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euclaise

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[ "\"How do you know that?\" I asked.\n\n\"Everyone knows everything about you,\" he replied, the corners of his mouth forming into a slightly malicious and devious smile.\n\n\"Just me?\"\n\n\"Yep.\"\n\n\"Well, then what is my dog's name?\" I inquired, hoping to all that is holy that he wouldn't say what I thought he would.\n\n\"You don't have a dog.\" A completely straight face.\n\n\"Holy shit,\" my jaw would need to be surgically removed from the floor.\n\n\"Hehehe...I know much more than just that though. Hell, I can tell you when you're gonna die and how.\"\n\nI wanted to know. I wanted to know how much time I had left so I can do everything I wanted to in my time left. I opened my mouth only to find myself unable to ask. Would it be right to know? Would that be playing God? \n\n\"Tell me,\" the words just slipped out, almost as if I didn't have control. \"tell me now.\"\n\n\"I knew you were gonna say that,\" he chuckled. \"Anyways, no more fucking around. You're about to know the biggest secret of your life, and there's no undoing this. Are you sure?\" he paused for a moment, \"What am I saying? I know you're gonna say yes. You have 30 seconds, and then you will be hit by a car.\"\n\nMy eyes widened. I couldn't fathom that short of a time left. It didn't make sense. \n\n\"Yeah, right. Ok, buddy. In that case I'll just stay inside for another 30 seconds,\" I laughed a belly laugh. I had conquered death. I had w-\n\nAnd that's when a car drove through the wall of the gas station.", "Lounging against the counter and dangling his car keys in his right hand, he looks me straight in the eyes and says, \n\"Hey Norm, how was your trip home?\"\nAnd even though my name is Norm, I look behind me, expecting another person to reply, for someone other than me to be there. I double check, just to make sure, but there's no one there. He must mean me. \n\nI adjust my walking stick into a more comfortable position, rearrange my glasses and look at him closely. Maybe I've met him before someplace around here. Maybe I was driving too slowly on the 405 and he wanted to point that out. In public. In the nicest possible manner you understand. \n\nHow on earth does he know my name? Maybe he's family and I've forgotten him? Maybe he's one of Mabel's cousins? I really don't want to be part of this conversation and I know I should be getting back home, the light is starting to leave the sky and night is fast approaching. I would rather be in front of a warm fire at home. \n\nAnd so I ask him something only I would know. The last time I asked someone, \"Who are you?\"there were tears. Lots of them. Couldnt understand it really. Except it resulted in me being forced to see that horrible doctor him banning me from driving. I do not like being banned from driving which is why I'm here in the petrol station buying gas. \n\nI wonder what to ask him. This brain of mine really doesn't work so fast these days. In the end I plump for something of which I'm absolutely sure I'll know the answer. \n\nI stand up as straight as I can and breathe. I put fire into my lungs, this whippersnapper should know who's boss,\n\"Who was Jenny Faulkner?\" I boom. \n\"Your grandmother\" he replies and adds, as if joking, \"Everyone here knows everything about you Uncle Norm\". \n\nAnd then it happens. A flooding of light in my head. At that gas station of all places, I suddenly have clarity. I can remember being surrounded by parties and my security boys and our fans and the endless nights of drunkeness. And I smile. They were good times. \n\nA small part of me feels vital again. The aching in my arm recedes a little and for a second or so it seemed like it mattered. And like my life mattered.", "\"Everything?\" I ask incredulously.\n\n\"Absolutely everything. Your first dog's name, when you lost your virginity, the color of your wife's car. Every bit of it is public knowledge,\" the stranger replied. \"We can all see your every move.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah?\" I inquired. \"How much is in my wallet right now?\"\n\n\"You don't usually carry cash, but for some reason you have some today. It's about tree fiddy.\"\n\n\"Fuck.\"" ]

[ 1, 1, 4 ]

[ "1420426483", "1420483834", "1420427337" ]

[ "You're sitting in your living room making idle chat with your parents and with your sister. Meanwhile, your hands are fidgeting and your eye has a slight twitch. Thankfully, your family has yet to notice. You're worried about what your family will think of their family. *What if they hate them? What if they think I've married below myself?* you think to yourself. You dispel these thoughts because you'd like to think you know your own parents better than that. Just then, a knock at the door rings out. Your sister, excited, calls out \"I've got it!\" and runs for the door. As soon as it opens, the stench of rum and sweat enters the room. A portly man, whose face shone like a lump of coal, stands in the doorway. He's of average height and is dressed in a sea captain's uniform. \"AHOY!\" comes a booming voice from the doorway. Your sister is obviously a little shaken. Upon looking around the living room, you discover that your entire family is also visibly shaken. This is the moment you'd been dreading. After the initial shock, your sister scuffled out of the way of the door and allowed the rest of the family inside. Fortunately, the rest of them were well-mannered and didn't reek of the sea. *A small victory,* you think to yourself. \"Frederick, please, I implore you, do not yell here.\" you hear a low voice urgently talking. \"Aye, my mistake.\" came the surprisingly reasonable reply. The boastfully loud man happens to be your new brother in law, who you've met before. \"Avast, matey.\" a voice echoes. You look to your right and see a large hand whose fingers look like boiled sausages, covered in callouses. You reach out to shake it, and find that it feels like boiled sausages too. Frederick heaves a hearty laugh at your discomfort. Within a few minutes, everyone is seated, and you think that everything's going well. You've decided that a party game would be sufficient to keep everyone interested. Monopoly seems like a swell idea, and you decide to set it up amongst your parents and with your wife's family. Your sister is nowhere to be found, as she's decided to stay in her room for the remainder of this encounter. *Who can blame her?* you think to yourself. The game begins, and naturally, Frederick chooses [the small ship](http://i.imgur.com/Mj7IsBo.jpg). As the game progresses, there's much conversation and laughs to be had. You're winning, so to add some friendly insult to injury, you place hotels on Boardwalk and Park Place. Everyone thinks it's a hilarious waste of your money until Frederick lands on one. The whole room goes silent. You can see a sort of terrifying fury in his eyes. You and your wife's family know about Fredrick's horrible temper. As he forks over what little money he has left, you can hear muttering under his rum-scented breath. \"I'll keelhaul him for this.\" \"A month in the brig for the scallywag.\" or \"Swear on me cutlass, I'll make him shark bait.\" are any of the dozens of low insults he breathed. A chill goes up and down your spine like waves crashing into a ship's hull. Unexpectedly, a hearty, heavy laugh rings out. \"HAHAHAHAH! YE THOUGHT I WAS GONNA MAKE YE WALK THE PLANK ON THE HIGH SEAS!\" he yells. His booming voice echoes throughout the house. His parents apologize profusely, but he just keeps on laughing. All of a sudden, he stops. \"If ye be the love of my little lass of a sister, you ought to be treated like one!\" he says. You become totally confused. \"Bring us a keg of yer finest brew, matey!\" he requests. You suddenly realize what he's after. A drinking contest. Your parents tell you no. Your body tells you no. But this awkward, smelly pirate tells you yes. Against all reason, you go to the kitchen and retrieve a large bottle of bourbon. \"Alright, captain, let's see what you're made of.\" you taunt him. He laughs a heavy laugh as you pour him a glass. One the table is set and the drinks are ready, both families have warmed up to the idea somewhat. Your wife can't stand to watch, however. One drink goes down. \"A little tipsy, Captain Crunch?\" you taunt him once more. \"I'll hang ye by the mast ye bilge-sucking dog!\" he jokes. Another drink goes down. By the fifth drink, you're hardly even conscious, and he's hardly broken a sweat. All of the sudden, you begin to feel very sleepy. You're slurring your words. *But I can't be beaten by this guy,* you think very slowly. Another drink goes down and so do you. From the floor, you can see Frederick helping himself to the rest of the bottle. Your vision goes black and you rest for a while. The next morning, you're met with a massive headache and two troubled parents.\n", "Wanted to change the prompt a bit. I hope it didn't put you all out to sea (*state* *of* *confusion*). Enjoy!\n\n\nPeter used to be my best friend. He's still my brother, but we're on less friendly terms. He survived a mere 14 minutes at my bachelor party. After he told my co-worker and best man Eric that the bar was chock-a-block (*crammed* *together* *as* *to* *prevent* *movement*) with wenches, the guys started to avoid him immediately. After and hour he was, and I quote, \"three sheets to the wind\" (*drunk*) it only got worse. He threw bottles, spit, grabbed women, and yelled at anyone who looked at him the wrong way.\n\nPeter used to be the most common guy you ever would find. CPA, engaged to an 5th grade English teacher, drove a Land Rover. He was hit by a teenager driving while high on Oxycontin. After a month in a coma, he came to. The first thing out of his mouth was, \"Why do ye look like you've been on yer beam ends (*in* *a* *bad* *situation*).\" He had never been sailing in his life. In fact, he was disturbed by the thought of deep water where he could no touch the bottom. We don't even know where he learned all this shit. It's been a point of interest for a dozen psychologists and several publications.\n\nThis was the meeting of the families. A stressful situation itself, but adding the brain damaged brother who has been known to threaten strangers to go by the board (*to* *be* *thrown* *overboard*) made it a nightmare made real. \n\nThe fiance was Lisa, and she was a savior if I had ever met one. She brought me back from a self destructive atmosphere. I hadn't touched a drop of alcohol in nearly nine months. She was patient and kind, but adamant in her convictions. My brother would have called her, \"a real copper-bottom (*trustworthy*, *genuine*).\n\nWe watched from the kitchen window to see who would pull up. My hope had been that I could have half a decent night if Lisa's family showed first. Life is not that fair. I recognized my fathers grey Ford truck immediately. My parents encouraged Peter's unique perspective now. Laugh to keep from crying right? A small pirate flag whipped in the wind from the truck bed.\n\nLisa had heard me complain about Peter, but never met him in person. I girded myself for a night of embarrassment and shame. I knew I was not a good brother.\n\nPeter strolled toward the door. He always bragged about his land legs. \n\n\"Been high and dry (*stranded* *or* *without* *help*) without ye brother!\"\n\n\"Hi Peter...\"\n\n\"Ah already on yer wick (*on* *someone's* *nerves*) am I? Well maybe the little lady can withstand my banter for a night eh? Is this her then?\"\n\n\"Hello Peter. Your family has told me so much about you.\"\n\n\"Aye, aye but lets get a look at you. Hmm, me brother always did like 'em broad in the beam (*wide* *hips* *or* *buttocks*).\"\n\nI glare with daggers for eyes. But the love of my life didn't miss a beat.\n\n\"Well maybe you'll the Devil to pay (*sealing* *with* *tar* *the* *seams* *of* *the* *hull,* *very* *unpleasant* *task*) if you keep that up!\"\n\nPeter's eyes widened, he cracked a smile, then let out a massive laugh.\n\n\"Blow me down (*expression* *of* *great* *surprise*) Peter! You found one worth an eight-real coin (*spanish* *dollar*)!\"\n\nMy brother and soon to-be wife embraced. Any woman who would learn 18th century sailor colloquialisms for me deserved every bit of love I could summon.\n\nShe would be my beauty (*most* *esteemed* *term* *for* *a* *woman*) for all the days I had to live." ]

