failed to save the right hand of Liberty, as it was always inferior to American steel.\n\nThe Allies gasped as the Nazis suddenly turned to believe that they stood a change against the stunned allies. Tears dripped from the eyes of a young, naive Canadian soldier as he dropped to his knees besides liberty. Dress-wearing Englishman played their bagpipes in mourning of the freedom-bringing bot's hand. The day looked dark and the invasion was set to fail...\n\nWhen all of a sudden, Liberty rushed right up to the small, Axis tank and kicked it right into a fortification on the beachhead's cliff! German curses and screams filled the air as one-by-one, their forces were set ablaze by the awesome might of Liberty Prime, a proud American creation.\n\n\"*In America, we call this soccer! Soon, you will as well!*\"\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"Extra, extra, read all about it! Liberty Prime defeats Nazi Germany and Hitler's paste! Buy a newspaper to find out when he's due back! A once in a lifetime opportunity to see Freedom's Warrior in person!\" A newspaper salesman announced on September 2nd, 1945.\n\nOf course, nobody reads the newspaper in America! They are too busy drinking! Holding cookouts! All in the spirit of freedom! Just as how Liberty Prime wants it! For America!\n" ]

[ 2, 6 ]

[ "1422421103", "1419812856" ]

[ "Miss Katie Sassoon walked up to the door of her shop and stared out the glass windows of the millinery and dry goods store. It was a perfect spring day, the temperature in the low sixties, with only a few scattered clouds in the sky. Children ran barefoot through paved stone street, one guiding a barrel hoop down the road with a stick. The streets and sidewalks had on them a fair number of people, couples strolling along leisurely while those alone went at a slightly faster clip. Several men lounged about on the stoop of the barbershop across the street, smoking pipes and conversing amongst themselves. A cloud of smoke hung in the air about them, slowly wafted away by the gentle breeze. The Silver Stag Tavern four buildings east of the barber's was doing brisk business, several wooden tables and chairs being brought out into the street to manage overflow. Horses were tied out front to the hitching posts that lined the wide street, or else were stabled at the livery owned by the Adler family at block and a half north-west. The Silver Stag was the closest competitor to the Gilded Lion a half-mile south of the main village of South Lyon. While the Stag mainly served those who lived in the actual village, the Lion was frequented by more of the farming community, lending an unofficial division to the two. Each was perfectly fine.\n\nKatie Sassoon turned around to face the rest of the shop, the skirt of her green petticoat swirling with her as she did so. Facing the lone man sitting at the countertop, she spoke, her smooth Midlander accent calm and perhaps slightly distant. \n\n\"I believe I will go on a walk, Uncle. If any asks for me, would you please tell them I'll be back by two?\"\n\nThe older man dressed in a grey coat and red vest smiled amiably. His balding head reflected the bright morning light off of his pate. The sight caused his twenty year old niece to smile reflexively as well. Her Uncle Walter took his gradual loss of hair in good stride, remarking on the time he saved combing his hair in the morning. \n\n\"Of course, my dear. I would be my pleasure. Where would you be off to? The Ladies' Club?\"\n\nThe young women shook her head, walking over to the stand where her straw hat hung. Placing the wide brim over her head, she tied the silk ribbon under chin. \n\n\n\"Perhaps afterwards, Uncle. But I think I will go to the temple first.\"\n\n\"Very well, dove. While you're there, tell Father Micheal I say hello, and ask him if he is still good for tomorrow's board game night. Enjoy yourself. Katherine.\"\n\nShe turned the handle to the store and opened the door, letting the fresh spring air blow past her skirts.\n\n\"Of course, I'll be back in few hours. Goodbye.\"", "\"OH SHIIIIIIIIIIIIII... Wait, what!? How are we not dead?\"\n\n\"I don't know bro... It just stopped....\"\n\nWe, me and my best friend, Eric, were in Eric's car going to his parent's house for his mom's birthday, when the car started spinning out. It was snowing, the roads were icy, and Eric saw a stray dog on the road.... We started spinning out, heading toward the edge of the bridge. Then we stopped.\n\n\"Well this is an exciting morning.\" It was 8 am, and I just woke up from sleeping in the car.\n\n\"Yeah, bro, I know right! Let's go see what happened.\" Eric quickly took a step out of the car... too fast... he started falling, sliding towards the edge of the bridge.\n\n\"Eric, hold on!\" I screamed as I jumped out of the car to stop him. I fell also, sliding to the edge... life flashing before my eyes. Then I stopped. Just like the car. Suddenly, I felt my face be slapped by a mysterious force. I looked up and saw people... large people.... They grabbed me and pulled me away from the edge of the bridge. Each of them had guns, large guns....\n\n\"I really need my coffee,\" I mumbled as they threw me next to Eric on the trunk of the car.", "Only one of the overhead bulbs flickered, and the corner tiles remained in shadows, but it was enough light for me to notice the pupils; pupils engulfed my eyes, filled to the brim with black. Dark circles were painted underneath the eyes themselves. The closer I stepped towards myself, the more wrinkled I became. It was as if time was killing me more efficiently than ever. I only took one hit. Had I always worn such hideous features? I fell to the cold tile, praying for the comedown. My palms had never appealed to me so much in my life. I covered my face and wept into them. Even behind closed eyelids I saw harsh colors. I couldn't put a name to a single one, but they were harsh in tone and intention. I prayed. I hadn't prayed in decades. A box fell to the floor and I wiped the salt from my face to see a pack of smokes. Newports. My weak fingers scrambled on a mission to tear it open and get a puff. Only one left; and upside down too. I put the filter to my lips and closed my eyes. Smoke was a pleasant surprise. The colors dissipated with the smoke. My eyes flashed open to a woman holding the lighter to my grit. She was beautiful, as was my demise.", "The opening strains of some shitty early nineties metal song startled Pete, and he reached over to change the station.\n\n\n*Jesus, I almost fell asleep. Just have to make it another ten minutes or so. I can do that.*\n\n\nHis biceps ached and his back was worse. The blue button-down he'd worn to work this morning lay balled up and forgotten in the passenger seat; his once-white undershirt was caked in dirt and soaked through with sweat. The next ten minutes were a challenge, and only luck kept him from attracting the attention of a roving highway patrolman. \n\n\nHe made it, though. The garage door rolled shut behind him and Pete was left in silence. After a minute the automatic light on the garage door shut off and there was darkness, too. Alone, then, Pete allowed himself a heavy sigh. It carried with it the weight of his day, and it was too substantial a presence to share the cab. He opened the door and the automatic light switched back on. \n\n\nThe washing machine sat beside the door leading to the kitchen. Pete stripped his sodden clothes and threw them in the trash. The folding shovel from his trunk went with them.\n\n\nEvery light in the house burned brightly. The dining room table lay on its side and chairs were scattered between that room and the living room; Pete was unconcerned. He righted a chair that was within arm's reach as he headed to the bathroom but ignored the rest; he would shower before he tidied up.\n\n\nThe water was hot and his skin a mottled red, but Pete wasn't bothered. He hummed to himself as he cleaned under each fingernail. The humming helped him to remember.\n\n\n*Kitchen table, chairs, dinnerware. Blood on the floor.*\n\n\nHe'd be sure to clean thoroughly. He'd done it before. First, though, he needed to be clean. After the shower he'd brush and floss, then shave. His regular morning routine.", "Did this on mobile, sorry for any formatting issues.\n\nThe sunlight crept through the blinds, shining on the floor of Ted's apartment. *I guess it's about time I get up*, Ted thought. Ted hadn't been sleeping all that well lately. In fact he didn't sleep at all the previous night. I*t'll probably work itself out,* he told himself.\n\nTed made his way to the kitchen. *Perhaps a nice breakfast will set me straight*, he thought. He went to one of his overhead cabinets and pulled out his cheap frying pan. Turning on the stove, he placed the pan on the burner. *Wobbly*, Ted noticed. *Don't remember that. Maybe I should get a new pan soon*. He went to the fridge and pulled out two eggs and some cheese. With the pan now hot, Ted cracked the eggs on the side of the counter and dropped them into the pan. *Damn, dropped the shell in there. I never drop the shell*. Ted carefully reached in and pulled the shells out, throwing them into the trash. Not discouraged, Ted plated his eggs, grated some cheese over them and enjoyed his breakfast.\n\nAfter he cleaned up, Ted made his way to the bathroom. He fumbled around the bathroom wall looking for the lightswitch, found it and flicked it on. *Huh*, he thought, *I never get it on the first try. I always hit the fan's switch first*. Without a second thought, Ted went to the sink. He sipped his mouthwash, swashed it around, and spat. Then he grabbed his toothbrush, pressed on some toothpaste, and brushed. Back, forth, up, down....wait. Ted found this odd. *I'm supposed to brush before I rinse. Why did I do that? Clumsy*. Ted chalked it up to his sleep deprived state, and moved on.\n\nAlready running a little late for work, Ted got dressed quickly and left his apartment. Halfway down the stairs, Ted remembered, *Oh, I need to lock my door!* Rushing back up to his door, he pushed on his handle to find it wouldn't budge. *Hmm. Landlord must've gotten new auto-locks installed. A warning would've been nice*. Now slightly annoyed, he made his way to the bottom of the stairs and left the building.\n\nTed walked to the bus stop. He arrived and waited behind a very tall man, wearing all black. Black shoes, black pants, black shirt, black sunglasses. The only thing that wasn't black was the man's hair, which was grey with age, presumably. *Haven't seen him before*, Ted thought. Ted gave the man a quick smile, as to not be rude. The man seemed to either not notice or care. \n\nWithin the next few minutes, other, more familiar people began to the stop: an attractive young blonde Ted never plucked up the courage to talk to; a grumpy old lady that for whatever always seemed to shoot Ted the dirtiest looks. Ted glanced at his watch. 2 minutes until the bus came. Now 1. The bus should be here now. Now it's a minute late. *The bus is never late*, Ted worried, *where could it be?* He also began to notice how quiet it was beginning to get. No cars, no birds, not even any wind. Ted glanced at the other people, but no one seemed to share his concern. *I'm probably overreacting*. Yet the bus never came. Not after 2 minutes, or 5 or 10. Frustrated, Ted turned to the old bitter lady and asked,\n\n\"Do you have any idea where the bus could be?\"\n\nNo response. \n\n*Right. Should've expected that from her*, Ted thought. He turned to a young man, probably ex military since the crew cut and muscular build hinted at such, and asked again,\n\n\"Hey man, you hear anything about the bus being delayed?\"\n\nAgain, no response.\n\nTed, confused and now more than a little annoyed, seceded trying to get answers and continued to wait in silence. That is, until he heard a stern but soft voice speak up.\n\n\"They can't hear you,\" said the voice. \"In fact, no one can.\"\n\n\"I...I'm sorry?\" Ted turned around to see the man dressed in all black speaking to him.\n\nThe man repeated, \"They can't hear you. Look closer at them and you'll see why.\"\n\nTed, after much hesitation, did just that. He saw the people, perfectly normal, except for the fact that they were completely still. He waved his hand in front of the old lady, and still no response from her. Ted noticed more and more of his surroundings: no people or cars moving, no stoplights flashing, and strangest of all birds frozen in mid flight.\n\nTed turned to the mysterious man, the only thing still moving, and asked, \"Wh...what's going on?\"\n\n\"It's simple really. I've stopped time.\" The man replied.\n\nTed stared at the man. \"Stopped...time?\"\n\nThe man grinned. \"Correct! I'm glad you caught on so quickly. It took the others much longer to come to terms.\"\n\nTed continued to stare. \"Wait. Stopped...time?\"\n\nThe man dropped his smile. \"Oh dear. Maybe you haven't caught on yet. I guess we do this the long way. Follow me.\" The man turned on his heal and began to walk down the road.\n\nTed stood still. \"Follow you...where exactly? And why?\" \n\nThe man in black stopped and turned back towards Ted. He asked Ted, \"Have you noticed things a little off, today? Maybe your coffee too cold or your eggs too cooked? That's because there's an imbalance, my boy. A great imbalance in the world. And we believe you can help restore that balance.\"\n\nNot in the slightest bit convinced, Ted remained standing still. \"I think I'm going to need more than that to explain what's going on here,\" he said.\n\nThe man said \"Of course, my boy! If you come with me, all will be answered! Besides, what else do you have to do? Catch a bus? Trust me, they,\" the man nodded towards the crowd at the bus stop, \"won't even know you're gone.\" The man turned again and continued to head down the road.\n\nTed thought hard about this, weighing the pros and cons of the situation. He finally came to the conclusion that he had no better chance for answers than to follow this man. He had to fix this 'frozen time' somehow, and this man seemed to be the only one who knew anything. Besides, it was about time for an adventure.", "I walk down the dimly lit streets with great haste, I have made the fatal mistake of staying out too late. Ever since the war of German aggression ended and the rise of the fascist American Protection Corps it was impossible to walk the night without being harassed by those pigs. Every day there is a news report of an innocent man being beaten down and branded with the swastika as a message that the streets we walk on is theirs. As I continue walking I begin to feel a sense of dread as I begin to notice a group of shadows behind me. I barely begin to run when I am violently grabbed by my shoulder and pushed down. I attempt to crawl away when my assailants start kicking and stomping down on me like I was a football. The beating goes on as they call me names like \"Nigger lover\" and \"Jew Swine\" while spitting on me. After they have thoroughly beaten me down, they strip me of my shirt and begin to carve the Nazi swastika on me chest. Once they are done they all spit at me and kick me one more time before running back into the darkness of the night. I knew I had made a mistake by treading the streets at night and I have paid for it with my dignity. ", "Can I talk to you for a second?\n\nGreat, thanks so much. Look, before I start talking, just, well, please don’t think I’m weird.\n\nHa ha yeah I know “don’t think I’m weird” is never the best start to a conversation is it. Heh.\n\nWell, I honestly don’t know how to put this into words. I’ve been feeling really off these last few days. I don’t know what’s going on. \n\nNo, no, not like sick or anything. I feel totally ok in terms of health, at least well, I think everything’s ok. Just, something weirds going on. I’ve tried looking stuff up on the internet but you know what a Google search is like “YOU HAVE BRAIN CANCER” ha ha.\n\nYeah, exactly, you put in, like, dizziness and it comes back BRAIN CANCER. Vomiting - BRAIN CANCER. Pain in left big toe - PROBABLY BRAIN CANCER.\n\nHa ha exactly. \n\nSorry, well I honestly don’t know what’s going on. You know if you get, like, blackout drunk and the night before is just a spattering of memories.\n\nOh, you don’t drink.\n\nNo, it’s cool I’m not judging at all ha ha! Umm well sometimes if I get really on it I might have blind spots from the night before. Like, “hey how did I end up on my sofa with half a tin of dog food and no shoe and wait a second I don’t have a dog!” \n\nYeah it’s pretty common if people get on it too much ha ha.\n\nNo, that’s the thing, I’ve mega cut down on drinking cos I had a bit of a scare with some routine blood tests, so alcohol isn’t even a big deal anymore. But, like, certain blackouts are still happening, and I honestly don’t know what’s going on, it’s sort of freaking me out.\n\nWell, it’s kind of why I’m talking to you now. I mean… I actually don’t know how I got here. Last thing I remember is going home, having a microwave dinner, watching some arrested development and falling asleep. Next thing I know I’m here sat at my desk.\n\nIt’s fucking weird, right? I mean my clothes are clean on today, all ironed. I feel fresh and healthy, well rested, all that shit, but I honestly - hand on heart, have no fucking idea how I even got into work today!\n\nYeah, maybe it is brain cancer ha ha\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nSo, uhhh, you think I should get it checked out?", "The sound was deafening. A constant *thump, thump, thump.* Droning on and on. Besides the noise it was hot. Incredibly hot. Yes, there was a constant downward draft that shot air into the cabin. But it was hot. Incredibly hot. I felt like sticking your head into an oven. I looked out the side door and saw the a few palm trees pass down below. *How can these plants live in this climate?* I repositioned myself so my M60 machine gun rested against my left hand. Holding the long barreled weapon of this weight always puts strain on your trigger hand. I switched to my left to let my other hand rest. That and the black finish on it was incredibly hot baking in the sun.\n\n\nA soldier behind tapped me on the shoulder with a spare headset. I put it on and it barely reduced the noise. I could barely hear the communications between the Sergeant and the pilot. The part I could make out was ‘circle around to the South East and at the first clearing with yellow smoke is the LZ.’ The routine was the same. I cover my 180 degree sector and watch for any targets in the open. But due to the Geneva Convention I can’t shoot until shot at first. But personally I see someone running at the helicopter with a weapon, I’m putting them down. We all got the rescue recovery training. Nobody in their right mind would do that.\n\n\nAs we passed over what trees there were I couldn’t help but think about why the hell I’m here. I was just resting. My platoon just got stuck doing a dumb detail and didn’t get lights out until 2400. Next thing I know I’m being commanded to get dressed and rushed off to the armory. It wasn’t even day break and we’re standing in line for our weapons. Oh, but don’t worry. We are handed MRE’s along the way so at least we get some nutrition. No time to brush or make my bunk. But’s okay, we’ll probably get dumped on it later to make our beds. Going on less than four hours of sleep. I was really hoping we’d get to sleep in and enjoy this weekend like normal people.\n\n\nThe helicopter finally touches down and the view is blinded by the yellow smoke. Or is it pink? It’s hard to tell. It looks like it’s changing colors. A few soldiers jump out before I can get a proper sweep of the area. A few shout out in profanity to cover the area. Some don’t know where the rally point is. I’m fuckin’ pissed because I can’t see shit. It’s also incredibly hot. I’ve already got sweat stains bleeding through my uniform. Out from the smoke pops a dark figure. I turn my weapon toward it in reflex and blast off a few rounds. The figure moves closer and raises its hands up to its face. I fire off a few more rounds and the blanks flash out in a glorious sound of victory. The dark figure turns out to be one of our own. Just a combat camera man. He snaps a few action shots of me and shoots me a thumbs up. He then turns the camera to the exiting soldiers. I think a few of them flex their biceps as they passed. I shake my head in frustration. *Fuckin’ A… Another training exercise. Can’t I just sleep in?* ", "There is something inside me. I can feel it every time I breathe or speak and every time I walk or move. It is strange and hard, just in the center of myself, in my flesh. \n\nSome nights, when I am laying in my bed, if I concentrate hard enough, if I don't close my eyes and I don't think of anything at all, I can hear it moving, inching its way from my chest to my head and then back again. My theory is that it is looking for something. Up and down. Up and down. And then up again. Touching my lungs and heart and brain. And whatever it is, it is looking for, it hasn't found it yet. \n\nIt began about a week ago, in the supermarket, me with a box of eggs in my hands. Then there was the flash of light, yellow and pink, and the sting. Then there was the memory loss and the questions. Why did I throw the eggs to the floor? Why was I crying and beating my chest? But I didn't know how to answer, I had a void in my mind. I couldn't remember what had happened. I saw the worried supermarket attendant and the broken eggs on the floor and I just said that I was okay, that there was nothing to be worried about. And when she turned her back to me, and went away to look for a mop to clean the mess, I ran away and left the store. \n\nI think it is a worm or an insect like being with thousands of little legs. That would explain the stinging and itching that I feel all over my skin. \n\nI haven't eaten or drank water since Tuesday. I also bought a can of poison and I wash my head and my chest with it. I am attacking it from the outside. If I am correct, it will be dead in two more days. \n", "“So what brings you in here today?” the man asked me.\n\n“Well,” I said, “For as long as I can remember, I’ve always followed a strict routine.\n\nAt night, I set three alarms on my phone. One sounds like birds chirping. That’s to ease me from my slumber. The next alarm hums quietly--like the sound of a neighbor mowing his lawn on a lazy Sunday. The final alarm is a blaring klaxon. I hate it, but otherwise I’d never get my ass out of bed.\n\nFuck breakfast. I rip bong a few times and then watch daytime television. Or porn. If I have money, I’ll snort coke. Preferably off of a hooker. If she starts crying, I drive her out to the desert, spray barbecue sauce on that bitch and then drive off, howling at my coyotes. \n\nOr sometimes I stay at home playing Warcraft and sending out phishing emails from my neighbor’s WiFi.\n\nBut today was different.\n\nAfter a strange dream involving a race between the NASDAQ and a Tyrannosaurus Rex covered in feathery heroin-needles, I woke up in the AM. That’s before noon, bitches.\n\nFor some strange reason, I felt like brushing my teeth. Fifteen minutes later, I unearthed a toothbrush from the back of my bathroom drawer. And a rock-hard tube of Colgate.\n\nSo fresh. I felt so fresh and so clean. It was like blowing smoke rings with a menthol. A magical feeling. I brushed vertically. Why had I gotten out of the habit? I brushed horizontally. This was fun. I brushed skizz-skazz. Tee-hee. What a sensation. I brushed the roof of my mouth. It tickled. I laughed. I brushed my tongue. Towards the back of my throat. I gagged. Blaggghhhh!.\n\nFuck that. I threw my toothbrush away. Never doing that shit again.\n\nBut then I felt something.\n\nSomething in the aged chemicals of that Colgate tube had re-ignited my desire for food. Not just calories--the kind you get from a Jack ‘n Coke. But real food. With grease and ketchup and shit.\n\nI microwaved an egg. It didn’t work. ‘Fuck it, my microwave’s old’ I told myself. I decided to get a new one.\n\nI slurped up the remains of the egg. Juicy. I chased it with a wasabi packet. I’m responsible like that.\n\nResponsible. ‘That’s a hell of a word,’ I thought to myself. ‘It has connotations of badassery. And manhood.’\n\nI had never before made that connection. But somehow it seemed right.\n\nI wanted to be responsible. That would be cool as shit.\n\nIt was time for me to get a job.\n\nI looked up some sample resumes on the Google. One looked pretty good to me. That guy had gone to Harvard.\n\nI erased his pansy-ass ‘Kurtis Vonnegut Jr.’ name and typed in my own. ‘J-Cool the Fuckstick’.\n\nI printed that shit out on my neighbor’s home printer. Wirelessly. I got tech skills like that.\n\nAnyway. Unfortunately, owing to a disagreement I’d had with my neighbor last month, all of his printer paper had a full-size color picture of my ass. Printed on best quality.\n\nAnd he hasn’t changed his ink yet, so that’s why my resume’s a little faded. And I woulda thought that he would have new paper by now. I only printed like 200 pages. And that was like three weeks ago. So I guess that boy don’t print too much.\n\nSo yeah. That explains why my ass is on the back of the resume. And why the letters and words is all faded on the front.\n\n“So,” the man said to me, “You’re looking for a job as an investment banking analyst?”\n\n“Fuck yeah,” I said, “Can you hook a brother up?”\n\nI passed the mirror across the table to the man. He snorted a line of coke through a Benjamin.\n\nHe leaned back in his chair, eyes widening, nostrils dilating. He sniffled.\n\n“Fuck that’s good,” he said.\n\nI grinned at him. Showed him the grill.\n\n“You’re hired,” he said.\n\nWe shook hands and made bank. I never brushed my teeth again. Diamonds, bitch.", "The sun comes up as I look in the mirror, brushing my teeth. The taste of toothpaste is a refreshing change from the putrid taste in my mouth from the night before. I spit, missing the sink.\n\n*That's ok, I can clean it up later.*\n\nMy clothes come off as I turn on the shower. The warm water running down my shoulders as I fight every ounce of my being to stay awake. Nothing puts me to sleep more than a warm shower.\n\nAfter a solid 15 minutes of bliss I climb out and put on some clean clothes just as the sun is coming up.\n\nI wanted to leave a friend a message for when he woke up. I searched my contacts, finding \"Benben\". \n\nMy fingers glide over the screen as my eyes fight to stay open. \n\n\"F-U-C...\" my head drops and I startle myself awake.\n\n\"K- - Y-O-U- -O-P\" *Enter*\n\nI lay my head on my pillow as I drift peacefully off to sleep.\n" ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 4, 4, 72 ]

[ "1419823257", "1419825639", "1419827538", "1419834924", "1419835375", "1419845998", "1419853245", "1419861267", "1419821675", "1419822029", "1419818060" ]

[ "Everyone in a marriage either marries up or marries down. I'm a 43 year old man who married down. My wife, Laura, is the modern day Wonder Woman. Most of my guy friends think I married up, but they don't see the truth. They don't see that our 11 year old doesn't listen to me. Ever since she reached the \"terrible two\" stage, she's been defiant. It wasn't that she was super-strong or fast but she is brilliant. She is telekinetic. \n\nIn the life of a stay at home dad I have to do the chores, cook the meals, the whole nine. My friends are all CEO's and partners at their own law firms. I went to the Cox School of Business for god sake! I could be ten thousand times more of a productive member in society. I could have been someone. Done something. But I love her. So I clean the house and cook the meals and take care of little Becca. Laura always brings home something unique and valuable from her travels.\n\nWe're paid in gratitude from the community. You think I ever have to pay for groceries or anything at our local Walgreens? No. Never. But how would that make you feel? Receiving everything you could want from someone else's merit. It makes you feel worthless. Like you feel into something that you don't deserve. We were young. Reckless. She was quiet and shy. No one would have ever guessed she was super, hell she even wore a mask. Now she doesn't. Everyone knows her. Everyone knows me. Our family. We get no privacy. \n\nYou think North West has a rough life? Wait until you look at Becca's life. Her mom is a super hero. She keeps people like North West out of harms way, everyone out of harms way, but always come home. Now I've said I love her but am I holding her back or is she holding me back? What if she had never married me? We had never had a family? Would anyone know who she was? The only reason she's famous is because of me. I pushed it on her. I had to quit my job and no one understood. How could they? She didn't work and I quit a six-fiqure job trading Gold and Silver futures to look after a child? It was for me. I hate myself for that everyday. I just hope she doesn't. Who knows when she's actually saving the world. She could have anyone she wanted. I'm always worried but always trust her. \n\nI've complained enough, you see, through all the hard time, through all the craziness of my life she's still the love of my life and it will never change. Becca was the best crisis my wife could never fix. ", "Ok Reddit, I'm sooooo fucking done. Jimmy's fourteen now, but he's a fucking mess. I swear to god if I cook ONE more meal and he vaporizes his food I'm going to lose it. Even If I yell at him, his self-righteous mother storms the room and starts feeding me the same bullshit lecture. \"It's his right to have his powers\" and \"you can't yell at him for being himself!\" \nLike FUCK Lorraine, can't you see you're not helping? I swear though, sometimes her superhuman speed translates into superhuman bitching. I'm beginning to worry about Jim though, he's always staying out late, sometimes coming home with his uniform in tatters and ALWAYS the next day there's some unaccounted for murder on the news. I hope he's not turning into some supervillaine out of some comic book; as much as he pisses me off he's my son and I love him to death. But here I am, sitting at my desk, three beers gone and a couple on the way with the kid losing it and his mom flipping her shit at me over speaker phone. I don't care that much about leaving the empties on the counter when we're out of garbage bags honey, and Jim I don't give a shit about where your extra pair of heat proof jeans went. ", "\"Breakfast is ready!,\" I shouted from downstairs, 8 eggs frying on the pan and bacon perfectly dispersing it's porky-woody smoke, throughout the house, at the counter adjacent to me. \"John is definitely going to love this batch,\" I thought.\n\nA minute later, I hear a series of loud, pounding metal sound vibrating off our stairs. \"Quit running John, you're going to wake up your Mother!\" I yelled over my soft shoulders. Suddenly, I feel a soft brush of air below me. I glanced down from my shoulders. There he is standing beside my hip. Looking up at me is this beautiful 9-yr old kid with shiny black wavy hair and soft plushy cheeks, his brown iris' sparkling into a million kaleidoscopic shards from the sun entering the fragile window. Just from one look, you would never believe it. He's the fastest person alive. \n\n30 minutes later, my wife woke from her sweet slumber. I hear the running of the faucet and stomping of her feet above me. 20 minutes later, leaning under the archway to the kitchen, my wife of 2 children. Her brown hair shimmering from the sunlight coming from the window above her. You can see the dust floating and falling on top of her head. Her sweet soft lips creased by her smile. And her eyes softly squinting as she does it. The glow of the lime green wall complimenting her sweet white skin. \"This woman is beautiful,\" I thought, \"I'm the luckiest man alive.\" The story of how we met, never fails to make me laugh. Like my son, she's not what you think she is. This delicate, small framed pregnant women could never be the same person who snapped the Eiffel tower like a twig and used it as a weapon against \"Titan\"? I agree, she did receive a lot of publicity about that. \n\n\"Honey, I love you!\" she says, sitting adjacent from the table. \"Yah, Daddy, I love you too,\" John followed sincerely. I promised to never shed a tear in front of them, because it would make her worry. But on that fine perfect morning I broke it. \n\nAfter breakfast, she flew-off to work. And after flying in a straight 45 degree angle, her suitcase suddenly opens, pieces of white-paper scatters throughout the air. Of course, she picks all of the pieces in the blink of an eye. And before you knew it she is barely visible. You could just feel the level of her strong and \"lovey\" dexterity. ;) \n\nI was dropping off John when suddenly I feel my car rise from the ground. John already disappeared-off to get his mother. I looked outside the driver seat window. I suddenly found myself 300 feet above the ground, suspended by a large magnet strapped to a giant robot's arm. The size of it's rusty-green torso indicates that \"Dr. Destroyer\" is fiddling inside. The awkward length of it's legs made me wonder how this thing was able to, run, let alone stand. \n\nI suddenly woke up from the erratic shaking of the car. I shuffled to find the closest thing I could hold on to. I latched unto the gear stick. Seconds later the shaking intensifies, I lose my grip. Just when I start fumbling around the car, the driver side door suddenly unlatched. I fall out of the driver side door. However, I catch the last bit of the driver side of the window. Now, I was panicking! I averted my eyes from looking down. My belt-buckle unfastened and I can feel it slowly sinking down my feet. The shaking was more intense. I eventually lose my grip. I fell, of what seemed like an eternity, from three feet above the ground. Seeing how humiliating this situation is, I tried to hold in my grin. I looked around to grasp where or what this strange location I was dropped in. Where am I-200 miles away from town? I realize I am in the middle of Talackachumia Desert. I hear nimble footsteps approaching behind me. I turned around and see this strange figure nearing me. He is wearing a dirty white lab coat with green and red chemical stains. He is owning a wild, frizzy red hair that are darting in all corners, and his bushy white eyebrows is indicating that this fellow is mental. He is well-known for his bad brown-yellow teeth and thick glasses. Meet my friend, \"Dr. Destroyer.\" You see, 15x or more a year, Dr. Destroyer picks me up at a unsuspecting location; sometimes at a bar, my house, or occasionally a run to the mail just to solicit an angry response from my wife. Apparently, she hurt his feelings and now he's bent on killing me, it never has never worked, though. He swings his pliers, and knocks me unconscious. \n\nI wake up in a dark room with flashing red lights. My hands and feet are bound. I am in some kind of interrogation room. I take a deep breath. \"I've experienced worse,\" I think to myself, \"any time now, my wife and son, will bust me out of this mediocre-looking confinement, 2 hours before dinner-time.\" \n", "Look, it wasn't supposed to be like this. I'm the genius inventor, I created the serum, the nanotech, and the cybernetic containment systems. Sarah was a lawyer, for crissake. But it turned out I was allergic to the nanites, and somehow there was that cleaning mishap in the basement, and Sarah ended up infected. I tried to remove them, but they'd already fully integrated. Of course, I've always worked from home, but when Sarah went from being a prosecutor to being \"The Judge\", well... I tried to talk her out of it, but, honestly, it was mostly about the risk. Residuals from my patents brought in more than enough money, and we were able to afford private insurance. Life settled down. We were very worried about the effects of the nanites, especially when we managed to get pregnant, but somehow, it worked out. Christopher was born, and he seemed to be normal, as far as it went. No nanites in his blood. And Sarah, of course, recovered in hours, thanks to her enhancements. Able to run faster than most cars, reflexes that almost looked like precognition, stronger than any normal human, indestructible bones, and the ability to heal from anything short of atomization... sure, extreme heat could still kill her, but my wonderful wife wasn't going to be taken down by knives, gunfire, or explosives. And as soon as Chris was able to survive for a few hours without nursing, she was back on the street, beating down miscreants and saving lives. Leaving me, the man who invented the practical solar desalination process, the man who perfected lab-grown beef, at home changing diapers.\n\nBut that's not when the shit hit the fan. Or rather, went through the fan, and the wall, and everything else. See, it turns out that Chris wasn't so much nanite free, as he was fully integrated. I mean, I guess it made sense. They were designed to couple with cells, and they replicated in a manner much like mitosis. But I'd never anticipated them integrating with germ cells like a new kind of inorganic mitochondria, and I certainly wasn't prepared for a kid whose every cell was capable of ... well, superhuman feats. But that's what I'm dealing with, and I'm going to have to find a way to put these nanites into standby really soon, because Chris is starting to teeth...", "**Title:** Any SAHSDs out there understand what I'm going through? *(self.parenting)* \n*submitted 3 hours ago by GammaRayDad_Throwaway to /r/parenting* \n**Body:** Sorry for this but I just have to vent to someone. I'm married to a girl who turned out to be one of the Galactic Rangers - well, the Extended Galactic Rangers. I won't say which one (please don't ask), but it's not one of the Guardian Nine obviously or you'd know who I was. You won't see her in the Daily Looker or on the front page of /r/supernews but she still saves a lot of lives. And yeah I'm proud of her and everything but I feel like my world is collapsing around me since our kid turned 2.\n\nHere's the thing: she knew about my powers from the beginning, but I didn't know about hers until almost a year into our marriage. That was a pretty big surprise. As a super myself I figured I'd be off saving the world while she took care of the kids. When we finally did our taxes together for the first time I realized: she was getting money from the government, and from the same department as me. And she was getting *more* than me. I understand, her powers are somewhat more impressive when it comes to crimefighting. Me, I dunno. I guess sanitation, green energy... third world according to /r/Futurology I'll be in big demand when the future comes. If it ever comes.\n\nSo yeah, I mean, the positive side is that the sex turned amazing. Two supers instead of one sounds like double the fun but bug summoning powers aren't exactly a good time in bed. So it was like twenty times as fun to when I found out about hers.\n\nThe negative side is that our kid got a power that isn't much like mine. He can switch places with anything green that he can see. Yeah. Fun, right? Now he swaps himself into the fridge the last second before I close it and starts eating the butter. I find a chunk of the neighbor's lawn in his crib basically all the time. I keep the curtains closed and keep nothing green in the house but if they open for even a second he's gone.\n\nOnce it was a green car that drove past. He was in the tub at the time. Had to get the wife to fix that one. After I flooded the street with spiders to stop the oncoming cars from running him over, that is.\n\nGod help me I love him, but every time I gotta go pick him up from outside and bring him back in I think I'm gonna just hold my hand over his eyes until his mom gets home. Which I have done before. He screamed and screamed but I just couldn't go chasing after him again. And it's not like I can just call on my wife every time. My wife's powers can stop him but damn.. she earns so much more money than I would. It has to be me at home.\n\nI go to a few groups every week but one in particular is for supers (thank god - the organizer's a mesmer and the kids love her illusionary puppet shows and story time) I made the mistake of complaining there. One of the moms there talked to me in the most patronizing voice about how I should be finding a way to use my powers to solve my problems and how some parents of super kids didn't even have powers and still manage. But her kid is made of fucking metal and she has *magnet powers*. It's like, are you fucking kidding me? Shut up you asshole, you won the kid lottery. But she went on and on about how good her kid was. Like she wasn't basically moving his body for him. Poor kid is never going to learn to do anything without her. I was this close to spawning a cockroach in her ear.\n\nAnyway, I feel like if I have to keep living like this I'm going to lose it and just tape over his eyes. Does it get better when they can understand consequences or entertain themselves with other kids? Just please tell me it gets better.", "Fun activities for my super-powered daughter? (self.parenting)\nSubmitted 9 hours ago by superdad\n\nMy daughter just turned 3. I am a stay-at-hope parent. So far she has the sonic scream, can fly, has super-strength and super-speed. We spend a lot of time outside because she tends to break things inside. Does anyone have any ideas of fun and safe activities we can do together? Or play groups for children with similar abilities? Also, now that she can fly higher, I'm worried she's going to fly away. I was looking into harnesses. Does anyone have any recommendations? Thanks to all!\n\n\n\nHelp! My super-powered daughter has just turned green (self.parenting) Submitted 6 months ago by superdad\n\nI posted here before. My daughter is two and a half and has various super powers. I woke up this morning to take her flying only to find that she was all green! (link to pictures) My wife is away. Who should I see about this? A doctor friend was baffled. \n\nEDIT 1: No, she has no anger issues. \n\nEDIT 2: Some of you say it happens sometimes and that I should wait a bit. \n\nEDIT 3: Ok, it seems to be fading now. All back to normal, I guess.\n\n\n\nAny parents have experience with super-powered children? (self.parenting) \nSubmitted 1 year ago by superdad\n\nI am 32, married, with one child who has just turned two. My wife and I decided that I would stay home with our daughter and that she would continue working. I was working in tech support at Watchtower, while she has a prominent position in the Justice League, so it made sense that I be the full-time parent. \n\nAbout a month ago, daughter started displaying super powers. My wife is frequently away and I have no one to speak to about this. Has anyone had a similar experience? How can I help my daughter's talents? What about safety? \n\nEDIT: Wow, thanks for the support guys! I had no idea this was such a common occurrence. To those asking, so far she's showing super strength, super speed, and she also hovers for a bit, so maybe also flying (fingers crossed). " ]