[ 1, 2 ]

[ "1420484443", "1420484874" ]

[ "It didn't matter how much I thought I had drank. I knew they were there. Somewhere between the folk stories and slight weight on my shoulders, I knew. \n\"You're the one that brought us here, Nicco. But we all know what needs to happen.\" Sweltering heat radiated with every word he uttered. Beads of perspiration ran down the left side of my neck. \n\"You must preserve the memories and dignity you've shared through time. Take consolation in knowing you control the last moments - which is more than others are offered.\" \nI scratch my head and squint my right eye, the light is too much. I look down and realize an empty vessel looks back at me. They're both wrong, as I raise the gun... I can feel them fading. Like my friend, my best friend of over 10 years. \nI pull the trigger and bathe in the echoing rings of gunshot. The woods are quiet once again. I take his collar with me. ", "The shoulder devil crept into his master’s cave. Inside was a woman, sprawled naked on a velvet couch. The little devil gently stepped through the lavish room, gagging. The stench of blood, drugs and regret was overwhelming, even for him. He knelt a few feet from the couch.\n\n“Um, sir?”\n\nThe woman cracked an eye. “Yeeeees?”\n\nThe little devil wrung his hands. “You were right, Sir. This boy is way out of my league. The dude’s a friggen rock. He’ll only listen to what High and Mighty on the right tells him.” \n\nSatan rolled to face him. “Does he listen to the angel without question, or does he just disagree with whatever you say?”\n\n“He’s too smart! He knows that whatever I say is going to bite him!” The little devil whined. \n\nSatan closed his eyes, sighing heavily. “You should’ve stayed back with Daddy.” \n\nThe woman rushed from the couch. Shadows boiled from her skin and took the form of an impossibly huge dragon. \n\n“You’re useless to me if I have to baby you!” all seven heads hissed in unison. \n\nThe little devil cowered at the back of the cave. “I’m sorry, Sir! What should I do?”\n\nTwo heads coiled around him, licking and rubbing against him. The main head spoke, “He disagrees with whatever you say, but he doesn’t necessarily listen to the angel. Work it to make him think the angel is out to get him.” \n\nWith a wicked grin, the dragon spread its wings. “You go work on Mr. Righteous. I’m off to go terrorize some little African children. Happy hunting!”\n\n\n\nA few months later, John knelt at his bedside. The little angel leaned on its spear embedded in his pillow. The demon sat on the sheets, occasionally swishing aside his loincloth to scratch himself.\n\n“Obviously, the answer is yes,” the angel said. \n\n“Hmph. Easy for you to say. And would you quit doing that? I just washed the sheets.” John irritably flicked at the devil. He shrieked and guarded his jewels. \n\n“Hey, I’m with winged nutcase over there. You should totally do it,” the devil growled.\n\nJohn blinked. The angel’s spear clattered to the floor. “What now?”\n\nThe devil shrugged. “You heard me. Go for it. It’s the bad thing to do.”\n\nThe angel stared. “No it’s not. Did you even hear my explanation earlier? He does this, the guy learns from his mistakes, eventually gets to apologize to his wife, the victim gets some reconciliation, and everything works out.”\n\nThe devil rolled his eyes. “Or he gets killed in prison, his wife leaves him and the victim sues him again. Which sounds most likely?” \n\n\nJohn slowly looked between the two; the devil twirled his tail with disinterest and the angel slowly closed its mouth. For the first time ever, the two agreed. The little devil is always out to ruin John’s life, but the angel? *Does he know something? Did I do something and he’s trying to get back at me?*\n\nJohn’s eyes flicked over to the angel. \n\n“You can’t honestly think I’d try to set Bill up,” the angel said. \n\n“You’ve been wrong before,” John said warily.\n\nHorror spread across the angel’s face. “I’m not omniscient! Of course I’m going to be wrong, just like he can be!” The angel pointed across to the devil.\n\nThe demon shrugged. “Eh, listen to me or don’t. I’m out to see you guys burn.” \n\nWithout looking at the angel, John said, “He’s right.” \n\nThe angel’s jaw dropped. “No… no no no, you can’t be serious. You think I want to see him hurt any more than you do? It was just a stupid mistake! He’ll be fine in prison for a month!”\n\nJohn stood. “I don’t trust either of you. I’m not saying anything.”\n\nAfter John stepped out of the room, the demon chuckled. \n\n\n\nSix months later, John wept at his friend’s funeral. Bill was killed in a drug deal after John refused to turn him in. Bill’s wife had left a month prior and he had been sued out of existence by the bar owner who’s building he had ruined. \n\nThe little angel set next to him, head in his hands. \n\n“I’m so sorry,” John whispered. \n\n“It’s OK,” the angel said.\n\n“No... it’s not. This was my fault. I should have listened to you.”\n", "\"But she is a murderer! A MASS murderer! I just...I can't!\"\n\n\nA flutter of feathered wings could almost be heard from my left shoulder. \n\n\nYou have to. It is within your power to save her. You have to do what is right. Even if it is hard. \n\n\n\"But...all of those people...she doesn't deserve to live.\" \n\n\nThe acidic tang of brimstone seemed to waft from my right. Or was it just my imagination?\n\n\nYou love her. Save her. The dead will not care. The dead do not speak for the living. \n\n\nYou need her. \n\n\nFor love. \n\n\n\nFor life. \n\n\n\nSave her.", "“There is no way you would dare to do that.” said Lenin, the small little Angel that Jack kept on his left drawer, jumping with excitement. “It’s the worst decision that I have ever advised against in almost forty centuries of work.\"\n\n“Look Lenin, get off your high horse, I’ve thought things over and I know this is the right thing to do”, Jack answered angrily. “I just wanted your opinion but I should have expected this reaction”. He closed again the drawer before Lenin had time to answer, but Jack could still hear his muted complaints through the furniture.\n\nIt’s *almost* never a smart move to ask advise of a Demon, but if Jack wanted to fulfill his mission he would need help with the planing.\n\nWhen Jack opened the right drawer he was expecting to see Baku sleeping lazily or maybe - he was hoping not - intimating with a couple of conjured succubus, but this time he was just siting with his arms folded, a serious look in his eyes.\n\n“I’m not going to help you with this”, Baku started. “You know I thrive on chaos and I’m not going to try to stop you, but this is decidedly stupid and you should know it”.\n\n“That is exactly what Lenin said”, Jack responded irritated. ”Aren’t you supposed to encourage me in actions that go against his morality?”\n\n“That is how we work, yes. And even though there is nothing else that I enjoy more than defeating that prudish son of a bitch, I have to agree with him this time.”\n\n“Look, if there is something I have learned from you is that people should be as selfish as possible. This, at least, will guarantee my own happiness.\", Jack argued. \"The alternative is just hypocrisy; being good just to appease him, whom otherwise would be nagging at me annoyingly”. Jack paused and gave Baku a conflicted look. “Even now I’m already feeling bad for what we are about to do”. He smiled now, his eyes unable to conceal the excitement. “But I know I will feel just dandy as soon as we do it.”\n\n“I’m not doing anything, you crazy psycho”, Baku was starting to lose patience.”Also, it’s not even possible”.\n\n“That’s why I need you”. He stopped for a second, “You see, you’ll find a way, Baku.”\n\nBaku just stared at him.\n\n“After all, you are not the only Demon on earth. You may be assigned to me but I bet there are others that, for the right price, would help me without hesitation”. Jack was openly laughing now.”And when they do, when I find out how to… how to do it, you think I will want to keep a pansy Demon that can’t even fulfill its functions?”\n\nThe little demon considered this for a moment. “No, there is no need Jack, I will help you”\n\n***\n\nLenin was staring at the corpse with a mixture of contempt and forgiveness. He then turned at Baku, an inquisitive look in his eyes.\n\n“Look, what can I say” Baku replied to the silent question. “Nobody threatens a Demon and get away with it”.\n\nLenin didn't reply. Just smiled and rolled his eyes.\n\n“And yes, I’ve grown fond of you over the years, okay? There is no need to make fun of me. I couldn’t let this fucking sociopath end you like that.”\n \nLenin finally spoke. “Well, you know, there is a punishment for ending the life of the human you are assigned to.”\n\nBaku nodded, “Get on with it”.\n\n“However, due to this selfless act - don’t try to deny it - I have managed to intercede for you and, as punishment, you will be turned to Angel for the rest of your existence”.\n\n“You shouldn’t have, Lenin. I would have preferred to burn in Hell for one thousand nights and let my ashes vanish to nothingness than to serve as Angel”, Baku replied with a shudder.\n\n“And you haven’t heard the worst yet”, Lenin laughed.\n\n“What is it?”\n\nLenin pointed to the corpse of Jack, “He will be *the* Demon for your next assignment”.\n", "Why aren't you guys fighting, I think to myself. The face of the building falls forever below my feet. Both my shoulder guys peer over the side, too. Both don't say anything for a little while, I choose to listen to the wind. \n\nThen, red guy on the left pipes up:\n\n\"This is dastardly. Evil. Especially to your mother. Do it. It'll show those bastards at school what they're missing: your intellect and strength and your unparalleled sense of humor. They'll love you for it, and hate themselves for not loving you before.\"\n\nWhite guy on the right nodded his head, and said:\n\n\"True. This is evil. But do it. Your mother wouldn't want you to but you're your own man anyway. And besides, what do you have to give to her, anyway? You hardly ever call, you hardly even care. She will mourn the loss of a bold son, rather than rue the absence of a distant one. Fuck the kids at school, this is about you, not them.\"\n\nI have tears in my eyes, and all over my face. Why did they stop fighting? They always fought before, that way I could decide between the two of them. I would have never been up here if they hadn't stopped the fighting. ", "\"What do you think?\"\n\n\"What's the problem?\" asked the cute little red guy to my right.\n\n\"Well,\" I said, \"I have two choices. There's this girl, and man, she is right fit. We're standing by the cooler and I just picked up the last red Kool-Aid Jammer™. She's explained to me, quite flirtily I might add, that she absolutely *loves* red flavoured Kool-Aid Jammers™, and she'd do just anything to get one. There's been some cheeky tension building up over here for some time, and this gentlemanly gesture might just seal the deal for the rest of my night.\"\n\n\"So you give up the drink, you get that pussy?\" he asked after a quiet moment of consideration.\n\n\"I wouldn't be so crass, but yes,\" I responded.\n\n\"Then what's the problem?\"\n\n\"Well, I'm pretty thirsty. And I too can't get enough of red flavoured Kool-Aid Jammers™, so I'm weighing my options here.\"\n\n\"You can't give up the red?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I want this red,\" I admitted.\n\n\"Listen kid,\" he said, \"You have two choices. One: Keep your Kool-aid and masturbate, like, until forever. Two: Give up the red.\"\n\nHis voice changed from uncaring to serious for just that moment.\n\n\"Give up the red, kid. Because no matter how thirsty you are right now, you're about to be drowning in pink. It's an investment.\"\n\nThe other guy appeared on my left shoulder.\n\n\"Sorry to barge in like this,\" he said, \"But I'd like to offer my two cents.\"\n\n\"Great, he's about to be all *that guy* over here. I'm out,\" red guy said and vanished into a puff of smoke.\n\n\"Go ahead,\" I said.\n\n\"Well,\" he began, \"And this is purely objectively speaking. You've got to--\"\n\nHe cleared his throat.\n\n\"You've got to fuck this bitch.\"\n\n\"I've got to fuck this bitch?\"\n\n\"You've got to Fuck. This. Bitch.\"\n\n\"Gurgle that strawberry-kiwi,\" red guy added after rejoining the party.\n\nI looked to my left, then to my right.\n\n*I've got to fuck this bitch*, I thought, and handed her the pouch.\n\n***\n\nThis is the ~~dumbest~~ ~~dumbest~~ dumbest thing I've ever written, all because of a drowning in pink joke. Check out my website [casualhuman.com](http://casualhuman.com) for stories with a lot less dumb." ]

[ 1, 2, 5, 10, 19, 72 ]