[ 2, 3, 6, 7, 14, 44 ]

[ "1419877299", "1419847426", "1419834001", "1419828245", "1419831690", "1419831610" ]

[ "Officers I swear that the biggest spider you have ever seen was on my cloths! I was looking for some cloths, but they don't have any. All they have are trash bags. \n\nWait! You should have one of those blankets in your trunk! Can I borrow it please?", "\"Uh, hey officer, I, uh, I know this looks bad but I, uh, I have a, uh, legit excuse. I mean, I know this is the fourth time this week but I swear *this* time it's not just bullshit,\" I stammered.\n\nOfficer Rosenberg raised his hand to his forehead and sighed. He didn't even have to look at my sweaty, pudgy body to know I wasn't a physical threat in that moment.\n\n\"You know what, son? I'm going to give you thirty seconds to tell me why I shouldn't take you down to the station. Again. For this fourth time this week.\"\n\nI knew this was a tale that would take longer than thirty minutes to tell, but my anal virginity was quite potentially at stake here. You don't just get arrested for public nudity four times and *not* serve a wee bit of time.\n\n\"Uh, when does my time start?\"\n\n\"Started.\"\n\n\"Oh, fuck, I uh... basically officer, the tl;dr of the situation is that I... am...\"\n\nShit, how the hell do I tl;dr this epic saga? If only he knew my situation, the quest I was on, the task that I was entrusted by the council of ancients before being sent to the past in order to ensure the safe passage of the Infinite Vessel from this very supermarket to the inescapable depths of the Nether Cave. If only he knew he was my great-grandfather. I'd have told him before, but information this sensitive being released could be detrimental to my cause. Only now I face prison showers. So much to know, so little time to explain.\n\n\"Gumballs,\" was the first thing that came out of my mouth. It was followed by a little bit of nervous vomit. It really made me question my position as saviour of the universe, tbh.\n\nMy great-grandfather sighed once more, reaching for his handcuffs and stepping towards me.\n\n\"You could have tried harder than that, son,\" he said to me, placing the cuffs on my wrists and escorting me to his car.\n\n\"I know,\" I sighed. Or at least I would have if I didn't vomit again instead.\n\n\"Sorry,\" I said, with my eyes at least. I would have said it with my mouth but vomit and stuff.\n\n", "\"Officer, I know what this looks like.\"\n\nThe officer did know what it looked like. It looked like I was naked and had a raging erection. It also looked like I was sprawled on top of some unfortunate produce and may or may not have been defiling a melon. I can assure that while the melon was a sweetheart, it was not my type. \n\n\n\"You have thirty seconds to explain yourself son. Because I'll be honest chasing you through a supermarket was not my idea of a good time.\" The kind officer said while attempting not to strangle me.\n\n\nThirty seconds was hardly a fair amount of time. But it actually worked out since thirty seconds is the exact amount of time I had to waste before I would need to save everyone's life. \n\n\n\n\"What if I told you that in exactly thirty seconds we are going to be attacked by an alien race, whose only weakness is the power of a specific song? What if I told you that I had been sent back in time to this exact moment to prevent it. Although I must admit the agency picked a rather poor time to get me, as I was in the middle of a game of naked tag with my partner and... \"\n\n\n\nThe nice cop began to unsling his hand cuffs. \n\n\n\"Wait I still have twenty seconds!\" I shouted.\n\n\n\n\"Fifteen now son, and I expect to use five of those to cuff you.\"\n\n\n\nI took a deep breath and began to do the only thing I could do. I had ten seconds to save the earth. \n\n\n\n\"You're name is Douglas MacKenzie, you live at 1112 Delilah street. You had a stuffed bear that you carried with you until you were 12. You still keep that bear and hope someday to give it to your son. You tell everyone your favorite movie is Casablanca but when you are being honest you have to admit that it is actually Brothers Solomon. Will Arnett gets you every time. When the first earthquake hits, start singing along with me. It's our only chance!\"\n\n\n\nHe was a good man. His slack jaw with hardly an asset or a detriment to his character. The other cops on the scene looked equally aghast, although I could hardly speak to their moral fiber. Officer MacKenzie took one step and then another. Emotions conflicted across his face as the thirty seconds ran out. I hoped to god this would work. \n\n\n\nThe earth shook around us at the supermarket. Melons and fine vegetables rained down from the shelves. I took a deep breath, it was now or never. If we didn't stop the scourge before they multiplied then all was lost. \n\n\n\n\"You might want to get on your megaphone. It's very important.\"\n\n\n\nAnother quake hit and he looked at me nervously, disbelief and incredulity at war on his expression. As the third rocked the supermarket and steam shot up from fissures all around us he nodded his head in understanding. I knew he would get it. \n\n\n\n\"You have so many relationships in this life\nOnly one or two will last\nYou're going to all this pain and strife\nThen you turn your back and they're gone so fast\nAnd they're gone so fast\nSo hold one to the ones who really care\nIn the end they'll will be the only ones there\nWhen you get old and start losing your hair\nCan you tell me who will still care\nCan you tell me who will still care\n\n\nThey began to join in. Hesitant at first. But growing in number as we reached the critical chorus.\n\n\n\nMmmm bop, ba duba dop\nBa du bop, ba duba dop\nBa du bop, ba duba dop\nBa du yeah yeah.\"\n\n\nStanding naked in the supermarket, singing the song of our people. I knew that this time around, humanity might stand a chance after all. In Mmmbop I trust. ", "\"Insanity is defined as doing the same thing over and over and this is my first time and therefore i am not insane,\" you immediately blurted out. \n\nThe police officer rubbed his temples and sighed. \n\n\"Look kid, I have no time for this, I can still charge you for public indecency.\" \n\nOh damn, you never thought of that. Oh well, time to tell him what you're really here for. \n\nYou smiled, putting on your best know-it-all voice, \"Do you not notice that I am standing at the entrance of a way-too-large supermarket? Most people don't venturing into unknown places, so they grab what's here and leave. And frankly the stuff near the doors are way too expensive. I am doing a public service sir, by scaring them away from this area.\"\n\n\"You got another ten seconds before I put on the cuffs.\"\n\n\"Chips at the back for half the price here.\"\n\n\"I can get there myself, son.\"\n\n\"You sure you can?\"\n\nThe officer paused. The crazy naked man was right. This place was the supermarket equivalent of IKEA and he had heard one too many horror stories. \n\nHis eyes narrowed. \n\n\"What flavour are the chips?\"\n\n\"Salt-and-pepper.\"\n\n\"Put on some clothes and take me there.\"", "Holy Fuck the acid just kicked in huh. Did not plan on having this pit stop on the road trip. Oh Jesus this is not the way to get one with the universe. Alright let's do this. Brain don't Fuck me here.\n\n\"Oh thank God officer...yes...no I'm sorry but...I know but....please I can explain. Yes. You see, I was with this girl last night. Yes. 24. Anyway she invites me over for drinks and I think she must drugged me cause I wake up nude tied to the bedpost. No sir I'd remember if I was conscious when she did it. So no one's there when I wake up and I struggle for a while and after an hour this big Ukrainian guy comes in and starts screaming some commie crap, and I start flipping out. Guy pulls a gun, unites, rebinds My hands and throws me in a van. Still stark naked. Yes. It was very uncomfortable. Anyway, through the bag on my head- What? Burlap I think. I see traffic stopped and the door handle is on the inside. I open the door and Sprint out. What? I was able to kick it open. I don't know what to say I played soccer. I have been described as nimble. Then I ran toward the most populated place I could think of.\"\n\nOh God is that a Fucking genie coming out of his ear. I miss you robin Williams. No way. Holy shit they pulled through they're coming back for me. My bros pulled through, rescue on the way! One cruiser in the way let's do this.\n\n\"Yes sir. No I can't. I can't give a statement. Or descriptions no. Well she had a nice ass. Also I'm tripping on acid. No I wasnt slipped acid, took it of my own free will. Yes I realize it's illegal. I also lied. Everything. Yes blatantly. At least a light felony I'm aware. I would love to, but my magic carpet is here.\"\n\nI dash down the yellow brick road and catapult myself, cock and balls swinging through the air like a majestic pendulum, right down the rabbit hole. I spin around hand cocked high for the ensuing high fives all around.\n\nMother fucker.\n\nThis is a school bus.\n", "They had finally cornered me. Those vile swine. I had taken several pills of X about an hour or two before-hand. In some frenzied, near manic state, I had ended up in the bakery of my local Kroger browsing for bread. I spotted some fresh marble-rye and in a state of excitement, I stripped down to my birthday suit, as any sane man on X would do upon finding the perfect loaf of marble-rye, and I began prancing around the store, as if I were some hyped up Jackal on cocaine, screaming at the top of my lungs, “Freedom for the Democrat Assembly of the U.S.S.R.!” For a while, I thought I was invisible, unknown to the naked eye of man, but I soon realized that I was sorely mistaken when I felt a prick in my back and shortly thereafter began convulsing in the dairy aisle to the tune of fifty-thousand volts pulsating through my body. It was a grand spectacle. \n\nAfter my tendons quit twitching and I attempted to wipe the drool off of my beard with a carton of eggs[my hands were cuffed behind my back], I kindly explained to the vile, depraved swine that I was part of a peaceful protest protesting the usage of animal fat in lard. They didn’t believe me. The most vile of the swine, Officer Ricardo, said, “Son, you’re pupils are dilated to the size of the moon, and you’re sweatin’ like a whore in Sunday Mass.” That bastard had me pinned down. He knew what I was, but the other’s didn’t. Surely, they couldn’t be aware of who they were dealing with? What I was? In some fantastically miraculous turn of events, I spotted not one, not two, but four white women dressed from head to toe in hemp, two of them sporting dreads. They were eyeing the soymilk. Accompanied by my quick wit, I began chanting, “People for the ethical treatment of animals! Meat is Murder! Meat is murder!”. It started off quietly, but then it grew in numbers...four to be exact. It was a movement. These swine couldn’t cart me off now. There were witnesses to my bravery. I was now a martyr for a noble cause. They had no other choice, but to release me into the custody of those four strange, smelly women. It was the beginning of a great fling. Julia was her name. \n\nEDIT: typos/ grammar " ]

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

[ "1419824209", "1419825330", "1419822848", "1419823355", "1419824850", "1419822756" ]

[ "I knocked my sunglasses down to the tip of my nose, and she did the same. Same eyes, same hair, same height...and based off of that brief sentence I heard from her, we have a near identical voice, too.\n\nBefore a very disturbing thought could cross my mind, she pointed at my jacket's sleeve. \"Can I see your wrist?\" she requested as my voice was hiding in the darkest corner of my throat. I did as she asked without hesitance, revealing a series of scars made from an accident in the kitchen. As I showed it to her, her arm, with an identical pattern, posted up next to it.\n\nAt first, we were both in wide-eyed horror as questions rained onto my brain. Two Nicks? How did *this* happen? What kind of insanity was this? More importantly, what was Maya going to say when she found out? Does *she* have a Maya?!\n\nThen, horror became curiosity. Two of us meant that we could be in two places at the same time. Two heads to work in a single area. Two people to live a single life. Two duplicates to work one project. That writing career might finally be able to take off after all. If not that, then art, music, online fame, anything that we could put our minds into. We didn't even need to work hard on a friendship because we loved who we were.\n\nWith her, both of us half-assing it meant the result of one of us, which was plenty as is.\n\nWhen this final realization clicked in our heads, I felt a smile break out on my face and saw one on hers.\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\n\"Hell.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"", "I proceeded to throw them back over the railing of the clipper, never to speak of that fateful voyage again. From that day on I always pondered, is it a sin to kill oneself...", "I stared at him, trying to wrap my head around what was happening. He looked just like me. Same height, same haircut, same posture, same face. Every detail was the same, down to the scar just below my left eye. He didn't look like me. He was me. \n\n\"H-hi,\" we both said. ", "I held my breath and swam as fast as I could. I am not going to let her die. I pushed against the strong ocean currents and grabbed the drowning body. I threw her over my shoulder and heard her slowly breathing.\n\nI sighed, Now I have to get back. I closed my eyes and swam as fast and i could until my I could stand. I laid her down in a safe place, not bothering to look at her just yet. Apparently there wasn't a lifeguard apparently, so I got everyone out of the dangerous waters and turned back to her. I almost fainted. \n\nShe looked, exactly like me. I put my hand over my heart as it sped up rapidly. This can't be possible. This isn't right. I backed away from her like she was a monster. I wanted to leave her. Did I die in the water? I laughed hysterically. No, I thought, this isn't real. I had to be dreaming. I had to be.\n\nI heard gasps from the crowd and rolled my eyes, just what I needed. She had the same hair as me, freckles as me. Heck, she even had the same scars as me. This couldn't be possible. I began to cry frightened. I have to be going insane. She began to open up her eyes. I've always been told I had unique eyes, but this was like a copy of me. It was like looking into a mirror. \n\nShe started to sit up, unaware that I was there. I couldn't let her see him. I acted quickly and thought of the most rational thing that a person would do. I threw sand into her eyes and ran away screaming. Scared that she would kill me or something.\n " ]

[ 1, 2, 2, 2 ]

[ "1419931869", "1419915748", "1419916016", "1419916534" ]

[ "Another year come and gone. Another year of uncertainty, fear, and adventure. Another year survived. Drake sat in the corner of a tiny hole in the wall bar, buried in the urban jungle. He had come to appreciate places like this, the type where people enjoyed their solitude. The air may be musty and the beer stale but at least he was left in peace.\n\nDrake’s fingers drummed incessantly on the table and his leg bounced in anticipation. He took a long, deep breath and barely registered the dank air, hints of urine and vomit wafting from the faded bathroom door. The small TV was blaring in the corner, people dancing in the street, headlines of ‘Happy New Year!’ and ‘Goodbye 2014!’ flashed across the screen. \n\nThe anticipation was building much faster now. He checked his watch again; twenty more minutes. Drake took another deep breath. The source of his dread popped into his head once again, ‘where will I be tomorrow?’ or perhaps the more appropriate question would be ‘when?’\n\nFor nearly seventeen years the impossible had been happening to Drake, every year, on the stroke of midnight, New Year’s Day. Once the clock struck his world would go black and he would awaken far away and in another time. His body and mind were always the same but any material items he had with him would vanish, leaving him naked, confused, and almost always in danger. His mind drifted to the very first time he had jumped. He had been only a teenager at the time, fresh out of junior high. It was 1981 and his only worries had been his Trans Am and women. He never could have been prepared for his future. One minute he had been searching for Heather Brown to steal a quick smooch, the next he found himself naked in the mud, a road next to a large field. It was not long before a column of men dressed in armor and helmets, red capes flowing behind them were marching towards him, a soft clank with every step. He could have laughed had he not been petrified with fear.\n\nDrake spent that first adventure as a slave of Rome. He looked back now and considered himself lucky. Learning Latin had not been particularly easy but the ability to read and write made him a vital asset to his master. Better than being fodder for the wars. The year went by painfully and slowly but ended similarly to the year before. However this time he found himself sailing across the Atlantic in search of gold with an insane Spaniard and his small band of mercenaries. \n\nDrake had fought in Napoleon’s army, revolted against an American corporate oligarchy, survived prehistoric giants, hit on a Russian princess, visited the moon, and heard the teachings of Aristotle. He had seen history long past and stories yet to be made. A small smile crept slowly across his face. Yes he was nervous, he feared the unknown and there was no telling where he may pop up or if he would survive to see another year, but he knew deep in his soul that he would not change a single thing. He checked his watch one last time, closed his eyes, and took a slow breath. His world went black.\n", "31 December 1977 - New York City\n\nThis has been my thirtieth year, and so far it has been the most mundane. I don't recall much of my childhood; there are vague memories of growing up on a farm somewhere, somewhen. A mental institution in Chicago near a meatpacking neighbourhood. They thought I was mad when I went to sleep in an ancient Chinese settlement one night and woke up in Gilded Age America the next. I remember most fondly the year I helped my father raise cattle in Africa somewhere before any Europeans had come.\n\nI first realised that I jumped when I was in my early adolescence. The memories I had were vague, scattered across a globe I knew nothing about. Then I woke up in Stockholm in 2005, and discovered what the internet was, what early 21st-Century technology could provide me. I read voraciously, researching what my memories meant. And then I went to sleep one night and woke up in South America, a member of the Inca tribe in what you would call Chile.\n\nThe furthest forward I've ever been was 2026. This was the second time I'd had internet access, digital encyclopaedias, the knowledge of the past at my fingertips. I learned as much as possible, how to read the environment I was in to gauge my place and time. All I can bring with me are my memories and my knowledge; everything I own disappears, replaced by a new life's worth of possessions. I speak fifty-five languages now, but many of them are extinct. I have sat through lectures in schools that I knew first-hand were wrong, but learned to hold my tongue.\n\nI've never met... myself. There were times where I've overlapped with a past-lived life but I've never had the courage or the desire to see what happens after I leave a life. Do they know that I've been them, lived for them, for a year? I can't decide one way or the other, but I am afraid to know. Both possibilities give me comfort and fear at the same time, and to know for sure... I don't think I'm ready for that.\n\nI once lived in a time that pre-dated the written word. That was my 21st year, and I was a hunter-gatherer in ancient Europe, most likely France. I had the knowledge to make hand tools far beyond the technology of the time, but I also had the discipline to resist that temptation. That was a tough year; it was bitterly cold, though I suspect not during a proper Ice Age. Many of my tribe died, and I was the only one bringing in food: animals I later learned were Aurochs. They were dangerous, enormous beasts, but one was sufficient to sustain us for weeks.\n\nThis go-around, as I've said, was the most mundane. I worked in a Bronx grocery store as a cashier, earning a small living and reading more of history. I wonder if I'll ever be someone famous, or important. I never know what happens to the people whose life I've lived, but I've started a project each year if it's applicable. Tonight is my night off, so I've collected all the notes and papers I've written for this person: financials, important events, the people I've met. (I once married a milkmaid from a neighbouring village in Kazakhstan in the 1100s; I wonder how surprised he was when he woke up!) A summary of everything I've done that year, and things that person should know. This is the fifth time I've been able to do this.\n\nBut you know what? Mundane is good. I enjoyed living your life, and I hope that you do as well. It's certainly better than a year in the trenches in Belgium, and even better than my year as a Japanese nobleman (that was a stressful year). I've seen things I never would have before, and for the first time in my life (lives?), I've had a steady job in a Technology Age First World major metropolis.\n\nIt's almost midnight now; I'm watching the ball drop on the black-and-white television in your apartment. Your mother passed away in March, and I think about her every day. Your lovelife has been better-than-average, but no pregnancies or huge breakups. The red envelope is a detailed list of income and expenditures for the year; I've managed to set up a small investment portfolio with a few good stocks to hang on to. I may have already met you, and I may meet you again someday, but you'll probably never know it. Time is a fascination for everyone of any point in history, if that's a comfort, and doubly so for me. Good luck to you, and I hope I've done well.\n\n" ]