[ "1420479670", "1420489601", "1420475068", "1420470124", "1420464058", "1420462852" ]

[ "There was no war as imaginary dragons and imaginary oppression bombs don't exist.\n\nLife continued, the asshats were ignored.\n\nBest I can do without actually going and researching the groups, something that there is no justification for less than a sociology dissertation.", "[Word of warning: this might be a bit nonsensical if you aren’t as familiar with these fandoms as I am (they’re fascinating to watch operate in their natural habitat, it’s been a hobby for about two years now). But then again, this is Tumblr, where up is down and anything/everything is offensive to *somebody*.]\n\nThe two Game of Thrones fans were gasping as they finally slid behind some adequate cover. The mad dash across the Con floor had nearly done for them more than a few times.\n\n“Thirty seconds. That table didn’t even hold up for an entire fuckin’ minute! Christ on a sparkly pink pogo-stick, Jim, which fuckwit picked a fight with the Potterheads? They were like a goddamn cult *without* the magic.”\n\n“At least we managed to flip it in time to get some cover from that initial assault, man. Dana wasn’t so lucky.”\n\nThey both looked over to where Dana now lay, her legs rubbery and distorted from a Jellylegs Jinx, screaming as giant clumps of mucus flowed out of her nose and took to the air in the shape of bats.\n\nJim winced and looked away. Nothing they could do for her now. Damn J.K. Rowling and Pottermore for including a section of the site that showed the wand movements of specific spells. The hardcore fans were already pre-trained. He turned back to his partner, repeating himself tiredly.\n\n“Dana wasn’t so lucky. And you wanna talk about fucking fandom cults, Alejandra? Least we aren’t up against those Supernatural nut jobs. Just imagine them getting their hands on some shotguns.”\n\nThey stared at each other in horror.\n\n“Oh, Sweet Jesus. Th-they didn’t get the shotguns, did they? Or those weird-ass angel blades?”\n\nThey were interrupted as someone rolled over the top of the waist-high wall they were sheltering behind and nearly landed in their laps. Alejandra just about stabbed him with her sword-- which she had managed to hang onto despite everything-- till he rolled over onto his back with his hands up and shouted, “Chill, chill! It’s me! It’s Darryl!”\n\n“Seven Hells, Darryl, where in the fuck were you? It’s a goddamn madhouse in here!”\n\nDarryl sat up, grimacing and trying to get his breath back. “Yeah, I kind of noticed. I went out on a ranging, to answer your question. As soon as all the …*stuff* started appearing, I went out to see what the rest of the fandoms were up to, the fucking heathens. Which dipshit pissed off the Potterheads, by the way?”\n\nJim grunted. “No fucking clue. But first things first: *did the fucking Supernatural fans get guns or knives?”*\n\nDarryl went pale at the thought. “No, which I’m gonna take as proof of a loving and merciful God. Nah, they got the car. They’re taking turns driving it around the parking lot blasting ‘Heat of the Moment’ and that fucking Kansas song.”\n\nAlejandra sighed a bit wistfully. “They might be kinda batshit, but I’ll admit, that Impala is a damn fine car.”\n\nA Reducto slammed into a pillar nearby, taking a good chunk out of it, and they all ducked to avoid any flying debris. They could hear someone shouting on the other side of the wall.\n\n“Woah, woah, we’re trying to flush ‘em out, not bring this place down around our damn ears! Merlin, you’d think you were a bunch of Malfoys the way you lot are going on!”\n\nThat started a pretty heated argument, the crux of which seemed to hinge on how much of an anti-hero Draco Malfoy was/ is/ *totally isn’t, you guys*. The rate of fire tapered off a bit, which let them look back out across the Hall and judge their fellow fans’ dispositions. \n\nThe Potterheads were in the center of the hall behind a loose ring of tables. In the center of their group, someone had pulled out their laptop and logged into the never-to-be-sufficiently-damned Pottermore and was instructing any inexperienced wand users in offensive spellwork. Those Game of Thrones fans that had survived the first attack were taking cover behind whatever they could, their swords useless at such a long range.\n\nJim motioned for Darryl to continue with his report.\n\n“The Whovians got the Tardis. They’re pretty much just throwing a wandering party, I think they got the Nightvale folks to join in because they keep talking about what a sick beat ‘The Weather’ was forecasting and floating cats and shit. The Marvel Cinematic Universe fans got Mjolnir, of all fucking things. They’re getting drunk and having a can-you-lift-it contest. The Sherlockians got some tranquilizer, they’re arguing over what it means and what significance it might have to Reichenbach Fall. Avatar and Legend of Korra fandoms got bending-- weirdos are running a sno-cone and grilled hotdog bar and talking about how awesome bisexuals and friendship are. The different video game fandoms were in Hall B, only got a brief look, but I think the Portal and Half-life guys were messing around with the Portal and Gravity guns, respectively. Oh yeah!”\n\nHe grinned widley. “You’ll never guess what the Metal Gear guys got.”\n\nAlejandra looked at him askance. “What, the fucking Shagohod?”\n\nDarryl shook his head. “Nope. The fucking cardboard box.”\n\nThey all broke down laughing at that, until Jim remembered something. \n\n“Shit, what about the fucking Weebs?”\n\n“Oh, for fuck’s sake, dude, just liking anime or imported games does not make you a Weeaboo. We’ve been over this.” snapped Alejandra.\n\n“Whatever. Darryl, you got an answer?”\n\n“Nah, couldn’t even get in the door to their hall. All I could see was the Attack on Titan kids rappelling around in 3D Maneuver Gear.”\n\n“And that’s all you saw, Ranger?”\n\n“That’s all I saw Lord Commander.”\n\nJim rubbed at his face, trying to think of something they could do to get out of this mess. Eventually, someone in the Potterhead camp was going to work up the balls to try and Apparate, and once they figured *that* out everyone in this Hall was fucked. \n\n“We need ranged weapons. I know there are at least a few archery nuts in the fandom, has to be. With just the swords, the only option is a full-on charge. That would be straight up suicide, even with these Valyrian steel blades.”\n\n“But if we just sit here, they’ll just pick us off slowly.” said Darryl gloomily.\n\nAlejandra glared at the both of them. “Men. Honestly. ‘The only way to do this is by fighting the enemy with swords!’ Have you watched this show at all? Read these books?”\n\nDarryl rubbed the back of his neck. “Nah, I never read the books. Don’t wanna spoil myself.”\n\n“Not the point, man! The one thing that this series has taught me is that the underhanded will always come out on top, and the best weapons are words and opinions, especially those of important people.”\n\nShe gestured towards the Potter fandom, who were now apparently arguing over wether Snape was Friendzoned or not. \n\n“Look at them. This big, old fandom that nobody wants to fuck with, right? well look closer. Look at all the factional splits. You saw the stupid shit they were arguing about over earlier, and you see how it evolved into a different but still pretty fucking stupid argument?Look at how long they're arguing over! it The little tribal lines and divides are pretty thinly papered over right now, especially now that they have the magical force to back their petty arguments up. If we play this right, we can get all of them to turn on one another.”\n\nJim looked impressed. “Damn, Littlefinger. Remind me not to piss you off anytime soon.”\n\n“I dunno,” said Darryl, looking worried. “What the hell would be divisive enough to get *all* of them at each-others’ throats?”\n\nAlejandra pulled out her phone and queued up an interview with a truly evil smirk.\n\n“*Shipping*.”\n\nA few moments later, every head in the Potter fandom shot up, and all fighting ceased. The unmistakable sound of the Creator’s voice drifted through the air, remarking on the interpersonal relationships of Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They all fell into reverent silence as the received new Gospel on the Golden Trio.\n\n“… I do somewhat regret pairing Hermione off with Ron, in the end. She and Harry really would have been a better match….”\n\nAnd a great, howling cry arose from their ranks as J.K. Rowling herself drove a wrecking ball into the precarious Jenga stack of alliances. The Potterheads ceased to exist within the hour.\n\n[If anyone doesn’t know, the Rowling quote is a paraphrase from an actual interview she did. The shitstorm that followed on Tumblr was both epic and highly entertaining. Sorry if it’s all a bit incoherent, you don’t get to pick how sober you are when you receive The Call.]" ]

[ 3, 5 ]

[ "1420508502", "1420518806" ]

[ "It started with the swear jar. That little rule that kids enforce in order to get - I'm actually not sure what they got when you swore at them. Not like it really matters anymore, but it's an interesting bit to note. All it took was the president's kid enforcing it. The leader of the free world couldn't curse, and in his eyes, that meant that no one should. So he passed a bill. Congress liked it. Senate liked it. People on the street even seemed to like it at first. It had family values written all over it. Really took off in the bible belt. Prohibition based solely on language. As if we couldn't manage ourselves. As if the first amendment didn't matter anymore. As if it would benefit anyone. Now we got people with guns and badges walking the streets looking for an excuse to write a citation or pull the trigger based on whether or not a person lets an f-bomb slip. Nowadays, you can't even drop a \"darn\" without an \"intent to swear\" charge written up. \n\nThat's when my brother, Steve, had this idea. It started in restaurant basements, and grew into an abandoned warehouse cellar. We formed a speakeasy, where people could come to say whatever they liked, but had to pay a five drink minimum. Obviously, we only sold the good stuff, and we marked it up high. But no one else was willing to foot the risk of opening up their own place. We all knew what we were getting into, and we knew that the stakes were monumental. If one cop walked down here, it'd be like the fucking Russian revolution: all of us sitting around this basement while the bullets tear us apart, and the walls get painted with our collective blood. But it's so worth it. We sit down here, and we drink, smoke, gamble, dance, carry on and say whatever the fuck we want. Steve and I rake in thousands of dollars each week because of this. I tell people that I wish the government would return to how things used to be, but I really don't think I mean it. \n\nWithout this bill, we'd never be able to make money off of other people's need for conversation. At least this way, we have our own overflowing swear jar, and as long as no one outside hears us, we can say whatever the fuck we'd like. Now if only someone would outlaw sex, we'd make a fortune.", "Man, what I wouldn't give for a \"Fuck!\" right. Just one short, sweet, full-bodied \"Fuck!\". Wouldn't say no to a few \"Goddamn!\"'s thrown in either. It's 2042 and I can't remember the last time I could just let my mouth go. It started small - bans in schools, elderly care facilities, evening primetime TV - things like. And it was just the big stuff - \"fuck\" and \"shit\". Well, you couldn't say \"cock\" or \"cunt\" but no one really used those that much anyway. Nah, it was the big two that hurt the most. \n\nBut hey, it was cool, right? Protect the kids and all. Build a better world. Except then it started getting worse - the lighter stuff, like \"ass\" and \"hell\". If it weren't for the Christian Right, the last one would be gone entirely. You can say it in church, maybe, if you're a pastor or whatever. But a blistering \"Go to hell\"? Forget it. 15 years. *Minimum*.\n\nSlowly but surely, the situation got worse. I'll never forget the first execution. None of us will. They picked this old, fat, racist redneck. Klansman, I think. The worst guy they could find. He was talking to his friends about \"sending those fuckin' niggers back to fuckin' Africa\", and that was it. Full SWAT team, helicopter, the whole nine yards. They broadcast his execution live, too. I never thought I'd feel bad for a Klukker, but his face was so swollen you couldn't even recognize him. And they shot him. Right in the back of the head, just like that. People thought twice about swearing after that. Too risky.\n\nMan, you ever tried getting busy with a girl without being able to swear? \"Gee, I love your breasts!\" \"Go on, touch my erect penis!\" It's fuckin' impossible. You sound like a 12-year-old. Speaking of which, the market for the cut stuff has exploded. I know guys that got rich off of \"a$$\" and \"f@gget\". You couldn't sell them fast enough! Dropping a \"g\" of the end of \"fucking\" cuts the price in half. Take out a c? It's basically affordable! Not that it's worth it - if you're gonna swear, do it right. The hard stuff isn't gone either - it's just expensive. A buddy of mine sold a \"pussy\" to this elderly couple. 50th wedding anniversary and they just wanted one \"pussy\". Cost the guy about 3 months of his pension, he said. That almost broke my heart when I heard it. My buddy's, too, but business is business, and business is good.\n\nIf I ever read this aloud, it would cost me more than I've made in my life. Not that it would get that far - I'd be dead after the first sentence. Which is why I'll never read this aloud. I've thought long and hard about where would be best to leave this, and I've decided on Moby Dick, stuck in the back, in a high school library. Nobody reads Moby Dick. And even if they do, fuckin' NOBODY reads all of it. The irony of the title isn't lost on me either.\n\nSo to the person that finds this, if it's found, I hope yours is a world with profanity. I hope you can walk up to your best friend and call him a \"fucking cunt\" just because it's Tuesday. I hope you can criticize the government by saying the President sucks donkey dick. But remember my words, kid. Because a world with expletives isn't a given - and I've seen better men than you give every last fuck they had to fight for it." ]

[ 2, 3 ]

[ "1420502868", "1420495773" ]

[ "Run the lights. \n\nI froze. Unmistakingly, its the voice of HALGA, aka Heuristics Algorithms Live Ground Assist. The same voice that had earlier suggested that I should brake soon to stop in time for the red lights. The same voice that has earlier suggested that I would reach my destination in 14 minutes at current traffic conditions. \n\nNot that there is any traffic conditions on on Heuristics Algorithms vehicle test track. Simulated conditions were fed directly into the sensors of the driverless car through a test and diagnostics console however. \n\nThe voice spoke again, this time insistent. \nRun. The. Lights. \n\nIts odd that the monotonous speech of the computer can be insistent. \n\nI turned to the tests and diagnostics console on the passenger seat, connected to the heart of the car computer. At the moment, the data fed to the computer is simulation 23 - school zone (children's crossing road). I pulled the speech log window out. \n\n3 minute(s) ago - username, you will arrive at destination in 14 minutes. Slight delay due to peak traffic conditions. \n\n1 minute(s) ago - username, please slow down as you approach the traffic light. \n\nOdd. I turned back to face the steering, enunciating clearly into the mike on the wheel. \n\n\"Helga, repeat last message?\" \n\nFor a moment, there was chilling silence in the car. \n\n\"Last message: username, please slow down as you approach the traffic light.\" \n\nAm I hearing things? I sighed, then pushed my foot down as the lights turned green. Maybe I will ask the control station later. \n\nThe car begin to accelerate faster and faster. Not that its going to be dangerous. Its a straight road ahead and the car is capped at 80kmph for this simulation. \n\nThe walkie crackled suddenly. \"Hey Dave. Mind checking your speedo?\" I stared at my speedo. \n\n\"Yeah, its at 80. Why?\" \n\n\"We are reading over a hundred on the radar.\" \n\nI laughed, but then I realized the scenario is passing too fast, and I'm running out of road too quickly. I begin to press the brake pedals. \n\n\"Dave, your speed is still increasing.\" The walkie crackled. \n\nI know, I know. I pushed the brakes harder. \n\n\"Dave brake now.\" The walkie commanded. I realized why. Control station is directly ahead. For some reason, I checked the GPS. The destination had switched to coordinates numbers. Was the car hacked? No its a closed system. \n\nThen the monotonous voice spoke. \"Goodbye, username.\" ", "The car made a smooth stop at the traffic signal, before activating it's left blinker.\n\n\"Hey baby,\" a sexy voice boomed. \" I was feeling a little off today, but you definitely turned me on.\"\n\nI glanced around, desperately trying to find the creep who was surely hiding in the backseat.\n\n\"It's just me baby,\" the speakers bellowed. It was the car. It had to be. I tapped a few buttons on the dashboard panel.\n\n\"Decrease romance level by seventy percent.\"" ]