[ 1, 13 ]

[ "1419922052", "1419919385" ]

[ "Writing a story about writing a story seems trite and lazy, but is in practice quite the task. When pen is put to pad, taps to text, quill to parchment, pencil to paper, an amazing thing happens. Suddenly, slowly, it happens at different times for different reasons, or for no reason at all. When it happens, the impossible becomes possible, the fantasic turns mundane, and the insignificant becomes legendary. In the unique magic of the written word, the writer becomes a god. Lives are created and destroyed on a whim, with the consequences that are defined as they are indefinate.\nIf only for you, if for no one, if only for the very words themselves. Words are worthless and priceless in a duality that mirrors nature itself and lives with us and die without. \nDo not be afraid, for the power of the 'verse is in you. Use it well!", "You know what is better then writing a story that you visioned?\n\nWriting a story to help someone else visualize theirs.\n\nA writing prompt is not only just writing to have fun, but also to learn, to inspire. A simple sentence can mean many stories through different perspectives and ideas, endless trails of thought that was brought though by the simple mind of people.\n\nAt first, you might be a little bit shaky. But overtime, you learn how much it brings to voice out the knowledge and creativity you shed through your writing. The joy it brings.\n\nThe prompter, he smiles because someone has written something for them, and they mean what they put into this small bracket. A full fledged story, just through a simple thought someone wanted to put into words. That they can enjoy reading, and learn from it.\n\nThe writer, he smiles because he was able to write what he wanted, he was able to show the others what he had to say. No matter whether what he wrote was well liked or not, he knows that at least he was able to write it.\n\nAnd last but not least, the viewer, this is the most important. The viewer can be both, a writer and/or a prompter, when he views these stories, a little thought always pops into their head without them knowing:\n\nWhat can I learn from this?\n\nCause no matter whether the story was good or not, people can learn from it, and knowledge is key in surviving in the writers world. We learn to interpret the little bits of knowledge that another writer has shown, the way they write or show their story, the details that they show with their character, the way it progresses, it moves.\n\nWe writers learn to adapt, and we want all of us to evolve, and that's why we write.\n\nA writing prompt isn't something we do just for the heck of it, a writing prompt is something that we want others to inspire from.\n\nA writing prompt isn't something we fight to reach the top for, it's something we do to help others climb.\n\nWe write, isn't because we should do.\n\nWe write, because we want to." ]

[ 1, 2 ]

[ "1419929056", "1419922744" ]

[ "“Your eyes are amazing.”\n\n“Excuse me?” she said looking up from her knitting and clearly a bit startled.\n\n“Your eyes, I've never seen anything like them.” I couldn't believe what I was saying, but I’d never seen anything like her in my life.\n\nShe looked away at the fountain, blushing and trying to hide a smile. “Thank you. That’s very kind thing of you to say.”\n\n“Can I ask your name?”\n\n“You may.”\n\n“Her name is Sarah. And I’m Alice,” said a girl sitting beside her. She slide closer protectively. Her nose and hair were both very straight. “We’re just visiting for the weekend.”\n\nMy eyes stayed fixed on Sarah’s. There were no words to describe them, but they both terrified and fascinated me. I worried that she would look away again, but her eyes never moved and the corners of her mouth stayed even, like she was balancing a thought between them.\n\n“That’s peculiar,” I said, still fixated on her. “There’s a lot to pass through around here, not too much to visit though.”\n\n“We’re visiting her dad,” Alice said cutting in. “He’s has health issues and he moved out here recently because the dry air is better for lungs, so it’s really an emotional time for all of us.”\n\n“I’m sorry to hear to that,” I said. I waited a second for Sarah to say something, or more likely for Alice to cut in again. The moment hung in the air, like a ball just before it crosses the plate. Sarah wasn't just a girl and those eyes weren't just beautiful. For twenty-three years I’d been riding along the tracks, going to all the right places that everyone had told me about. And now, those eyes, this girl--this was finally my stop and those were the signs to get off. I felt the moment passing. It was swing or strike out. \n\n“This isn't appropriate, but would you want to go see Sunset Castle with me tonight? The theater here only shows one picture and I've seen it, but it’s a excellent film and I it might be important for you to see it.”\n\nI felt my heart drop like a hammer.\n\n“Did you really just try to pick up a girl whose dad is dying?” Alice scoffed. She stood up, and I thought for an instant that she was going to slap me. “This place is just crawling with class,” she said shaking her head. “Come on Sarah, let’s go.”\n\n“No.”\n\nBoth Alice and I looked at Sarah in surprise.\n\n“He’s not even my dad, he’s my step-dad,” she said turning towards Alice. “And fuck him. He’s an ass hole, and just because he smoke and drank himself into shit hole doesn't mean everyone gets to drag me down here every other weekend so that I can help pretend he didn't fuck everything up. I hate that fucking bastard and I haven’t seen Sunset Castle yet, but I've heard of it and it looks interesting.”\n\nSarah stood up and turned to me. Her eyes had changed. They were watery, but little roots that I’d never seen before had grown in from the sides.\n\n“Yes, I will go,” she said. “And I’m sorry, that was obscene.” She then held up the object she had been knitting and spread her arms out wide so that it stretched out horizontally. It was a scarf. “They’re elephants,” she said moving one end forward. “Do you like it?”\n\n“I do, but aren't those fish?” I replied. She lowered the scarf, revealing a small and beautiful smile. \n\nAlice bent her head around to look at the scarf and scrunched her straight nose in confusion, then stomped off alone.", "Colorblind does even begin to describe it. I don’t just not see some colors, I see only black and white or really in actuality I see grey on grey on grey an endless vision of grey so monotonous that stark white or true black are amazing to me. I’ve grown used to it. I have learned the colors that others see; memorizing such things, as it fascinates me. The sky is blue but so is that car, the grass is green and so are her eyes, it is wondrous and amazing but I have faced the facts that it is not for me to see. Still I find myself seeking …seeking …ever seeking wondering if ever it will happen. Wondering if the synapses of my brain will connect and the vision of color will be granted to me. \nA crew of us decides to take a break from college and stress and head to the park. The day is beautiful, sunny with a warmth that settles over my skin. It seems we are not the only ones driven to distraction by the tease of a nice day; the park has many people in it including a set of girls that have buckets of water balloons. The siren call of fun and hormones carries us across the park to say hello and quickly a water balloon fight begins. I am running to dodge a direct hit when I smack into a girl inadvertently. It is a hard hit that brings us both down. My head rings and everything spins. Shaking my head, I sit to see if she is ok finding that as my eyes fall on her she is no longer grey on grey on grey… she is in color. My perception of time freezes as I become aware of only her. She is vibrant, in shades of such variety that it transfixes me. Eventually the call of my friends to see if I am ok, the realization that nothing else has color, and even the sweet sound of her voice checking on me breaks through my reverie. Standing, I quickly toss out all options other than to stay and see this vision that could vanish near as quick as it came. I laugh with the others and head for a water balloon.\n\nI hold the grey thing in my hand and run as the others run but I see only her as I do. Sunshine, golden rays of sunshine stream down on her honey tanned skin as she flits about the grass barefoot with pink toenails. Turning on her heel to dash off in another direction, the chime of her laugh trails behind her along with her bouncing brown curls. I ready my aim and her skip, hop, and jump cannot save her from her fate as I release the water balloon in my hand and it sails through the air to connect with her body. I am spellbound to see the balloon turn red and burst upon her shoulder as she stands amid the field, mouth open on a squealed giggle of surprise, water falling in a splash of shimmering glitter that cascades down her body over breasts concealed just barely by tiny navy blue triangles of a bikini that darkens deeper in shade as the water soaks into the fabric. She is an array of vivid colors and life seems to beam out of her\n\nMy boys razz me for my clear fascination with her and soon I begin to notice that she flirts with me and only me. The game continues and I watch grey balloon after grey balloon take color when it connects with her… purple, red, green, blue I near pelt the girl with the entire bucket yet still she laughs and a time or two manages to get me in return. The game ends and I am frantic. I can’t lose her, I can’t lose this. My panicked mind explodes as she runs to me in unexpected candor, greeting me with a smile of white teeth and rose tinted lips holding no reserve. Sweet arms of soft tenderness wrap around me in spontaneity and I lose my grip on passivity to wrap my arms around her. I hold her. I hold this honey toned, brilliant, and bright girl as she holds me in return. I curl down to her height and she presses her rosy lips to my cheek. Her laughter of joy as she releases me shocks me to look back at her and I find her eyes are blue like the sky. She gives me her number, I text her in seconds, before we have even walked away. She calls me cute, we have a date and I will spend a lifetime wooing her but on Monday I am going to the doctors. ", "Alarm. Snooze. Alarm. Snooze. Alarm. Stop.\n\nWalk. Turn. Walk. Turn. Walk. Stop.\n\nMirror. Yawn. Mirror. Yawn. Mirror. Stop.\n\nBrush. Adjust. Brush. Adjust. Brush. Stop.\n\nWash. Rinse. Wash. Rinse. Wash. Stop.\n\nHurry. Dressed. Hurry. Dressed. Hurry. Stop.\n\nChew. Car. Chew. Car. Chew. Stop.\n\nWork. Indifferent. Work. Indifferent. Work. Stop.\n\nLunch. Chew. Lunch. Chew. Lunch. Stop.\n\nUnfulfilled. Regret. Unfulfilled. Regret. Unfulfilled. Stop.\n\nHome. Not home. Home. Not home. Home. Stop.\n\nRinse. Repeat. Rinse. Repeat. Rinse. Stop.\n\nExhaustion. Defeat. Exhaustion. Defeat. Exhaustion. Stop\n\nLive. Die. Live. Die. Stop.\n\nDo it. Don't. Do it. Stop.\n\nJump. Stop.\n\n\n\n\n`Stop! You don't have to do this ! You have so much to live for !` \n\n\n\nTurn. Understand. " ]

[ 2, 3, 4 ]

[ "1420014227", "1420012909", "1420010639" ]

[ "Our birth, the moment that we are delivered into this world occurs only once, yet there are so few who can recall this miracle of being. As we age, the memories of our youth fall into disarray before fading completely away. The years, our experiences, the joys, the hopes, the sorrow, are stolen from us as our hearts beat like muffled drums marching to the grave.\n\nRhythmic beeping fills the room, slow and steady, keeping track of each heart beat. My time has long since past, I've made peace with this world and those in it, to have lived this long is more than I could have hoped for. Staring at the ceiling, I struggle to remember the years that have passed me by. Voices call to me from afar, muffled and distorted as memories play in my head, an indistinguishable film. I wish I were there again, given another chance to change the outcome, to experience the slopes of life once more.\n\n“Life may be full of misery and woe” I thought to myself, “but what a misfortune that we must let go.”\n\nI closed my eyes for the final time and escaped into the night. Twilight welcoming me with open arms, my spirit leaped at the thought of another chapter. Ascending into the heavens, I reached out for the stars only to fall short. Plummeting into the darkness below, I cried out for someone to save me. Shadow surrounded me as I fell into a pool of nothing.\n\n“Born with nothing, to nothing I return.” I seemed to hear myself say.\n\nIn the pool of pitch, I saw a reflection of my younger self, it was pulling me under. I struggled and fought as it grasped my legs and tugged.\n\n“What are you doing?! Stop! Stop! You'll drown me!” I screamed, wallowing about.\n\nA thin line reached from ear to ear as it climbed from the ooze using my body as a ladder. His soulless gaze matched mine, grasping at my shoulders and tightening as I continued to writhe helplessly. It looked upwards into the darkened sky as my eyes followed instinctively, we bobbed upwards only once before submerging into the inky depths. Its mouth flew open as its eyes widened, an empty void screamingly hungrily toward me. At last I understood. From my very birth, this monstrosity had been sucking the very life from me, my memories and my health were lost to it, and it sought to finish the task. An anger bordering on hatred welled up within me as I placed my hands at its throat, firmly squeezing the stolen life from its form. It kicked wildly landing blows to my thin frame, my grip tightened and I shook violently.\n\nAn immeasurable amount of time passed as the kicking and flailing subsided, I raced for the surface as the now lifeless body rose in my wake. In time, I was able to enter my old body once more and explore eternity for a life anew.\n\n-001", "Until you die, it's impossible to know the magnitude of the matter. Schools teach of bacteria in the body, of blood cells and skin cells and brain cells - every part of the human body is a small piece of life. \n\nThe thing is, they're all more than alive. They have minds of their own, and it's in the afterlife that they all get the opportunity to have a say.\n\nSee, it turns out there is in fact an afterlife. It's a very crowded place, to say the least, because while everything is the same size, literally every piece of individual life that has at some point existed ends up here. With an equal voice.\n\nThey say romantic things about democracy; just wait until your hair gets to outvote you. It is equal parts disturbing and amusing. \n\nWe are worlds in our own right - they tell me strange stories, the friends that used to be my blood cells. The warriors of the immune system tell grand tales of conquest, while the reds tell of their supply chains and proud efficiency. All the brain cells want to do is network with each other. It's a society in itself, built on stories and perspective. But it's crowded enough and all the voices talk at the same time at the same volume everywhere. On average it takes a year of subjective time to go fully insane. For the rest of existence, that is. \n\nIt's really quite odd. We stay alive to hold onto our sentience. Our bodies do the same to avoid it." ]

[ 2, 35 ]

[ "1420079763", "1420079143" ]