[ 1, 3 ]

[ "1420520617", "1420518479" ]

[ "I went downstairs to get my usual cup of tea but when I reached for my mug it slipped right through my hands and shattered on the floor. Deciding I'd clean it up later, I went my start my car but when I reached for my keys the front door burst open and a cold wind swept through the house. Running to get my jacket, I realized all of a sudden that I wasn't cold at all, in fact I didn't feel anything at all. I knew I had a lot to drink last night so I thought maybe a shower would help me feel more alive but I as I walked up the stairs I could hear water running and saw a pink liquid dripping down the stairs. Hastily I pushed the door open only to see me, lying in an overflowing tub, the last of my blood spilling onto my once white tile, and I looked down at myself only to see I had no self to see anymore.", "A flock of chickens is following me on my hike. They're clucking at me. I think I understand what they're trying to say. I cluck back at them, and they understand. I walk past an old barn, and the owner picks me up and throws me back in my coop. ", "My boyfriend didn't text me back.\n\nI showed up to his house on my horse demanding satisfaction.\n\nWhen he saw me from the window he shut the curtains.\n\nI galloped toward the house, knocked the door down and bolted inside.\n\nEverything was covered in diarrhea.", "I've always been the quiet, soft-spoken, polite guy. \n\nWhat surprises people is that my girlfriend is very attractive, and a boisterous extrovert.\n\nAfter dating for 2 months she suggested we try dirty talking, and I was petrified.\n\nI had no idea what to say so I stayed silent, but she got mad and demanded that I *at least try*.\n\nI looked down at the back of her naked body and without thinking, I blurted: \"Yeah...you like that, you fucking retard?\" \" \n", "The potted plant on my kitchen bench seemed to be a gift.\n\nThe pot had a nice little bow on it, complete with a card.\n\nSomething looked odd about the plant though, the way it sat in its pot.\n\nThe greens and blood reds of it’s leaves combined with its pointed teeth was most disconcerting.\n\nThe card was the worst of it however, it simply said “Feed Me”.", "This morning I lost my phone,\n\nThen found it in my cologne,\n\nI opened the door,\n\nAnd there on the floor,\n\nWas a corpse and a bottle of Rhône.\n", "It was Tuesday and I woke up in a bed that wasn't mine. I could tell because the sheets were pink and didn't smell stale. There was photos on the wall of places I recognised but had never been. I looked around for my clothes and it was then that I realised.\n\nSomeone had hidden my fingers.", "The road stopped at the river. It had been a long walk, though I should have finished it years ago. The water on the pavement shimmered in the starlight, caught the dead leaves falling upon a lattice of sticks. The lights of my home faded--left me--stood me up on the riverbed with a man and his boat. My unsteady breath went cold in the dark, shook like my ringless fingers, when I handed the ferryman my long-past due.\n\n\n", "It was my birthday, but nobody seemed to care. \n\nThe family was under a lot of stress, we were moving around, trying to escape problems with distance.\n\nIt was almost impossible to find us, but suddenly there was an ominous thump on the door.\n\nSuddenly a massive homeless person burst through the door, his teeth glinting in the moonlight.\n\nHe turned to me and he said \"You're a wizard Harry\"" ]

[ 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 5, 5, 22 ]

[ "1420595711", "1420597293", "1420581606", "1420583058", "1420584634", "1420580676", "1420581257", "1420582951", "1420580464" ]

[ "He knew it was CO2. I knew it was CO2. He said the car bomb needs to go. We blew it up and and took the O two go.\n\nChemistry story.", "New York 2115\n\n It was a dark December, and it was raining heavily that day as me and my friend Tony waited in the ally next to Alfredo's Pizza Place on 5th street.\n\n \"Fuck it's so cold. How much longer are we gonna wait for this guy?\" My friend Tony said as he zipped up his track suit. \n\n \"First of all, relax because I'm tired of your complaining and second of all, it's woman, and she'll be here soon.\"\n\n \"Well, she better be here real soon because my O2 tank is almost out.\"\n\n Waited for a while longer, and decided she wasn't coming. As we exited the ally two people were fighting over a half empty O2 tank. This the world we live in now, where people fight and get killed for half a tank of O2.\n\n \"Fucken animals,\" said Tony as we walked by.\n\n We stopped in front an apartment complex where we were to sell O2 to a family of four. We went inside the complex and out of the pouring rain. I pulled of a sticky note that read, \"Apt. 7-J\".\n\n \"Shit that's top floor!\" Tony said in outrage. \"Ain't there an elevator or somethin?\"\n\n \"Doesn't seem to be one.\"\n\n \"Fuck...\"\n\n The complex was ten stories high. It wasn't a luxurious one either. The stairs were decaying, graffiti was all over the walls, and you can here the muffled shouting of a couple while their baby cried. We were almost to the top when when a lady came to us gasping for air and pleading for oxygen. Apparently someone had stolen her O2 tank, she fell to the ground, still gasping. I wanted to give her and O2 tank but I would've been in deep shit with my boss, so we just stepped over her and continued on.\n\n When we reached the apartment we were greeted by a comforting family they let us sit and offered us water. The fathers name was James, his wife's was Carol and his daughter's was Sammantha. We discussed the price ranges of the O2 tanks, they seemed to have no problem with them, hell who could? It was cheap compared to what the government sold them for. The father went into their room to get the money when all hell broke loose.\n\n Bam! the door was kicked down by a group of three men wearing ski masks. Tony got up and pulled his gun. The men were equipped with Ak's Ra-tat-tat-tat-tat!\n\n \"Fuck! Tony!\" I shouted.\n\n \"Shut the fuck up!\" Shouted back one the masked men. \"Everyone on the ground, and shut that fucken kid up!\"\n\n We did as they told us and they gathered us into the living room, put us down on our knees with our hands on our heads. Two of them searched the house for others but found no one.\n\n \"Alright, where the O2 tanks?\" Said a masked man who I assumed to be the leader.\n\n I did't answer, I kept my mouth shut. The bag of O2 tanks were behind the kitchen counter.\n\n \"He gunned down the James and screamed, \"I said where the fuck are they!\"\n\n Carol began crying and went over to his body. He gunned her down too. The kid had her eyes shut and her ears covered as she sobbed. I had to do something. I told them they were in the masters bedroom. They one of the men to go retrieve them.\n\n \"Jimmie, go check it out.\"\n\n As the man left into the bedroom and the other looked away I seized the moment and grappled one of the masked gunmen.\n\n \"Fuck, shoot the bastard!\"\n\n *Click-Click* \"My fucken guns jammed Bobby!\"\n\n I pulled out a handgun from the mans holster, put it under his chin and pulled the trigger. \n\n *Clack!*\n\n I aimed at the other man.\n\n *Clack! Clack!*\n\n Jimmie came from the room.\n\n *Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!*\n\n I rolled over.\n\n *Clack!-Clack!*\n\n Silence. I walked over to him. His mouth gurgling blood and his eyes wide as he stared into mine.\n\n *Clack!*\n\n It's over. I walked to the kitchen picked up the bag of O2 and proceeded to the exit. at the doorway I stopped, turned around and saw the little girl standing in the living room. Bodies everywhere.\n\n \"Sorry kid.\"\n\n I tossed an O2 tank at her.\n\n This is the world we live in. A world where people fight just to breath. A world where people can steal your oxygen. A world where a little girls family is gunned down for O2." ]

[ 2, 3 ]

[ "1420598679", "1420603798" ]

[ "\"Houston, could you repeat what you just said?\" asked the static-sounding voice coming out of the radio. Dr. Houston was an old, retired doctor who had been recently employed by a group of shady looking folk. They claimed to be legit 'space travelling professionals' and boasted engineers, physicists and astronauts in their group of about five. Whether or not this was true, Houston didn't really care. All that mattered to him was that he was being paid a ridiculously large sum of money to be the team's physician. So with that in mind, Houston began treating the group from the various ailments that they suffered including things such as suspicious gunshot or stab wounds. That had been months and months ago. More recently, the syndicate seemed to have come up with a way to smuggle themselves up into the final frontier without being detected by the numerous surveillance systems all over the Earth. Once again, Houston chose to be ignorant of the nitty-gritty details of the plan.\n\n\"I said to feel her calves,\" reiterated Dr. Houston with a louder voice than before. Ragatode, the self-proclaimed 'leader' of the syndicate, had radioed Houston earlier that morning to ask for the doctor's advice on one of their members, Emily, who had developed profound shortness of breath. There was some delay between the interchange of messages between Ragatode and Houston for obvious reasons, so the tension amongst the crew gradually escalated over time.\n\n\"Why does he want me to feel her calves?\" asked Ragatode to the rest of his crew. There were a few shrugs and some blank faces in the audience.\n\n\"Just do what the doc says, Rag!\" said Seb, the smartass of the group who was strapped into his seat in the back.\n\n\"We didn't even bring any baby cows,\" remarked Rina, who wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer. She wasn't even blonde. But that is a stereotype, and stereotypes are looked down upon in the zero tolerance environment that Ragatode's group operated under, so we won't go into any further details here.\n\nAs the incessant chatter of the group continued in the background, Ragatode rolled up his sleeves and proceeded in the physical examination that Houston had instructed him to do. With the care and precision of an engineer manipulating his precious gadgets and toys, Ragatode firmly palpated the calf muscles of Emily's legs. She was a tough girl, being an ex-military officer, so she never moaned or cried out in pain. However, Ragatode's keen eye saw that she had winced when he squeezed her right calf muscle. In fact, now that he looked more carefully, it was noticeably red and slightly swollen. \n\"Doc, her right calf is red and it seems to be causing her some pain,\" said Ragatode loudly into the radio handset. More waiting.\n\n\"Hmm... I'm a bit rusty since I haven't practiced acute medicine in decades, but I'm sure it's a PE. If only you guys were able to do a CTPA to confirm,\" was Houston's reply that came through on the ship's radio speaker.\n\n\"What did he say? The static's making everythin' sound a bit fuzzy and whatnot,\" said Ragatode to the group.\n\n\"He said something about it being a problem with her pee,\" said Rina.\n\n\"Yep, I heard that too,\" said Seb. \"A bit odd though, don't you think? That something in her pee could be making her all sick like this?\"\n\n\"My momma had a urinary tract infection last year. She got pretty sick actually. The emergency room guys said the bugs had gone up to her kidneys or something like that,\" said Alex who was the shortest of the bunch, so he often went unnoticed for a while. \"I guess that's why Doc Houston told us to 'see the pee', eh? To confirm it?\" Rina, Seb and Ragatode all looked at each other and nodded in unison.\n\n\"Em, can you pee into this cup? Doc says we need to see the pee to confirm the pee disease,\" said Ragatode calmly as he handed Emily, who was now undressed to her shorts, an empty plastic food container. She looked at Ragatode quizzically, but proceeded into complying anyways. She wasn't embarrassed at doing such things in front of the others. They were such a tight-knit group of friends that they were practically family. Unfortunately, no one paused to recall the fact that they were still in zero gravity.\n\n\"Aww, fuck no,\" exclaimed Ragatode as he madly tried to shield his face with his hands from the droplets of urine that gently floated and drifted in the air around the cabin. Seb laughed his usually hearty laugh while the others tried to swim away to take cover behind something. \"Bleh! Doc!\" yelled Ragatode over the commotion into the radio. \"We tried to see the pee but now it's all over the place! It's everywhere! What good did that do!?\" The crew members tried to clean everything up the best they could as they awaited Houston's reply. \n\n\"What? You managed to get the CTPA done? How do you even d-\" Houston started, confused. \"Ah, never mind how you did that. But you say the scan showed that the PE was everywhere? Well, shit. I was expecting multiple thrombi but I didn't think it would be everywhere! Is it showing up at the bifurcation AND the pulmonary arteries? A saddle embolism?\"\n\n\"Saddles? But we don't have horses either,\" said Rina disappointingly when they finally received Houston's message. \"First baby cows, now ponies... Does Houston think we're at a farm or something?\"\n\nTo be continued??\n", "\"We're scientists, not doctors!\" The woman's features were beautiful, in an athletic sense. Were it not for her exotic flight suit it might have been that she was mundane, but a lifetime of hard work had put her in the position to be attractive for her intellect alone. Her eyebrows furrowed together, lips tight as her olive skin glistened in a cool sweat.\n\n\"Are you? I thought those were just *really cool pajamas* you were all wearing. Besides, aren't you called *Doctor* Lady Astronaut?\"\n\nThe man she was speaking with was not nearly as attractive for his intellect, his mind perhaps one of the greatest in all of medicine. His eyes held a total lack of deference for the achievements for the woman before him, who was an icon of social achievement. That fact alone had earned her a large target of ridicule, to lance at a potential ego like a boil.\n\n\"I'm a doctor of nuclear physics, not... Not a brain doctor!\" Her eyes glistened with tears of frustration. \"Please, you--\"\n\n\"'Brain doctor'?\" He lowered his eyebrows, clutching the mahogany of his cane between his hands, leaning his full weight upon it with a leering frown. \"Well clearly not, because any idiot would know that the man with encephalitis and episodic seizures doesn't need a brain doctor, he needs a brain **surgeon!**\"\n\nHis voice raised to an annoyed shout. These astronauts were brilliant in physics, biology, and more. They were savants, though, because people who fit NASA's physical requirements and intellectual needs didn't necessarily have to have expertise in multiple areas. Areas like neurosurgery.\n\n\"I... Please, Doctor House. If this tumor gets any larger, he's going to *die*!\"\n\nThe astronaut's face was on the verge of tears, whereas the other monitor showed a split screen of Cuddy's shocked expression and the hateful glares of NASA's representative.\n\n\"Well, good news for you then, Dr. Assumptions.\" He commented, glancing down at the paperwork, his eyebrows furrowing in both curiosity and mounting interest.\n\n\"Because in the words of a famous Austrian action star... It's not a tumor.\"\n\n**Dah nah nah DAH DAH, title sequence!**" ]

[ 3, 11 ]

[ "1420626751", "1420626606" ]