[ "As I hear the ancinet phone ring, I ring, answer it.\n\n\"H-hello?\"\n\nThere is a slight delay, and a his of static, but then a voice comes up on the other end.\n\n\"Hey Barney, where are you? TARDIS is leaving in 10, and... wait you're not Bareny. Where is he?\"\n\nI close the phone, then put it in a container. I need to do some research now...", "I wiped the bits of earth and clay off the screen of what seems so much like a cell phone. But how can it be. When the first things that were dug up were dated at 1500 years old...\n\n...and it then it rang. I was so confused, yet somehow excited. Who could be calling, I wondered. I answered as quickly as I could, ready to hear the voice of god, aliens, or maybe even a time traveler.\n\"Hello?\" I asked\n....\n\"Hello, who is this..?\" The first few words.. He sounded strange, European in origin. I know what I need to say. The only thing anyone in my situation would say.\n\n\"Is your refrigerator running?\"\n\n\"What is a frigerater\" He said\n\n\"Well you better go catch it\"\n\nAnd then I hung up\n\n\n...I knew my years in meme college were well spent", "\"Hello?\" I stuttered into the strange phone. \n\nA million different things were running through my head, 'This dig site was supposed to be older than writing on this planet. How did this get here? What even is it? Who...' My thoughts were cut off abruptly by an eerie robotic voice.\n\n\"It has chosen!\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"It has chosen to answer!\"\n\n\"Answer what? Who is this? How can this...\"\n\n\"It must speak for this world. Change the path, the one who answers, the path is its responsibility.\"\n\n\"Is this some sort or prank?\"\n\n\"It has what it needs, the path is its responsibility.\"\n\nThe call went silent, no ring tone, just silence. I took the phone away from my ear and just stared at it shaking my head. 'This was the strangest thing that has ever happened to me. It must be this jungle, I've got to have a fever.'\n\nThe screen flashed to life, it began to open a timeline of ancient events and began to track forward. This list was very detailed, I could isolate by region down to individual actions, even as far as the effect a single action had on others as it rippled out shaping the course of history. The phone eventually made it to today's date, then kept going. Every person's actions and the effect on mankind, it was completely overwhelming. The time line began trickle down to fewer and fewer people and events and finally finished with the deaths of the last eight people taking their own lives on a dying world not worth living in. \n\n'That was it! All our history, ends in a pity party in the burned out remains of a fast food restaurant.' I panicked as I checked the date of that pathetic event. 'July 19th 2047... there's time. I guess I have chosen.'", "My first dig! I was so excited that I couldn't even hold it in! The company I was with was by far more experienced, and by far more annoyed than anything by my endless excitement. But I don't care! I talk the entire way there. Well, almost. The excitement started to die down the closer we got to the site.\n\nIt's the strangest thing. I'm filled with this.... This... Dread. No. I'm just anxious. What if it's a bust? What if I don't do well? What if I mess it up and this ends up being my first, and last trip? What if.... No. I'm sorry, I'm done. It's just new, and I'm anxious.\n\nWe pull up to the site, and I look out. It's not what I expected. Honestly, I'm not sure *what* I expected. I guess I wanted to pull up to see this massive, unearthed ruined city. Not... Holes. In movies it's always been this massive dig with dinosaurs bones everywhere. Not holes.\n\nNeedless to say, i annoyed everyone around me to the point they refuse to even work with me. So here I am. Alone, dusty, and something not even ten minutes ago I wouldn't even DREAM of being.... Bored.\n\nAt least the anxiety is gone, right? A few hours in now, and I think I'm done. Maybe this IS the last dig for me. But my for the reasons I thoug... \n\n*clink*\n\nAt first glance I thought I hit a rock. But there was something different about it. I started to dig around it. Then I try to dust it off just to see that it is.\n\nOh my God. It's a skeleton. Holy crap this is cool.\n\n\"Hey Steve, you doing alright over there?\"\n\n\"oh yeah! Nothing but dirt and sand here!\"\n\nScrew them. This is my find. I see those glances they've been making at me all day. The pure avoidance I've been getting. No. This is **my** find.\n\nThis area is supposed to be rather ancient. But this skeleton is in decent condition. Clothing, while dirty, looks preserved. I'm not sure I understand. I think I'm going to just get someone. This seems out of my league.\n\nI stand up and start to wave someone down. But before I'm able, there's... There's something vibrating? It's buried under some dirt... But it's... Um. A cell phone? And it's ringing?\n\nHonestly, i didn't even think it over. I was too intrigued *not* to answer.\n\"hello? Steve speaking.\"\nSilence... \n\"anyone there?\"\n\"Don't do it! Just don't do it! I swear, you'll regret every..... Just.... Do.... Pleas... I beg of yo... Th... av.....llaps..... Die!\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, you're breaking up, i can't hear you!\"\n\nIt's too late. It's already gone, and the phone is dead. I'm not sure I recognize the phone. But it's definitely newer. \n\nI keep this to myself for now. Honestly, who's going to believe me anyway? I pack up, make the half mile trek back to the rest of the group, and we all sit down for dinner. I start talking to Phil.\n\nPhil is a bit awkward. Sits alone mostly, so I figured we're both outcasts of the group. He's actually a really cool guy. He's been doing this for 10 years now, and he's giving me all kinds of stories. Turns out, he even found a cave about a quarter mile north! He even asks if I wish to come along! Better than digging a hole by myself, that's for sure!\n\nWe finish up dinner, and we head on over. Upon reaching this cave, i get this sense of dread I felt earlier. But there's no way in HELL I'm backing down on this just because a little fear gets in the way! So we delve in. It's a very narrow, deep, and very dark cave. It was hard to navigate, and even harder to see. Finally we came into a chamber in the cave where Phil has been working in. We set up, and get to work.\n\nAfter exchanging stories about life, and where we went wrong, we decided it was time to take a break and have a beer. Then another. And another.\n\nAt this point, we're both laughing, and having a great time. To which Phil pulls out a stick of dynamite. I've never actually seen one before. And he just handed it to me! We agreed to light it, and throw it down a tunnel a little bit further down. I'm super excited at this point.\n\nSo we find the perfect spot. We light that sucker up, and I gave it a good toss. What I didn't expect, was to have it hit the cave's ceiling, and fall about 25 yards in front of us. We didn't even have time to run. Just... \n\n**BOOM** \n\nThe entire cave shook. Rocks came crumbling down in the most terrifying experience of my life. I got separated from Phil, and I'm trapped in this pitch black cave with no light, as the cave took out any artificial light we had. I'm terrified to walk. I can't see a thing. I'm crawling on my hands and knees, terrified to fall down some drop. I'm calling out to Phil, with no answer. I'm left alone, feeling around for my life until I find something smooth?\n\nIt's a cell phone! Oh thank God! LIGHT!\n\nIf only I could say that was good. As soon as the light pierced the darkness, the first thing I see is Phil's head crushed by a fallen rock, and I'm trapped with no way out.\n\nWhat numbers do I know? I don't know any numbers! How do I not know any numbers? Oh God I'm the most stupid person alive! I only know my own number! Maybe someone in the group will hear my phone ring, and answer? Oh God, i don't know! But I'm desperate!\n\nNo signal. I'm doomed. I'm doomed to a live of spending the rest of my short life in a cave. Maybe if I just hold the cell phone up higher? That works, right?\n\nHoly crap I have a bar! I quickly dial my phone. SOMEONE ANSWERS!\n\n\"hello? Steve speaking.\"\n\nI'm now filled with this complete sense of dread. I have no idea what's going on. I answered? But... Oh who cares! Maybe I can warn myself? Oh God I'm going crazy! \n\n\"anyone there?\"\n\n\"Don't do it! Just don't do it! I swear, you'll regret everything! Just don't do it, please! I beg of you! The cave will collapse, and you will die!\"\n\nThe final words I'll ever hear before the phone dies.\n\n\"I'm sorry, you're breaking up. I can't hear you.\"\n\nThe phone goes black. The cave goes silent. So here I lie. To spend all eternity here. In the black silence of my grave.", "Attention; Your time has come and I hope you have prepared Sol 3 to our standards. We should arrive in 3 cycles and Leader expects everything to be ready to go.", "\"Are you happy with your long distance service? Well AT&T has a de...\" \nI hung up. \n\"Shut it down!\"", "brrrrrrng\n\nI stare at what could only be described as a cell phone, the vibration shaking me as I gazed at it in fear.\n\nI treated it like a grenade about to explode but do nothing, my tanned face suddenly growing paler with each ring until it stops.\n\nRelieved, I sit back down and look at the skeleton, only to discover the \"phone\" start ringing again.\n\nRealizing I have no other choice, I open the ancient device, bringing it up to my ear.\n\n\"Hello?\" I ask, my voice quivering.\n\n\"Time Travel Triple A, this is John, we haven't heard from you in a while Cindy, is your vacation going well?\"\n\nI stare at the skeleton, a chill running down my spine. \"Umm... John? My name is Charles Jorgenson with the archeology division of the University of Pennsylvania, I found this cell phone with a skeleton.\"\n\nThe phone line went quiet, I heard quiet whispers of their conversation, the caller's superior coming over and berating the employee.\n\n\"We can't save her, that would make a paradox.\"\n\n\"We can't lose another time traveler! A few more incidents like this will bring the entire time tourism industry down.\"\n\n\"But... the paradox!\"\n\nI stared at the skeleton, watching in confusion as it disappeared, and the phone disappeared, and...\n\nWhat was I doing here?", "With gentle strokes I brushed away the dirt from a black object. I squinted as I looked at the object. I knew I had been out on the steppe for a long time this summer. Hell, the sun almost never set this far north. An argument could be made that my brain had been cooked, but I knew that a cell phone was not a sacred artifact buried in a pre-historic temple.\n\nI grabbed the cell phone. I grit my teeth in frustration and stomped out of the tent that protected the dig site. “Who owns this phone?” I yelled.\n\nNobody answered. I had been dealing with this BS all summer with this batch of grad students. Pranks and laziness mainly. I was at my wits end. \n\nI had spent years finding and then excavating this temple. The artifacts found here would rewrite history. My name would be attached to the earliest example of a temple to the dead. I would not have something stupid like contaminations of the dig site ruin this for me.\n\n“I will destroy this phone if someone doesn’t step up and claim it,” I screamed.\n\nThe grad students on the sieve stopped working. “What kind of phone is it, Professor?” said one.\n\nI closed my eyes and tried to take deep breaths to calm myself. I counted to five. I wanted to throw this phone right at their stupid little heads. My funding would dry up faster than a puddle in the Mojave during August if I did though. I opened my eyes and flipped over the phone. “It’s a Nokia.”\n\nAnother grad student came out of the kitchen tent. “No one here has a Nokia. It’s a piece of shit phone. At least buy a Samsung.” He laughed.\n\nI was going to do it. I was going to kill one of them. I cocked my arm back to throw the phone when I felt it vibrate.\n\nI pulled my arm down and looked at the phone screen. Private Number. There was no cell service out here. I swiped to answer. “Who is this?”\n\n“What do you want for dinner?” \n\nI knew that voice and cadence. I swallowed. Even more anger bubbled up from within me. “Who is this?”\n\n“What do you mean, baby?”\n\nI struggled to get my words out. “Whoever thinks this is funny is going home on the next transport.”\n\n“When are you going to be home?”\n\n“My wife is dead,” I screamed. “This isn’t funny. Who is this?”\n\n“We could have chicken, but I know we just had that. I can’t think of anything else though”\n\nBaked chicken breast with rice and broccoli was the last meal we had together. I began to sob. “How do you know that?”\n\nThe graduate students gathered around and gave me funny looks. One of them put her hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay, Professor?”\n\nI shrugged her off and began walking without a purpose. “Who is this?” I whispered.\n\n“It’s your little tulip. Are you okay, baby? I just want to make sure that there is something for you to eat when you get home.”\n\nThe called ended. \n\nI sank to my knees and looked at the blank screen. My cries echoed across the steppe as storm clouds gathered on the horizon. \n" ]

[ 2, 5, 8, 10, 12, 36, 43, 123 ]

[ "1420112848", "1420101428", "1420102795", "1420107294", "1420085821", "1420085761", "1420089350", "1420087651" ]

[ "Tim’s 2nd run this week. He usually does 3 but he’d worked extra shifts.\n*Round to the left and a slight right.*\n\nHe kept his pace steady and consistent as always.\n*Down the slope and…*\n\nInto a spider web, thick and new. His arachnophobia kicked in as he flailed and sprinted, eyes shut tight. Trying to escape his enemy’s trap.\n “Calm down.” A voice whispered from behind.\n\nHe stopped, froze in place. Spun around to find no one.\n “Stay still while I get down.” The same voice calmly spoke.\n*Get down? From where?*\n\nHe picked and ripped the web from his face, arms and body.\n*Fucking web, I hate this shit.*\n\nHe spotted a decent sized spider resting on the back of his hand remaining motionless. Tim screamed as if he’d been stabbed, swinging his arms, flicking at it, trying to get rid of it. \n “HEY! Stop! I won’t bite.”\n*Did that…? No.*\n “Stay still and let me speak.”\nHe froze again. Looked at the spider, still there.\n “I need to warn you.” It said.\n*Did that just…? No. That’s not possible.*\n “Did you just talk?” Tim asked.\n “Yes, all spiders can if you can hear.”\n “…How?”\n “Well we were once human, but we were banished from our bodies to these grotesque figures for our discovery.”\n “I need to drink more before I run.” Tim said to himself.\n “This is no hallucination. Lives depend upon this knowledge.”\n “Suuure they do. And I’m a god.”\n “Exactly. You are…”", "In class, with the psychology professor droning in her elderly monotone and the sun barely over the horizon, that fat grey squirrel was the only thing keeping me awake. It twitched perpetually on the maple branch outside the window, its tail almost like a candle flame flickering back and forth. And back and forth again. And again. Do something! I felt my eyelids droop once more to before-squirrel levels and sat up straighter, praying for a more interesting distraction to present itself.\n\n\"Excuse me.\"\n\nStomach having immediately plummeted to my toes, I made sure that the professor had not stopped her lecturing to address my inattention. No, impossible. Someone nearby? No, the girl directly to my right was still drooling on her laptop keyboard, notes having trailed off into a thousand semi-colons. \n\n\"Yes?\" I whispered into the air, heart pounding as my stomach nervously crawled its way back up my shins. \n\n\"You should pay attention. This lecture is important.\"\n\nWith a jolt of realisation, the squirrel's beady eyes locked with mine and it gave a tail twitch that could only be described as purposeful. \n\nI blinked. It blinked. \n\n\"What do you mean?\" I mouthed at the window, cringing as I saw the action in the reflection and turning it into a smooth nose scratch. Nope, no one’s talking to rodents here. \n\n\"He was right. But, remember, you didn't hear it from me!\" With an actual, honest-to-goodness wink, the squirrel scampered down the tree as if it hadn't just been telepathically squeaking words into my head.\n\nThe empty spot on the branch was hypnotising. I could only stare and imagine the same emptiness my mother would feel when the brain tumour was found, inevitable now with this evidence, and even summoned up the courage to begin thinking up the will. \n\nSuddenly, the girl beside me woke up with a snort and bolted upright, frantically, inefficiently, backspacing while ignoring the undo button in her panic. \"Can I borrow your notes?\" she pleaded. \"Worked late last night.\"\n\nI shook my head, more to clear out the thoughts of charity donations in my memory than to deny her my non-existent notes, but she took it as the latter anyways and turned to someone else. Then, as if emerging from a tunnel and the radio tuning in once again, the professor's words reached my ears. \n\nAnd I listened.\n\n\"...his findings were unfounded in science and paranormal in nature. Ian Stevenson's research into reincarnation clearly illustrates how confirmation bias can undermine a study's results. Moreover, there is...\"\n\nAnd I stopped listening because I'd just been cured of a brain tumour. \n\nHe was right." ]

[ 1, 5 ]

[ "1420124759", "1420115203" ]

[ "This is my **first time** doing a writing prompt as I am an aspiring part-time writer. I hope it's not too terrible and **constructive** criticism is greatly welcomed and encouraged!! :D\n______________________________________________________________\n\n\nThe stoic floor stares back at the child, his reflection seeming to reprimand him for throwing the chocolate pudding cup which signaled the beginning of a food fight.\n\n\"Food fights...stuffing kids into lockers...cursing the teachers out...geez, what haven't you done, Aiden?\" The principle slams a mile-long, pink trail of disciplinary notices on top of her cherry oak desk, covering the kid's face. \n\n\"Aren't you proud of yourself? Three packs of paper spent writing up your delinquencies. Perhaps, we should add bullying trees to the list as well?\" She said, hoping that her joke would create a light atmosphere, but the tension intensified as the child continues to stare at the floor with a tighter clench onto the chair. \n\nSeeing no results, her lungs sigh in defeated as her hand pressed onto eight thirteen, seventy-four, ninety-three. Aiden's left eye sneaks an upward glance when he hears Ms. Prynne loudly confirms his father will be arriving shortly. She easily slides into her chair and stares at Aiden's transcript.\n\n\"Your A's and B's definitely prove you aren't a typical meathead. So why the bad behavior?\" She raised her eyebrow.\n\nAiden's shoulders respond with uncertainty.\n\n\"Do you behave like this at home? Your parents wouldn't like to see this type of behavior from you, right?\"\n\nHis shirt prevented his reason from being coherent. \"Speak a bit louder, Aiden,\" Ms. Prynne waves her hand.\n\nHe raised his head barely enough for his response to be audible. \"My dad says that bullying is essential for children to experience survival of the fittest early.\"\n\nMs. Prynne's eyes widen in astonishment. This statement triggered memories of her desk being smeared with black paint and having tomato juice thrown on her white prom dress by a former graduate who preferred partying instead of studying, ditching class over attending class only in the end to hold himself back from graduating on time with the rest of the class. It ran through Ms. Prynne's mind that an excuse birthed from immaturity and ignorance would be utter by a seventh grader who seemed to be given a pass to act out. A knock on the door brought her focus back into the still office and the door was opened at the sound of open.\n\n\"Ms. Prynne, a parent is here for you,\" Ms. Malone notifies.\n\n\"Thank you. Please, bring them in.\" Ms. Prynne nods her head.\n\nShortly after, the galloping footsteps of the father entered the run and pulled his son into an embrace. \"Are you okay?\" He tenderly scans his son's face, neck, and arms for imperfections before pulling him into another hug. When he turns to face Ms. Prynne, both of their eyes flare up with the flames of remembrance that ignites from the wildfire that continued to burn to this day.\n\n\"Evelyn\" is the first word the father whispers.\n\n\"Devin Calloway.\" Ms. Prynne recalls.\n\nDevin nervously clears his throat and timidly sits next to Aiden. His eyes wanders across Ms. Prynne's office, noting her achievements placed around the room, with his eyes landing on Ms. Prynne's doctorate degree. \n\n\"Well, you should know why I called you down here. Your son started a food fight in the cafeteria hall and has committed a series of other offenses through the previous school years,\" Ms. Prynne presses her index finger down on the stack of lingering disciplinary notices to emphasize the other offenses that Devin was not aware Aiden had committed.\n\n\"Evelyn, I am sorry for the actions of my son,\" he solumnly places his hat over his heart. \"Aiden, I'm disappointed in you. You know your mother and I have taught you better than this,\" his voice gets louder and makes Aiden seep into the chair. \n\n\"Mr. Calloway, let me make it a point to exemplify praise for Aiden's academic standing,\" Devin receives the transcript from Ms. Prynne. \"Aiden's a smart student who knows that his bullying antics is immoral and will not be tolerated at this school; however, I can't help but question that the reason why Aiden is allowed to act like this is because-\"\n\n\"Because what? You think my wife and I give him permission to behave like this,\" the transcript begins to wrinkle as Devin's grip tightens in annoyance.\n\n\"Perhaps not your wife, but I have no reasons to doubt that *you* allow him to do so,\" Ms. Prynne gently taps her thumb on her chin. \"I believe your defunct motto still stands as 'it is essential for children to experience survival of the fittest as early as possible',\" Devin bites his bottom lips and twiddle his fingers.\n\n\"No, wait,\" he scoots to the edge of the seat. \"You're taking things out of context, Evelyn. They're kids, they're just having fun.\"\n\n\"I see nothing fun with a child being imprisoned within a five by six locker for no reason or a cafeteria I expect to be clean and sanitary not only for your child, but for the rest of the students at this school to have a glob of mashed potatoes smeared across the wall.\"\n\n\"In this case, they should be called *smashed* potatoes,\" he chuckled nervously before looking away from Ms. Prynne while adjusting his perfectly buttoned collar. \n\nMs. Prynne's chin rested on her intertwined fingers. \"If you would try to be an adult for once, Mr. Calloway, then you too would realize the ridiculousness of your past actions.\" She continued after calibrating her glasses onto her face. \"I have giving Aiden warnings and detentions countless times, but it looks like it's time for him to gain an understanding of just how dangerous his actions have been.\"\n\nShe hands Devin a newly filled disciplinary form. Devin leans into the slip, spotting Aiden's punishment.\n\n\"A week of suspension? Come on, Evelyn!\" He flails his arms in the air and stares in disbelief at Ms. Prynne as his arms plopped lifelessly onto the chair's armrests. \"That's too harsh!\"\n\n\"Too harsh? Your son has had plenty of opportunities to get suspended. Be fortunate that *ALL* he got was only a week's suspension.\"\n\nMs. Prynne's arms crossed and her back reclined onto the chair, viewing Devin slightly shake in the seat while looking at Aiden's disciplinary form. \n\n\"I will be expecting a transfer form to arrive in my mailbox by next week.\" In a swooping motion, Devin headed towards the door. \"Let's go, Aiden.\"\n\nFollowing his father's command, Aiden looked back at Ms. Prynne to see her face him with a smile. It wasn't a smile that taunted the young child nor belittled him. It was a smile that identified and giggled at the lack of understanding and hoped for understanding to be achieved. \n\nWalking behind his disgruntled father who was reporting the meeting to his mother, Aiden looked at him and smiled.", "Judy Morell hated these kinds of meetings. A predictable, three-course meal: they always started off with a bitter melange of exaggerated shock and indignation, followed by a hearty plateful of defensiveness and denial, topped off by vague threats involving \"boards\" and \"superintendents\", with undertones of outrage and blackberry. She hated these meetings most of all because, more often than not, the problem was not the student.\n\nSamantha was not always like this. She had been one of the best and brightest in middle school, but something had happened in the transition from 8th to 9th grade, and now she had become a more challenging student.\n\n**rap rap rap**\n\nThree knocks at the door. Ms. Morell imagined the knuckle that made the sound. The sound had been too harsh for her comfort. Perhaps it was bravado. Perhaps trepidation.\n\nShe opened the door and welcomed Samantha and her father into her room. She smiled at Samantha, who by now had become aware of just how real her trouble was. She sported downtrodden eyes and sagging shoulders. *Rare to see*, thought Ms. Morell.\n\nShe greeted Samantha's father, though felt uncomfortable with something about him. Perhaps it was his general posture, perhaps his shuffling gait. Perhaps it was neither and Ms. Morell would simply rather be at home baking muffins.\n\nHe introduced himself, and Ms. Morell felt a little more uncomfortable. She felt her heartbeat deepen, a tightness in her throat. She started to feel humid in the middle of her back and underneath the plastic frame of her glasses. Her frames slid slightly forward on the bridge of her nose, and she pushed them back. She knew him. She remembered his voice, his taunting in class. The way he would try to disparage her in front of her teachers, classmates, friends. That one time he actually pushed her..\n\nMs. Morell and Samantha's dad opened the conversation at the same time. They both stuttered, then apologized and asked the other to proceed. Ms. Morell took the chance. She liked to feel in control of these sorts of meetings. She was surprised, though, that he had apologized in the first place. *Definitely trepidation*, she thought.\n\nSamantha's dad hadn't recognized her. *Bullies never do*, she thought, *it's always about themselves..* she caught herself in this thought, and remembered that she had forgiven him long ago in her heart, as a way to move on and not allow him to control her feelings. She wondered, *how long does forgiveness last?*\n\n*Tell me about yourself*, she suddenly blurted out to Samantha's father. *How was your own grade school experience?* Her heart quickened, her eyes widened, she bit her lip. *Why does it feel exciting so suddenly? Because he has no idea who I am!*\n\nHe mumbled some words about it being ok, how he doesn't have many memories of it overall. Ms. Morell was now legitimately excited. Her mind sparked off fun and intriguing ways of playing with his mind, of maybe even trying to embarrass him, just a little, in front of his Samantha.\n\nShe caught herself. *I forgave him*, she repeated. Deep breaths slowed her heart down. She had missed what Samantha's dad had said, but it didn't matter. The moment was hers to keep, her secret and her fleeting moment of mischievousness. And with the twinkling smile of that moment a new, happy memory, Ms. Morell started to discuss Samantha's recent trouble at school.", "Jonathan Mills was the spitting image of his father, right down to the small square fingernails and the eyelashes that were long beyond belief.\n\nMelissa knelt beside the boy, fighting the urge to yell. He had spent recess following one of the second graders about the playground, throwing pebbles and insults at her in equal share. \"Jon, last time you threw rocks at Cleo, I told you that I would have to call your parents if it happened again.\"\n\nJon stared at her through his little round eyes. To his credit, he didn't look like he was going to cry. His father would have thrown a tantrum. Melissa sighed. \"Let's go find Mrs. E, okay?\" They walked together across the playground. Jon kicked up clouds of sand with each step and Melissa cursed herself for having worn heels on recess duty. Mrs. Ellis was lining her class up outside her classroom door. Jon ran to his spot in line, pushing his way through the other kids. Melissa handed Mrs. Ellis the disciplinary form she had filled out for him, then made her way around the school to her office.\n\nIt was such a shame, she thought, that Jon had turned out like his dad. Jonathan Mills, Sr., had preferred hair-pulling and menacing threats to beat down his victims. He'd had a so-called gang, three other boys who added to the torment. Melissa remembered them well. *\"Missy, sissy,\"* they would scream as they chased her. Once they had cornered her by the basketball hoops and cut off one of her pigtail braids.\n\nShe sank into her desk chair and pulled up the school directory on her laptop. She scrawled Jonathan Mills' number onto a sticky note. One, two, three times she double-checked the numbers. There was no number for Mrs. Mills, she noted. Had she ever met Jon's mom?\n\nShe dialed the number quickly. Jonathan Mills picked up after three rings. \"How can I help you.\" His voice was harried.\n\nShe realized she had been holding her breath. \"Mr. Mills? This is Principal Stevens, from the elementary school?\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Your son has been bullying some students and we're concerned. Is there a time you could come meet with me and his teacher after school this week?\"\n\nFour hours later, Jonathan Mills stormed through the door of her office. Melissa hastened out of her chair to shake his hand. His handshake was weak. \"Good afternoon,\" she said. Emma Ellis, bless her heart, chose that moment to knock. \"Sorry I'm late. Good to see you again, Mr. Mills,\" she said dryly.\n\n\"Jon is in the car. Can we make this quick?\" The man had nerve.\n\nMelissa let Emma do the talking while she eyed Jonathan Mills. She was no longer afraid of him. There were more lines around his dark piggy eyes than the last time she'd seen him. She wasn't even sure if he recognized her from his grade school tyrant days; nowadays, she wore a new last name, a darker hair color, and the confidence born of being head of a school. \n\n\"But he continues to act up,\" Emma was saying. \"We want to be certain he has a good support network at home.\"\n\nMr. Mills' eyes darted about. \"I have to work a lot.\" He cleared his throat and closed his eyes for a few seconds. \"You know, when I was in school, if a little boy picked on a little girl, he had a crush on her.\"\n\n\"There's a difference between teasing and bullying,\" Emma said firmly. \"Cleo has bruises from where your son hit her with rocks.\"\n\n\"What doesn't kill you....\" he trailed off. \"Look, I'll talk to my son. Is there anything else?\"\n\n*You bastard*, Melissa wanted to say. She held her tongue. Jonathan Mills left her office without another word, shoulders bowed.\n\n\"I'll spend more time with Jon. I don't want him to get held back,\" Emma mused. \"At least his grades aren't getting worse. His family life doesn't seem to be helping him succeed. He's probably a good kid, deep deep down.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Emma, I'll keep an eye on him, too.\" \n\nEmma nodded and left Melissa alone in her office. The walls were painted this godawful grey color; why hadn't that bothered her before? She felt defeated somehow. Mr. Mills hadn't been outright rude. He was a sorry man, a former bully with nothing but a dead-end job and a receding hairline. She had been his victim, but she hadn't been beat by him: she had a career, a family, a smile on her lips most days. So why did she feel like she'd lost? \n\nShe knew the answer when, a week later, father and son were seated in her office, both of them scowling from beneath their impossible eyelashes.", "When he walked in, I felt crushed. The boy's father was a gloomy man. A walking husk of a human being. Without a need for introductions, he spoke with a gruff voice and a strict intention. \n\n“Where's my boy?” \n\nIt was like watching a stray dog bark at you. I quickly explained to him the 5 day suspension and handed him his pink slip without another word. His son came out, red-eyed and flustered. \n\n“You think I have the time to fuckin' be here?” He growled at the child as they sequentially left.\n\nThis sort of thing happened a few times before. I noticed the pupil returning to school only to cause more disruption with each suspension. He ended up in my office on a regular basis, treating other students the way his father kept me. But I held back from calling one day.\n\n'Sir please don't call my Dad.” He wept to me one day, and it all became clear. His behavior drastically improved with each day. I remember when his Father was just like him and made a choice to dial Childrens Service's. Maybe someone should have done that for him.", "Mrs Joy? Darren's dad is here to see you finally.\n\nThank you Janice, please show him in.\n\nThe memories flood back in like a ten ton hammer. Joy Joy the boy toy. She realizes her face must surely be showing the sheer terror she feels and quickly tries to reclaim her demeaner and dignity.\n\nMr Thompson... please take a seat and make your self comfortable. She hoped that the look on her face wasnt as apparent as she thought. The countless memories kept trying to invade her thoughts mercilessly. \n\nWelllll.. if it isnt Mrs Joy. Long time no see. he said smuggly. I hear my son has got him self into some kind of trouble again. If I drove down here for some silly shit again. You realize how much paid vacation time I'm having to use for this?\nThird time this month. He stared at her from across the desk as if it were her fault he had to be here. \n\nThe condescending tone in his voice and the look in his eyes. It gnawed at her confidence. All the years and work to get here. It was all gone in that instance. All she could hear was Joy Joy the boy toy over and over. They pushed her down, knocking her books from her hands. She had cried then. Never knowing why they tortured her.\n\nSir... she paused, wondering if he was going to continue his rant. The problem is that your son has what seems is issues with a few of the other children in his grade. He mashed his hands into the victims mashed potatos and then flicked the food into his face before calling him and I quote \"Fatass\". \n\nIf you ask me my son has probably helped that boy some. He may even go on a diet now. Have you seen that boy? He's huuuge. Darrens father made a pig face by pushing his nose up and inflating his cheeks. Look at how it helped you. All the times in school didnt bother you none. If anything it made you stronger it seems. You probably owe me for most of your success because of my jokes. Next thing you know you will say my boy needs sensitivity training.\n\nJokes... You thought those were jokes? She stood walked around her desk picking up her laptop as she did. With two hands she slammed the laptop into the side of his head. The force of the impact so strong she thought she had broken his neck. Seeing he wasnt dead she grabbed his tie pulling him close. She planted one foot square in the middle of his chest twisting the heel to cause pain. \n\nYou.. thought... that... was... FUNNY? she screamed into his face.\n\nShe snapped back from her private little fantasy to reality. The apple doesnt fall far from the tree I see. Your son has two options as I see it. Expulsion or fifteen months of sensitivity training. The ball is now in your hands so to speak Mr Thompson. \n\nJanice Please show Mr Thompson out please. She said as she stood and walked to her door. \n\nBut.. he started to say. She interrupted. Good day Mr Thompson. \n\nBut... he started again. I said Good day sir. she returned to her work. \n\n\n", "Ted stared heatedly across the table at the smug, self-assured father sitting before him. No, more than that -- this man wasn't just another parent to a troubled teen like he was used to, this man was something more.\n\nYears of verbal and physical abuse cycled through his head. Black eyes and scratches left by slammed locker doors, mornings of dread and nights of regret, all flowing back through the analog of time. Sitting before him was none other then Darren McDougal, the young man who had single-handedly made Ted's teen years a living hell. How did he not see the similarities between this man and his son? It was like he had produced a clone of himself to come back and haunt the man he could no longer bully.\n\n\"Well Ted, long time no see.\" Darren's smile twitched just a little more broad, his canine teeth becoming part of that smile. \"What's it been, twenty years now? Time could've been a little kinder to you! Just joking, of course, no need to go getting offended. Now what's this I hear about Michael being in trouble?\"\n\nTed could feel the red creeping into his face from the neck up. It was like rage was filling his body from the floor up with hot, liquid fire. The subtle jab at his appearance had only solidified his notion that Darren had not changed a bit. Taking a deep breath and remembering his position in all of this, Ted put on his best authoritative voice and began.\n\n\"Well Darren, we're more then a bit worried about Michael. He's very often distracted in class, but worse than that he distracts others. He often has outbursts in the hallway or lunch room, and I'm sure you must've seen the multiple notices sent home about physical altercations between him and other students...\" Ted trailed off for a moment, waiting for recognition.\n\n\"Oh, those bits o' paper? I didn't pay them a lot of mind! Boys will be boys, and Michael is just roughing around a little bit. Maybe if kids weren't so sensitive these days, they'd have an easier time of it!\"\n\nTed glowered, the anger inching just a little bit further into his cheeks.\n\n\"Now Darren, we both know I can't let this sort of thing continue on. Michael's already had three suspensions this year for fighting, and other parents have come to the school to complain about him jumping their boys on his way home. Then there was that incident with Lucy Duke...\" Ted trailed off, brow furrowed. The Lucy incident would have been much worse if Greg Leeman hadn't happened upon the two. \"All in all, somethings gotta give. We think the boy needs anger management, at the very least.\"\n\nTed eyed Darren as the man shifted forward in his seat, suddenly affecting a much more aggressive posture than before. His eyes had narrowed, and he locked Ted in a sharp gaze that pinned him in place.\n\n\"Now you see here, Ted. No one is going to be taking my boy to any sort of crack pot anger management, or therapy, or anything of the like. You can tell these other parents to shove their complaints up their arses, because all he is doing is being a healthy teen boy! There ain't nothing wrong with that, and I don't appreciate you all trying to parent MY son!\" The last line he punctuated by slamming a fist down onto the desk, his defense laid out bare.\n\nTed stared quietly at Darren for a minute or so, leaning back in his chair and breathing evenly. Through Darren's tirade he had begun to realize something, something that had washed a sense of cool calm across him and tamped down the anger that was rising inside of him. It all came down to one simple fact.\n\nDarren couldn't hurt him anymore. Darren had no power.\n\n\"Darren, if Michael has one more incident with us, he'll be expelled. Get your boy some help, or he's going to end up in Juvie. Or worse. If you have anything to say about that, you can take it up with Principal Winters, or the school board.\"\n\nGathering up his papers in a dismissive gesture, Ted stood and moved to the back of the room to gather his bag and his teaching plan for the next day. When he snuck a glance back he caught the image of Darren working his jaw silently before standing with his fists balled. Ted's whole body went stiff as he expected some retaliation, maybe even an attack. He was only able to breathe again when Darren whirled, stomping his way noisily out of the classroom and slamming the door on the way out.\n\nThis time history wouldn't repeat itself, if Ted could do anything about it. He made a mental note to send along guidance councillor recommendations, and then grabbed his keys to lock up.", "**This is my first writing prompt for the 365 day challenge, please be gentle**\n \n\"James, your behavior is unacceptable. We do not place our hands on others without their permission, do you understand?\"\n \nThe little boy stared at the floor, clearly uninterested in what I was telling him.\n \nThis was not an uncommon occurrence. Young children often bullied one another, not always with any intention. My father once told me, \"Samantha, people don't always have a reason for what they do. Sometimes people are just nasty to one another because they are hurting. Other times, they are simply envious. But we can't let it keep us from our own happiness. Only you can keep yourself from that.\" \n \nThose words carried me through my darkest times, and I wouldn't be where I am today without them. As an educator, it is my job to impart wisdom such as that unto others. In this case, however, I was unsure how to react. James had been in here three times now, each time for the same reason.\n \n\"James,\" I repeated. \"Look at me.\"\n \nHe looked up with a face like a defiant prisoner of war, arms crossed and brow furrowed.\n \n\"You need to stop hitting these girls. I don't know what else to say that I haven't said already, so I had Ms. Brown call your father. He should be here any minute.\"\n \nThat line usually struck terror into the hearts of ten year olds, but James just looked out the window and muttered, \"Whatever.\"\n \n*Knock knock*\n \n\"Come in,\" I said. Hopefully loud enough to be heard through the door. \n \nIt opened and Ms. Brown peeked in, \"James' father is here, should I send him in?\"\n \nI smiled, \"Yes, Tracy. Thank you.\"\n \nShe smiled back at me and opened the door wider, then turned around to call the father in.\n \n\"Mr. Castle, you can go in now.\"\n \n\"Please, darling, call me Ethan.\"\n \nThat name, combined with that voice, made something click in my brain. Ethan Castle... It couldn't be. Then he walked through the door.\n \n\"Sam? Is that you?\" He said with an astonished look on his face.\n \nI paused. He was grinning now. Collecting myself, I stood up and extended my hand to greet him.\n \n\"Ethan,\" I stammered, \"When did you move to Austin?\"\n \nHe reached out and grabbed my hand firmly, shaking it. Then he sat down next to James, placing his hand on the boy's head.\n \n\"We moved in last month, but I have always loved this city.\"\n \nI paused again. Taking an opportunity to collect himself, Ethan put his arm around James and whispered, \"Hey, buddy. How's it going?\" The boy kept staring away from us. I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, preparing for what was coming next. \n \n\"Ethan, your son has been acting up lately and I wasn't sure what else to do. I prefer not to punish children too severely, but he can't keep hitting and pushing the girls around.\"\n \nEthan quickly looked away from his son and up at me. It was subtle, but an unmistakable look of shock had shown on his face as he looked up at me.\n \nI continued, \"The next time it happens, I will be required to suspend him and I don't want to do that. I'm trying to understand why he's doing it, but he won't talk to me.\"\n \nThe man looked down for a moment. He didn't look much older than what I remembered from High School. His hairline had receded slightly, but not enough to say he looked older than 35. He still had thick, black hair, only now it was accompanied by stubble and some light wrinkles. Ethan looked up at me, now a look of concern on his face. He took his arm from around his son and looked at the boy.\n \n\"James, you can't put your hands on other people. It's not okay to hit others, especially girls. If you have a problem with someone, talk to me.\"\n \nJames kept staring out the window and away from us, that look of anger still on his face.\n \n\"James, I'm talking to you.\" He said sternly. \"Am I going to have to take away the Gameboy?\"\n \nThat got his attention.\n \n\"You can't do that!\" James shouted at his father.\n \n\"I can and I will. I'm telling you not to hit girls. Apparently, you have been doing that a lot lately so we need to make sure it doesn't happen again. If it happens again, I will take the Gameboy.\"\n \n\"But they were mean to me!\"\n \n\"That doesn't make it okay to hit them.\"\n \n\"But you hit mom!\"\n \nMy jaw dropped. Ethan's eyes widened. James stared defiantly at his father, who seemed ready to raise his fist and beat the boy. But before I could say anything, Ethan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He slowly exhaled after holding it for a few seconds, and then opened his eyes again. The boy struggled at first as his father wrapped his arms around him, but then submitted to the embrace.\n \nEthan kissed his son on the head, \"James, I'm sorry. I made a mistake. But I want you to learn from my mistakes, not repeat them.\"\n \nJames began to cry. \"But she deserved it!\"\n \nEthan pulled back and placed his hands on James' shoulders. \"Maybe. But violence won't solve anything. You should never intentionally hurt others.\"\n \n\"But she hurt us!\" he cried.\n \nEthan gave his son a kiss on the forehead and embraced him again. \"I know, I know. But we'll be okay. I promise.\" James' crying subsided as he nestled his head in his father's chest.\n \nThe man kissed his son on the head and then pulled him away. \"Why don't you go outside and sit with Ms. Brown. Sam and I need to talk for a moment.\" He handed the boy his phone. \"You can play with this while you wait, okay?\"\n \nThe boy nodded somberly, wiping away the tears from his eyes. Ethan placed his hand on the James' face. \"I love you.\"\n \n\"I love you too, daddy.\"\n \nJames walked out of the room, and Ethan turned to look at me as the door shut behind him.\n \nEthan smiled slightly. \"I'm actually glad that you heard that, Sam.\"\n \nReally?\" I tilted my head. \"Why?\"\n \n\"Because I owe you an apology.\"\n \n\"For what?\"\n \n\"You know what, Sam.\"\n \nI stared down into my lap, then glanced at the scar on my foot. He was right. I knew exactly what he was talking about.\n \n\"But why now, Ethan?\"\n \n\"Because James is going through something similar to what I went through. When I was fifteen, I found out that my mom was cheating on my dad. So I told him.\" He paused.\n \n\"You don't have to tell me all of this, I understand.\"\n \n\"No, I need to. I won't feel right until I tell you.\"\n \nI stared at him, the man who had tormented me as a child seeming as if he would fall apart any moment. \"Okay,\" I said. \n \n\"That night, after I told my dad what I saw, he confronted her in the kitchen. They yelled at each other, arguing for what seemed like hours. Then my mom said to him, 'You're a pathetic loser, at least Jerry has a career! While you're stuck at home all day writing your stupid stories, he's out there working!' My dad slapped her, broke down in tears, and walked upstairs. She stormed to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer as I sat in the living room, crying quietly so that they wouldn't notice my presence and take their anger out on me. A few hours later, my mom went upstairs to talk to him. There was a moment of silence, and then all I could hear was her screaming. I ran upstairs only to find my dad hanging from the ceiling fan.\"\n \n\"Oh my god, Ethan. I'm so sorry. I had no idea.\"\n \n\"No, it's okay. That was a long time ago. But it's not okay that I took my anger at my mom out on you. A lot has happened in my life that has made me realize my mistakes, and of all the people who I mistreated I think you are the most deserving of an apology.\"\n \n\"Thank you,\" I was staring at the scar again. I looked back up at him. \"That... that really means a lot. But what does it have to do with James?\"\n \nEthan looked down at the floor. \"About six months ago I caught my wife with another man. In our own house, no less.\" He paused and looked back up at me. \"We were arguing about it when James walked in and saw me slap her. It was my first violent outburst since high school, and I felt ashamed immediately after. But she stormed out before I could say anything.\"\n \n\"I'm so sorry, Ethan, I don't know what to say... is that why you moved here?\"\n \nHe nodded. \"Yeah, I wanted a fresh start for him. For me. For both of us.\"\n \nI smiled sympathetically. \"Well, I'm going to excuse James from school today. Not a suspension, just permission to be dismissed early. I think you and James should spend the day together.\"\n \nHe smiled at me, blinked away the water that had built up in his eyes, and stood up. \"Thank you so much, Sam. I wish I could make it up to you more.\"\n \n\"You can. Just take care of James,\" I said. \"I don't want any more incidents when he comes back, do you hear me?\" I jokingly scolded.\n \n\"Oh you don't have to worry, I'll make sure of that.\" Ethan laughed and paused, staring into my eyes for a moment longer than I would expect. \"Maybe we can grab coffee and catch-up sometime.\"\n \nI stuttered, not certain how to respond. I thought back on the boy who had tortured me, who had made me want to die. I saw his face in my mind, but when I looked at him in front of me now I just could not make the connection. These were two entirely different people. I smiled and said to him, \"I... I would like that very much.\"\n \nHe smiled, and I reached out to shake his hand. But he shook his head and walked around the desk to give me a hug. \"I'm glad that we met again,\" he said. Then he pulled back, looked into my eyes, and smiled.\n \nAfter Ethan had left, I sat at my desk for a while. A few calls came in, but I told Ms. Brown to handle them for me. I stood up and walked over to the window, staring out across the playground at the children playing. Instead of anxiety, I now felt relief.\n \n\"Thank you, Ethan.\"\n \n-001", "Carol waited in her office, seated in her leather chair that her husband had gotten her for her 48th birthday. On her desk was a computer that she barely poked at, a calendar, a couple of folders, and a mocha candle that she couldn't light because of the policies. But still, she liked to have it sit there, opened, some of the scent still managing to find its way into the cramped office air. It sat there, in a glass case. Its tin lid was off somewhere forgotten, probably in one of her desk drawers. \n\nA silhouette appeared behind her frosted door window, darkening the backwards letters of her name. Her stomach tightened, as it did all the other times she had to have a meeting with a parent. Seven years as a principal and that constricting feeling still played with her intestines whenever these meetings had to happen. She had spent the several last minutes saying the name quietly to herself, as to make sure not to flub up the pronunciation even though it wasn't all that complicated of a last name. *Mr. Callahan, Mr. Callahan, Mr. Callahan*. \n\nThe door opened, and in stepped a giant of a man; he was wearing a red flannel shirt, faded blue jeans, combat boots, and a red trucker's cap. He had blonde hair that curled out from underneath the hat. It curved over and behind his ears. \n\n\"Mr. Callah-\n\nAnd she froze, taking notice of his eyes: one was brown and the other was blue. She hadn't seen eyes like that since the 4th-\n\n\"Carol? Oh shit!\" He said loudly. The secretary just outside of the office turned to look, but her reaction was cut short when Callahan shut the door behind him. \"Oh, my, God! It's been what, twenty something years?\" He sat down in one of the two chairs that framed her desk, quickly leaning back into it and propping his feet onto her table, almost kicking over her candle in the process. \n\n\"Something like that,\" Carol muttered, intestines feeling as if they were locked in a vice. *Had he changed his last name? Or had it always been Callahan?*\n\n\"So this is what you've been doing, huh? A fuckin' principal, I should've been able to guess that, ya?\" His breath was heavy with the smell of cigarette smoke. When she looked into his eyes, she could see piles of sleep-grit, accumulating there in the corners because this bastard of a man probably still never showered. \n\n\"Well, this isn't really about me now, I've got to talk to you about your-\n\n\"Hey, girl, you remember what we used to do?\"\n\nThe vice on her stomach loosened enough for Carol to vomit into her mouth a little. She swallowed it down, hoping Callahan hadn't noticed. She quickly recomposed herself, and ignored his question. \n\n\"I need to talk to you about your son, he has-\n\n\"Oh God, I still think about that sometimes, going back behind the bleachers, you and me, that was some fucking sick-\n\n\"Please, Mr. Callahan,\" she said, voice wavering. The taste of vomit on her tongue turned her entire mouth acidic. \"I don't want to talk about that, we need to talk about your-\n\nHe removed his feet from her desk and stood, slowly circling around towards her, \"Are you still into that kinky shit?\"\n\nCarol stood, \"Please, sit down, we need to talk about your-\n\nAnd he raised a hand, as if he were going to caress her cheek. \n\nShe grabbed a hold of her candle, and slammed it into the side of his face. It shattered in her hand, but she still gripped it tightly, shards of glass slicing into her palm. He fell down to the office floor, letting out an almost comical **UNF**, and Carol fell on top of him, bringing down the spiked candle, down and down again into his nose, into his forehead, into his temple. \n\nShe felt hands grab onto her shoulders and rip her away from the bloodied man who had made her school years a living nightmare. Her arm still rose and fell, still trying to bring any kind of pain to that man. It wouldn't even come close to matching what he had done to her, but she wanted to try. Oh she wanted to try. \n\nHer flailing arm brought the busted candle down into her own thigh, glass daggers puncturing deep into her muscle, and she yelped and let go. \n\nThe secretary had her in her arms, and was asking her questions that she couldn't quite hear. \n\n**Are you alright? What happened?**\n\nCarol found that her throat was raw when she tired to answer. She didn't realize she had been screaming the entire time. " ]

[ 1, 2, 2, 3, 7, 14, 15, 52 ]

[ "1420151129", "1420141618", "1420143694", "1420143750", "1420136419", "1420140308", "1420143935", "1420138847" ]

[ "Hi! Oh gosh, is that how people start these things off? Man I am not good at this. Well, I'm a dude, although you probably knew that. Darn it, focus, okay, well, truthfully, not so good at this thing. I'm making this because I'm really not someone whose real knowledgeable about how dating works and that seems to not be an attractive thing at my age, and well, I need to stop saying well. Anyway, I'm really not knowledgeable about this sort of thing and am making this because maybe there's some lady out there that values that kind of thing?\n\nAnyway, hobbies, way too many video games. Seriously, I hope you like Starcraft. Not big on travel, hope that's not a deal breaker. Like hanging out with kids, though not in a creepy way. Probably shouldn't have wrote that. I'm real good at Netlfix! You seen those advertisements for the Hulu Guru? I'm the Netflix Ninja! Other than that, walks are kind of nice, and I'm not completely horrible at cooking. Have I mentioned I'm not good at this?\n\nLooking for? Not really sure, I guess I'll find out as I go? Maybe you'll find out you're what I'm looking for?", "Hello! I wonder what alluded you to my page. As you can tell by my profile, my name is Paul. I do figure photography for a living. Well, I think I do figure photography. I have no idea how to take figure photography and I never have a willing model. So instead, I take photos of myself naked, doing whatever. I have to admit, I look pretty good. What inspired me to do figure photography is when I first saw my sister naked. I decided to take a photo for her. Her curves brought had a distinct definition. I was instantly an artist. So in my spare time when I was growing up, I would sneakily take photos of my sister naked, whenever I could.\nI could use a model, like you. Just send me a nude photo first, then I can approve you or not. Look forward to doing \"business\" with you. ", "Hi! So I guess you're here because you liked my photos and thought you'd take a deeper look, which is great because I spent a *lot* of time photoshopping and filtering them.\n\nI'm just your average guy - I walk by the gym sometimes and think about going in, and I read a lot, but not because I enjoy it. I heard women like a guy who reads so now I carry a book everywhere with me. I also really like traveling, but only if that means commuting from my house to my office. I also heard that women like guys who like to travel, that's why I said that, but I actually hate to travel, unless you like to travel I guess, I'll just be in a really bad mood the whole time.\n\nI work in a dead end job, but since I know most people aren't into that if you ask I can say that I am very ambitious and am pursuing a higher position, but really I have very few aspirations. I mostly aspire to play more video games.\n\nPlease message me, and once you do I will definitely Google what I can find of your name and backwards image search your photo, and maybe we can go out! Except I'm pretty financially constipated so I'm going to make a move towards the check but I secretly want you to take it, so we can set that precedent. Anyway, yeah, message me, I'll just be here staring at my profile and hitting refresh.", "Hi!\n\nMy name is Tom, I’m 35 and I came here to meet some beautiful women!\nI am 6’2 and technically overweight at 230 pounds, but I think that’s just because my doctor is a super skinny freak who is intolerant of people with some flab. \n\nI work for a logistics company and make $55,000 a year, which is ok but its not like I’m rolling in the dough you know? I hate my job but its all good because every now and then I’ll spit in my boss’ coffee and get him his morning cup – it’s a double whammy cuz then he’s thinking that I’m being nice!\n\nIn my spare time I enjoy fishing, fantasy football and masturbation. Fishing is great – I think it’s a lot of fun to spend time chilling on a boat, even if it might be stolen.\n\nMy fantasy team was amazing this year! I had Aaron Rodgers, Antonio Brown, and Le’Veon Bell. I lost in the finals because Bell decided to put up a dud, but I still finished better than my asshole brother-in-law Brian. \n\nAs for masturbation – Im a big fan of Pornhub, but every now and then I’ll just hit up the old spank bank and think back to my first girlfriend, who had amazing tits. I wonder what happened to her. \nOutside of that I spend a lot of time playing video games and doing guy stuff. \n\nMessage me if you want a cute, cool dude! I’m gonna cut to the chase and say that I am only looking for busty blondes. See you out there ladies!", "Pinocchio's online profile:\nAge: 30...ok, 35\nHeight: 5 11 ³/⁴ by today's measurement. (I measure myself every day, lest I miss some shrinkage)\nWeight: 213.27 lbs. I struggle with my weight, despite my detailed food journal. I'm planning on doing couch to 5k-I'm on day one.\nDescribe yourself: Tall-well, more average height (for a male) I guess. Brown eyes; the color of the silty part of a mud puddle. Black hair. I tried blonde once and it looked awful! Since then, I'm not a huge fan of blondes. \nI'm on the chubby side as I said before...working on it. I eat my emotions and went through a break-up a year ago that still makes me sad :(. I have my own place well ok, its in NY mom's basement- but its got its own bathroom! (I pay her $80 a month!!)\n\nLooking for [romance] : someone who has an apartment I could share", "I tried to talk to women in the physical world, but I think my heavy breathing scared them away, so I have decided to create this profile. My mother says I'm her special prince and that any princess would be lucky to have me.\n\nI recently started losing my hair and it really hit home how fleeting life is, so I really want to settle down fast. I'm not picky.\n\nOk, so I'm a little overweight, but I promise to suck it in as much as I can when I'm around you, which I hope will be always. I have not had sex before, but I am very proficient in masturbating, and I guess sex is the same but inside someone and you have your hand free.\n\nLike I said, I will probably say yes to anyone. But bonus points if you look like my mom [pic attached].\n\nI love you.", "Hello! Thank you for clicking. I'm an able-bodied, 36-year-old woman looking for my white knight. Or black knight, I'm not racist. Well. My father would kill me if I married someone of colour, but I'd be okay with it, and so would my mother. I think. I've never thought about it before. I guess, now that I'm thinking about it, I've only ever fantasized about white guys. Does that mean I'm racist? Maybe I just have a racist worldview. Anyway.\n\nI was voted ''least likely to improve'' in high school, a prophecy which has haunted me ever since. Not in an overly-affecting way, just in that little nagging way that sticks at the edges of your brain and keeps you awake at night, tossing and turning with fits of crippling anxiety. Despite these midnight 'episodes', I know I've improved since high school, even if my acne hasn't. And mother's sure I've improved... ''Heck, [I'm] on a dating site!'' she says. And she's right! Mother's always right. We're really on the same page about everything. She's my best friend, and if you don't like that you can go ''waddle on back to your own iceberg'', as she would say. \n\nIf you're going to message me, make sure you use proper grammar and spelling. I teach English and Literature at St. John's Wort Secondary School and have a zero-tolerance policy for extraneous commas and i-before-e-except-after-c rule breaking. Please be polite, also, as mother screens all my suitors. \n\nThanks, and have a, great day! :)", "Please don't send me dick picks, if I am interested I will let you know. I'm really just on here for my own validation. I mean, I complain to all of my friends about the terrible mail I get on here, but lets face it I've been on here a year and I still open my mail and I'm single. Please tell me I'm cute/sexy/whatever so that I can not respond to you and write you off for being overly forward and the use the confidence boost I get from that to ignore anyone in my league or worse who is actually interested in me and might be a viable match. FYI I think less of you because your on a dating site. I know that I'm on a dating site too but I'm an exception to that rule. And every other rule. If you do get to actually talk to me, look out for my emotional baggage. I have a SHIT TON of it. Usually I deal with it by binge drinking on the weekends and going to bars so that REAL guys can validate me. MY kik is southernbelle89. hmu. \n\nOR \n\nHi! I'm on here really just looking for a baby daddy. I want a real man. With a real job. And real money. This kid is not going to raise himself and it's only a matter of time before he realizes its weird he doesn't have a dad. I'm desperate and generally willing to lower my standards to get some security for my child and I. The upside is I'll be willing to trade sex just to keep you around. That's right I plan on meeting you and literally riding it out until I die. Or until my kid turns 18. It's a lot like prostitution but only within social contract. My hobbies include opening a new pack of cigarettes, working, and dealing with my screaming child in the line at walmart.", "**Username:** PleaseDon'tIgnoreMe_88\n\n**Other than appearance, what is the first thing that people notice about you?** Probably the overwhelming aura of loneliness surrounding me. Or the fact that I'm never alone. I'm very scared to be alone. I want to have a male near me or a posse of friends hanging on my every word. Sometimes I go home and cry because I'm lonely. I think I'm hot, but why do you all ignore me?!\n\n**What’s the most important thing you’re looking for in another person?** Financial security. I got caught in a teensy weensy Ponzi scheme a couple months ago, and I'm not entirely sure I can pay my rent this month, let alone the doctor's bill for my reoccurring visits due to yeast infections. \n\n**How do you typically spend your leisure time?** I really like laying around in sweatpants and stained shirts. I haven't actually done laundry in like three weeks, and I can't remember the last time I changed my sheets. That's usually what I'm doing if I say I'm busy. Laying on my couch watching too many episodes of Law and Order SVU. If my friends ask me to watch their children, I'll usually say I'm busy. See my last statement. If you ask me on a date, why would you, clearly I'm probably uninterested, I expect more from you than from myself, but I'll probably deny. Unless I haven't gone grocery shopping in a while and need dinner. But with that small Ponzi scheme fiasco, your chances are looking good!", "My name is Mark, and I am a body waxer. I enjoy helping people become less hairy. I have used the hair I have collected over the years to weave all sorts of textiles and even knitted a few sweaters out of it. I used to be a masseuse, but something about my skin being too scaly forced me to switch professions. \n\nI am six foot three and two hundred pounds. I used to play college football, but sat on the bench for all four years, never playing a single play. I tried out for mascot, but was beat out since I had problems with closed spaces. That is why I walk everywhere, though I do own three vehicles, so if you want to go out we can take my school bus, tractor trailer, or Hummer limo. You will need your class D license though, since I prefer to sit in the big open space in back.\n\nMy ideal woman is breathing. No really, the dead freak me out. Also she has to really like candles. I have so much wax left over, and let’s face it, it is better to reuse than to throw it away. I saved so much money last year on electricity. Otherwise I would like a woman who likes to spin or knit. \n\nMy other hobbies include mountain climbing and bear wrestling. Okay, not really, but I was told women like the adventurous type. I get most of my adventure grappling with hairy fat guys on my table, ripping off their chest hair. Now let me tell you, when they scream, that is fun. Of course that might be too much for you. I won’t ask you to help till at least our third date. \n\nI look forward to hearing from you. I promise I’ll bring you a sweater when we meet!\n" ]

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

[ "1420149688", "1420159747", "1420166557", "1420159388", "1420165722", "1420173688", "1420156291", "1420158909", "1420151215", "1420150291" ]

[ "EDIT: Spelling, grammar. \n\nWe haven't mastered our control everything yet. It has been a year since the 'Big CME of the Century'. Europe took the most of the damage and left tens of millions without power and access to most electronic equipment. They recovered fairly quickly though. \n\nThe last hurricane was 35 years ago and each year it gets more peaceful; stable. Weather adjustments aren't even talked about anymore due to their frequency these days. Earthquakes? Last one was 125 years ago. We even figured out that the ruling elite's profiting from war was holding the planet back. That's what really changed things. After the last war about 150 years ago everything changed. Problems that humanity faced for thousands of years began fading away into our nightmarish past.\n\nI'm a broadcast reporter with PNN (Primary News Network) but most other media agencies gave up decades ago. The various regional governments of the world decided to just have one global network that oversees getting the information out to the people. Most don't even bother to watch these days though. What was once a major industry that provided relevant and interesting topics has become a boring chore to those involved. We only do it to keep up with tradition really.\n\n*\"Tonight's top story, President Yen speaks to school children about the importance of their annual assessment exams.\"*\n\nBoring. Nothing new here. Same old reporting of useless and irrelevant info. No one cares anyway because virtually everyone passes with high marks. There is no real challenge or obstacle left in life. We just do our jobs to maintain everyone else and spend most of our time in pleasure and entertainments. What else is there to do when machines do all the hard work?\n\nHumanity just wants some adventure and excitement in their lives. Don't get me wrong, we aren't massively depressed or anything, we just want life to have more meaning like it used to. We reached for the stars and went as far as we dared. No, literally we did. We have colonies on Venus, Mars, and the Asteroid Belt. They do mostly mining to send resources back to Earth. Boring... We have the technology to go farther into space but most of humanity voted against it because it would cost too much risk in life. We didn't all agree with that of course but the majority rules. We are stuck with that decision for another 10 years before the term expires. Maybe the fourth time around we could see a reversal?\n\n*\"We have Lori Thompson from the TV show 'Yoga For Your Pets' with us tonight. She joins us via Holo-Chat...\"\n\nNot even TV shows are worth watching anymore. While doing my training for journalism we had a history class where they talked about the eventual banning of shows like 'Basketball Wives', 'COPS', 'Jerry Springer', and various other trashy shows. We evolved our technology, our minds, and our bodies but something was lost along the way. We just lost that spark somehow...\n\nThe year is 2195 and my name is Thomas Press and I'm one of the last journalists. \n\n---------------\n\n(This was just a on the fly story so bare with it if you please. Thomas' surname is an obvious side on his job. In this reality folks choose names that suit their professions. I'm actually a journalist in real life and I couldn't pass up the chance to play a little here with what the future could be. Cheers)\n\n\n", "“Good Evening folks, this is Elliot O’Connor coming to you live for the six o’clock news headlines.” I beamed with a false cheerfulness that I knew no one would pick up on. \n\n“The humpback whale that was beached on a Gold Coast shore during a two day ordeal has finally been rescued after several failed attempts.” I smiled hollowly as I read the text off the screen in front of me. *Could this be any more tedious?* \n\n“This rescuing marks the 200th safe rescue of a beached sea animal after the development of The New World, keeping the success rate strong at 100%. Witnesses at the scene say the atmosphere couldn't have been more joyous.” \n\n“In other news, a new chain of beautification stations are opening across the country and offer even more choice to the procedures that can be performed. The chain called ‘Pretty City’ has been endorsed by leading beauticians including Becca Mirabelli who says the stores are ‘revolutionary’. More information on the stores and their opening locations will be addressed later on in the show.” I continued maintaining my smile and bright tone, despite my desire to tear out my own eyeballs. Since the making of The New World, everybody underwent procedures to eliminate differences in aesthetic features to make us The People and not identify with any particular race. I will never respect anyone who undergoes these abominable surgeries that undermine our very beings. Filth. The lot of them. \n\n“Finally, Mr Carlisle has finally been reunited with his eight month old Siberian Husky puppy whom he lost four nights ago. This signals a happy ending to the second lost dog case in the country since the making of The New World.” I said with a wide plastic grin across my face. *Blegh.* \n\n“That’s all for the headlines ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. Stay tuned for more information coming up later in the show. This is Elliot O’Connor reporting live, Good Evening and Good Night.” I finished chirpily, keeping in character for as long as the camera was rolling.\n\n“Cut!” shouted the director to the camera crew who immediately stopped filming as the broadcast cut to the commercial break. \n\nI immediately schooled my face into a carefully perfected blank expression. It would do me no good to allow those around me to know of my plans. As far as they were concerned, I was a perfectly happy guy and an even happier news anchor. \n\n“You’re free to go for the night!” shouted the director to me. “I expect you here at 5 o’clock sharp tomorrow morning as usual.” \n\n“I’ll be here.” I said coolly as I said every night for the past 10 years before carefully making my way out of the building and to a shuttle that would take me home. \n\nThe news was a bunch of rubbish these days. There was nothing of quality to report ever since The New World was made. The idea of ‘peace’ and ‘freedom’ is blasted from every T.V., every radio and every mouth of every person in every country across the globe. It’s sickening. These people don’t even know what peace means. They don’t know how it feels to be free because The New World prevents anyone from thinking or feeling differently to how they broadcast that we should think and feel. The whole thing is nothing but repulsive propaganda aimed to make everyone think that because there is peace they are free. It is loathsome at best and worse still, it makes my job harder than ever before in history. But it doesn’t have to continue this way.\n\nI soon arrived to my apartment and began to carefully make preparations for the night to come. My best friend Matthew works in the archives of the old police department and last night I paid him a visit. Being relatively famous in this small town as the main news anchor, I was quickly offered a tour of the place. All weapons had been banned and destroyed as part of The New World all except for those in archives like the one I visited. I thought it would be harder but all it took was a bit of charming and some stealthy sneaking around and it was done. My plan was in motion. \n\nWearing gloves, I carefully placed the prohibited tools I had snatched in front of me on the blanket as I considered the items, deciding what I should use to begin my revolution. A pistol, a revolver and all the ammunition I could fit into the backpack I had managed to bring inside the archives. I decided on the pistol and carefully wrapped the things I would need in a sheet of fabric. They were such fools. Nobody would suspect me. \n\nI carefully put on my specially selected garb that it had taken months to acquire and adjusted the pistol into the concealed belt I had fashioned. Tonight I was going to change everything forever. I was going to start a revolution starting with my boss. It will be perfect. Nobody will see it coming. I’ll give The People a news story they’ll never forget. The year is 3666. I will make history. And I won’t stop at one. After I’m finished nobody will remember what the word peace feels like on the tongue. I will be unstoppable. Tonight, whether The People know it or not, I will be justice. \n\n“Farewell peace.” I whispered as I disappeared into the harsh, unforgiving night with my first real smile of the day steadily creeping across my face.\n" ]

[ 2, 3 ]

[ "1420185770", "1420191163" ]

[ "\"Oh this blue one is pretty!\" *Picks up mostly blue orb*\n\"It smells nice too!\" *Proceeds to put blue orb into mouth*\n\"Mmmmmmmm!\" *Continues to chew/suck on new found object*\n\"**Stop that honey you'll get sick**\"\n\"Okay mom..\" *Reluctantly takes toy out of mouth*\n", "I once had this game, that allowed you to create games. It was fun most of the time. The system gave you everything you needed, and left it up to your creativity. The \"games\" I made usually only took about an hour or two before I got bored, or couldn't think of anything. Finally, I decided to try something new.\n\nI took an entire 5 days to make this game. The settings allowed me to mess with the lighting, the terrain, the whole nine yards. So I spent 5 days perfecting it. Finally, I decided to make the npcs. That was pretty neat in of itself. I gave them a simple coding, to just go out, and advance my game. They made new npcs for me, and everything.\n\nSo now came the time, I created a bad guy. Give the game a storyline. So I placed him in the game, and it didn't mesh so well with the npcs.\n\nWhatever. I just gave them a new coding, and a new environment. It's kind of fun watching them automatically make sense of everything.\n\nAs time went on, I kept perfecting the game. Adding new structures, and new things, consistently. A lot of it was honestly interfering in certain events to make sure the game ran smoothly.\n\nFinally I decided to make my own character. I put roughly 33 hours of gameplay into it. I played perfectly until I finally died. So I respawned and took some time in game, making a few things, and assured the npcs that I'd be back later after perfecting the game a bit more.\n\nFor some reason, I lost interest after that. The game continues to run, but I'm not sure I like how it's turned out. I don't want to delete it, because I've put so much time into it. But I can't keep it running.\n\nI'll see how it turns out here in a bit. Otherwise I'll probably just delete it. " ]

[ 1, 2 ]

[ "1420179323", "1420190497" ]

[ "I woke. Today wasn't just any day, today was my tongue-day. My kin were sleeping still, so I pulled myself up, and ventured outside into the still-dark forest. The dry leaf litter crunched gently under my bare feet, the trees rustled gently in the morning's breeze.\n\n\"Amber!\" came Shale's dusty voice from behind me, I turned. Shale was in his 50s, and one of the best hunters in our tribe. Long glossy white hair was tied behind his head in a ponytail, and a smile was visible beneath his short beard.\n\n\"Today is your day.\"\n\nI nodded, smiling apprehensively. Then all of a sudden I was filled with nervous terror, and rushed made as if to hug him tightly before remembering his superiority. What if the tongues chose me? I would have to lose my family forever.\n\n\"Don't worry,\" he said comfortingly, patting my shoulder. \"It doesn't hurt much\" My eyes widened. \"Good luck.\"\n\nThe next few hours went in agony. I had until the sun rose, amongst the sleeping town, and the waking jungle. Tropical birds cawed harshly, as if laughing at me, and thoughts writhed madly around my head. Until at last, it was time. I almost hoped they would have forgotten me, the quiet girl who nobody noticed, but sure enough, at sunrise, the village awoke, and shepherded me to the table. The table was a remarkable place; a single stone, laid horizontally into the ground by nature's strong and mysterious hands, and the surface completely flat, like an eldritch alter in the forest. Shore enough, as we arrived from the north side, a group of tongues slithered their way out of the jungle, and congregated around their side of the rock. My mother took my hand silently out of the crowd for a few seconds, before I was taken by some of the young men of the tribe and laid on the table, and one of the tongues was placed onto my chest by what I could only believe was its own tribe's warriors. Then silence. All looked on with trepidation, now only the gods could decide my fate. When we joined, one of us, of the most strength would become the master, the other, the tool.\n\nThe slimy creature started to make its way up my neck, leaving a trail of saliva as it went. I tried not to breathe, staring up at the sky above. Over my chin, and up to my lips, I opened them, and it slipped gently in. Somewhere deep in my neck, a pain begun, a soft throbbing one, as it dug into my nervous system. The world looked on, and the silence beckoned.\n\nI reeled to my feet, choking, gasping for air, everyone rushed around.\n\n\"Amber?\" asked father Quartz\n\nSilence\n\n\"Yes\" I said.", "I woke to feel my tongue resting on my forehead. As I opened my eyes it bounded up to my bedside cabinet and retrieved my spectacles. I sat up in bed and slid them on as the tongue ran in excited circles on my duvet. Noticing that it was a little dry I took some moisturiser and massaged it along its glossy surface. It rippled with pleasure before rolling down the side of my bed and excavating a pack of flash cards. It swiped out a picture of a dog and tapped it.\n\nI waved my finger and shook my head. I sorted through the cards until I found a picture of a human. The tongue flicked the card away and slathered the dog card with a slick lick. \n\nIn the afternoon we went to the park and sat on a bench watching the ducks. The tongue lolled restlessly between flicking bread across the pond. A dog trotted along to us and curiously sniffed my tongue. I went to grab it but the tongue had already flipped itself into the dog's mouth. The dog ran in unsure circles before issuing this horrified \"woo-oof.\" I made chase but the dog had already run the length of the park. \n\nWhen I caught up, it's owner had opened the dog's jaws and was examining the tongues. As I approached she yanked out the tongue and rolling her eyes disdainfully passed it back to me. I took it and nodding my gratitude turned to leave. But this was not my tongue. It leapt out of my hand and attached itself in my throat. It tasted faintly of pavement and this unusual salty tang suffused my mouth. But it felt good. I turned back to the owner and shouted \"thanks\". \"Woof\", she shouted back.\n\n\n" ]

[ 3, 4 ]

[ "1420313283", "1420309137" ]

[ "'Hello, I'm the person who met you before, remember? A few days ago? he says. \n\nIn shock, you can't move. You can only stand there.\n\n'Who are you?'\n\n'I'm the guy you met a few days ago'\n\n'This is my house, not yours'\n\n'Can you please leave me alone?'\n\n'Alright. I will leave now'\n\nAnd we were gone\n\n(Note: you have to connect the dots yourself)", "There she was, mangled and disheveled. Her chestnut hair was brittle and hadn't seen a brush in weeks. That wasn't the worst of it though. \n\nHer eyes--my eyes, they were empty; two glass beads staring ahead. Oily skin puckered around them while tiny red and white pimples sprinkled her face. She had been sleeping in those same baggy jeans for weeks, and the grease stains only multiplied. \n\n*Why are you here?* I demanded while taking a protective step backwards. \n\nHer thin, cracked lips opened into a smirk, and parted just enough for me to see her yellowing teeth. \n\n*You can never get rid of me*. She scoffed, but the slight exhale exasperated her worn out lungs, and she coughed deeply. Wiping the escaped saliva away from her mouth with the sleeve of the tattered flannel, she stepped inside the door. \n\n*You know what I want. You know I need the fix. We both do.*\n\nI stared at her fearfully. How did she find me? I was sure I covered up my tracks this time. I relocated. I cleaned up. I got my life together and did everything they told me to. They told me she would go away. My heart quickened and I backed away. \n\n*P-P-Pl-Please. Just leave me alone. I told you I never wanted to see you again.*\n\nHer smile widened as she took one step toward me. And then another. \n\n*I will never leave you alone*. \n\nShe reached for me, her hands coming at my throat and closing in tightly. I screamed and screamed, clawing at her face. The room began to spin, and the white angels appeared again. This was it. They were bringing me home. I never thought I would leave the world like this. \n\n**\"Give her 13mg of the Clozaril right now-yes right now, I have her arms. Calm down sweetie we're right here.\"**\n\n*Why is opening my eyes so hard?*\n\nThe light was so bright. I struggled with my eyelids. Slowly the room came to focus. I was in bed, the restraints ached around my wrists and feet. A middle aged woman in white scrubs knocked softly. \n\n**\"How are you feeling?\"**\n\nI closed my eyes again for a brief moment. This was hell. Everytime she--I, was at my door was hell. \n\n*When will it end?*\n\nThe woman tilted her head to the side and sighed. Her eyes and smile both read one thing: pity. \n\n**\"The medication should help with the visual hallucinations and the psychosis. You just have to keep taking it. This is the beginning of a long journey but you're a strong girl. You are not her anymore, just remember that.\"**\n\nThe woman left my room, slowly closing the door. I prayed the next time I opened it I wouldn't see my old self again. ", "\"Hello,\" I say. No, not me... A clone, maybe?\n\n\"Hello,\" this copy replies, with the same confusion as me.\n\n\"Are you a copy of me?\" I ask. My copy frowns.\n\n\"I thought *you* were a copy of *me*,\" he says. I pause.\n\n\"Come inside, we must chat. Tea?\n\n\" You know the answer to that,\" is the reply.\n\n\"Right. Coffee it is,\" I say, letting him through.", "Last week Eveline had dumped me (it wasn't me, it was her, or long distance, or something), and I hadn't felt like doing much other than stare at the ceiling and feel worthless. However, the urge to take a piss was slowly overcoming the urge to remain a quilt-wrapped burrito of dried snot and misery.\n\nLike any fine bachelor, I'd slept fully clothed. When I tried to pull my sheets off, the whiff of dead animal that jumped to my nose almost knocked me back out. I made a mental note to sneak into Mark's room when he was out so I could take another cologne shower.\n\nI heard the main door to the apartment slam shut. Probably Mark leaving. After I'd slipped on a pair of nearly solidified socks, I stumbled over to the door and popped it open.\n\n_What in the hell?_\n\nI... was standing there? I... yeah. It was me, albeit far better dressed (dude had a vest, and a _tie_), and it looked like he'd gone outside and had a haircut as well. For a half second we stood there and stared at each other. It was like looking in a mirror, but backward. I didn't realize how weird my hair looked in reverse. The scar on my temple looked backward. Then the fucker took a swing at me.\n\nI felt hot blood shoot out of my nose, and I fell hard on my ass. He grimaced and shook his hand, mouthing the word \"ow.\" My eyes were hot, and tears started to run down my cheeks. I wanted to speak, but my throat was caught.\n\n\"God, it fuckin' stinks in here.\" he said. _Is that what I sound like? Really? That's my voice? Shit._\n\n\"Blugh, hmmpphhffft.\" I heard myself say. Then he almost looked sad. I probably looked pretty pathetic falling into a pile of dirty laundry and empty clif bar wrappers.\n\nThen he wiped his fist off on his pant leg and pointed at me.\n\n\"Look, man,\" he said as I stuffed my shirt into my nostrils, \"I'm not fuckin around. Don't call or text Eveline. She's bad news.\"\n\nThen he walked off.\n\nI heard the door to the front of my apartment close, and then, maybe from the adrenaline running hot through my veins, I got the nerve to move.\n\n\"Waaaait!\" I yelled as I slipped around on the wood floor over to the front door. When I opened it, the cold air from the main hallway wafting through, there was no one. I looked down the stairs. Nothing.\n\nWhen I turned around to go back in and sit down, I saw a yellow sticky note on the door, written in my handwriting:\n\n I'm serious, David. Don't contact her. She's not who you think she is.\n\n -- David\n\nMy phone started to buzz, and I tried to fish it out of my pants. My hands were shaking so badly that I dropped it on the floor. The screen landed upward, facing me.\n\n Incoming call from Eveline. Swipe right to answer.", "Tired beyond belief I stood there gazing at myself outside the front door... Why the fuck did I install a mirror in my front door.", "I stood there, confused at what I saw for several seconds. Waiting for some sense in me to explain the situation. Suddenly the person in front of me opened his mouth to say something.\n\n‘Who are you?’ I say whilst suddenly looking at my self inside my own apartment. Everything changed, I was now the other me, the imposter.\n\nThe other me now looked frightened, as I imagined I would be if a copy of my self was ringing my doorbell.\nHe closed the door in a swift movement.\n\n‘What is happening to me?!’ I almost screamed in the hallway.\n\nI started to feel dizzy, like my memory was fading. It felt like a dream fading away. After a few moments, I wondered what I was doing in the hallway outside of my apartment. \n\nI reached for the door handle, trying to enter my apartment. But it was locked. And I had no key. Had I locked my self out, or was there someone else in the apartment? I slowly reached for the doorbell and rang it. A few seconds passed but the door soon started to open.\n\nI could not have been prepared for what I saw. I stood there in the hallway, not knowing how I got there, starring at my self inside my own apartment. \n\nI slowly opened my mouth, when everything changed.\n\n‘Who are you?’ the other me asked, whom now looked at me from the hallway.\n\nI became frightened and quickly closed the door behind me. I froze behind the door, trying to figure out what was going on. Suddenly I heard something from just the other side of the door.\n\n‘What is happening to me?!’ in a loud voice." ]

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

[ "1420408446", "1420415870", "1420419740", "1420413392", "1420422831", "1420411024" ]