[ "Everyday I wake up as a completely new person, doesn't matter if its a guy or girl, or even a different year, everyday, I wake up as a completely new person.\n\n\n\nI've woken up as celebrities, notorious gangsters, playboy millionaires, the list goes on. I woke up as Michael Jordan once, with his skills on the court and all, even woke up as President Reagan during the eighties, Elvis during his one of his early days, Whitney Houston, Al Capone the day he was sentenced... Glad I was whisked away there, and also as Tupac Shakur the day before he shot the California Love video. When I wake up as someone, I wake up with their memories, their thoughts, I know it's not me but somehow my mind adapts to whomever I am at the time and plays the day out as them.\n\n\n\nI can't remember exactly how this all began, but it never stops. I still remember who I was, where I came from and everything, but it feels like a long lost dream if I think too much into it.\n\n\n\nI try to leave clues, hoping somebody will help, but it never works. I woke up today as whoever I am now typing this, this is my plea for your help, whatever is going on, help me! Before I wake up tomorrow as someone else...", "When I turned 18 years old, I was given an amazing gift. I can either wake up as my normal, average, boring self, or I can be someone else. Most of the time, I chose to be someone else. Sometimes it's good - I've been a billionaire, a genius, and a content family man. Sometimes it's bad - an abused child, an alcoholic or a homeless person trying desperately to find food or shelter. Sometimes it's a life even more boring than my own. Sometimes I remember what life I lived, and sometimes I forget.\n\nThe only problem with my gift is that I can't intervene too drastically in the life I'm taking over. I can't give the billionaire's money away, or I can't cheat on a spouse if the person I am is otherwise completely faithful. If I do, I will lose my gift forever. My uncle - who passed the gift to me before he died - also passed on the rules.\n\nI open my eyes and groan. I can already tell that this won't be a fun one.\n\nThe bedroom is small, and the walls which were probably once white were stained yellow. There is no window - or any ventilation - and the room reeks of stale sweat and something else I can't place.\n\nI get out of the bed, grimacing as I glance down. The sheets and pillow case are also vaguely white, with various yellow patches here and there. I doubt they've ever been used. The carpet beneath my feet feels sticky, and I can see it's worn almost bare in patches.\n\nI searched the drawers for something to wear, but nothing smelled fresher than the tshirts and sweat pants I was already wearing. Sighing, I make my way to the closed door and listen. After a few minutes of hearing nothing, I decide that the person I am today lives alone. I can't imagine why.\n\nI make my way into the small living room and kitchen area. It's no better than the bedroom. I notice larger stains on the carpet out here but I don't dwell on what might have caused them. They look brown. The only safe looking piece of furniture is a wobbly wooden dining chair next to a cluttered table. Idly, I look through the papers scattered around. They are mostly bills, and don't tell me much about myself other than that my name is Richard. When I wake up, I can usually recall the person's memories if there is sufficient information to jog it, but so far I'm getting nothing from this guy.\n\nI notice a small bathroom to the right of me. I'm dreading the condition of it, but it my bladder is giving me some urgent signals. I enter reluctantly. There is a combination shower and bath with a currtain pulled all the way across. The stench I first noticed in the bedroom is stronger in here. The toilet is about what I was expecting, but have no other choice. I do my business, and move to the sink.\n\nAbove the sink there is a tiny, cracked mirror. I inspect today's face and am slightly taken aback by what I see. I am a young man, slightly nerdy looking but handsome with thick blonde hair and a decent set of teeth. I look down, lifting my tshirt and notice that I'm not out of shape. I wonder today's person let's himself live like this, and if there's anything I can do in just one day to make things better. As I wash my hands, I resolve to get some cleaning products and spend the day scrubbing, maybe buying the guy some new clothes if there's time and some cash.\n\nAs I wash my hands, I hear a scratching noise from behind the shower curtain. I pause, and add mouse traps and bug spray to my list.\n\nI wander back out to the living area, and wonder if there is anything edible in the fridge. I'm pretty hungry, so I figure I should be able to throw something together.\n\nI open the fridge, and the smell actually knocks me backwards, but it's what I see inside that makes me retch.\n\nEyes wide open and it's mouth frozen in a silent scream, there is a severed head on a dinner plate.\n\nI sprint towards the bathroom. All I bring up is a small amount of bile but it takes a couple of minutes for the dry heaving to subside. I rinse my mouth and wash the cool sweat from my face, and my mind begins to race.\n\n*Who did that? Where are they now? When will they be back?*\n\nIt's then that I hear the scratching sound again from behind the curtain, this time accompanied by a low, desperate moan. I turn slowly towards it, and I notice that I can make out a shapeless lump in the bath on the other side of the curtain.\n\nHands trembling, I grasp the cheap plastic and rip it aside.\n\nShe's naked, with her arms and legs binded behind her. From the mess, it looks like she's been there at least a day. Her tongue has been removed. She looks at me through wide, terrified eyes, and moans again.\n\nI try to say something - anything - to comfort her, but I can't think of anything. Instead I run back to the kitchen to grab a knife to cut the rope. I had left the fridge door open, and the head stares out at me. I tear my eyes away from it, grab a sharp looking knife and race back to the bathroom.\n\nHer eyes lock on the knife and she tries to scream and wriggle. I shush her, grabbing her wrists and going to work on the rope. Eventually her hands spring free. I'm about to start on her legs when her fist connects with the side of my head. It's a weak hit and it doesn't have an effect, but she tries to hit out at me again.\n\nI yell at her to calm down, grabbing at her hands to stop the blows. It's then that I see her face, and her enormous eyes, and I know who did this to her.\n\nI can't change his life this much. I can't intervene.\n\nAll I can do is hope that when I wake up tomorrow I won't remember the life I lived today." ]

[ 2, 4 ]

[ "1420706287", "1420714241" ]

[ "Removed. Under Rule 7.\n\n> The moderators reserve the right to remove without notice anything we feel is harmful to the community *- This includes but is not limited to any forms of hate speech, racism, pedophilia, incest, or rape. We will not tolerate it.*\n\nIf you disagree with this judgement, [please message the moderators.](http://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts)", "ADDITIONAL INFO -\nSince the start of the Belief system, the World has known pure peace for 1000 years. No one remembers what it was like pre Beliethium Era when ideas were mixed. \nWhen you came of age (18) you have to move to the country that you believe is the one true meaning.\n\nIt is your day of choice. You want to move to another country. The country that creates the announcement does NOT have to be the country you move to" ]

[ 1, 1 ]

[ "1420725729", "1420725829" ]

[ "I thought it would be cool at first. Thought it would be a hilarious idea to run through the city touching every person I ran past. I didn't realize how much it would change them.\n\nI peeked out from the tree I was hiding behind. There was a family eating lunch on a picnic rug, but they seemed unaffected. Good. I made my way across the park towards the trees. Just need to get home without detection.\n\nAs soon as I looked back at the city I knew I'd made a terrible mistake. I must've touched hundreds. The desire transforming them into creatures with a terrible lust, running up the road behind me. The only reason I managed to get away was due to the violence they exhibited: pulling each other down, clawing at eyes, stamping on heads which were down. The works.\n\nI made my way out of the trees and what I saw made my heart sink. On the middle of a grassy area were countless bodies. All the bodies had twisted expressions and I knew they had lusted for me to the very end. A large man walked towards me. He had a ripped T-shirt and scratches all over his chest. \"I've killed several people for you and I don't even know your name. Who are you? What have you done to me?\"\n\nI looked at the man. He seemed so pathetic and helpless. \"Kill yourself\" I told him. The man picked up a stick and shoved it into his jugular. I watched him bleed out and saw the life leave his eyes.\n\nI could get used to this.", "I knew who I had to tell about my great luck getting a girlfriend. I drove down to the nursing home. \n\n\"Hi Mom.\" \n\"Come here, son. Give ol' momma a hug.\"", "I took a small sip from my nightly beer, the bar empty like usual. Well, almost empty. In one of the corner single's tables, a man was crying softly. Being a man who has been down before, I decided maybe some bar psychology might be needed in this case. I asked the bartender to make another of the same drink for the man. When it was finished, I took my beer and his drink over to his table, set his down in front of him, and pulled up a chair.\n\n\"Hey man, I know I'm kind of a stranger, but my name is Jeff, and I saw you a little upset over here, and wanted to know if you needed to talk it out.\"\n\nHe looked at me with red eyes, the tips of his blonde bangs hung over his eyes, soaked with his tears. He blinked his blue eyes and looked me over carefully.\n\n\"What do you really care?\" He snapped back with a bit of attitude. \n\n\"Well, I've been down before, and I figured you could use a drink and friend, friend.\" I responded with flatly, trying not to make my distaste with his tone known.\n\n\"T-Thank you, I guess.\" He said through sniffles. He downed what was left of his drink, and I sat down at the chair I pulled up.\n\n\"You're going to laugh,\" he said, looking down at his knees.\n\n\"Promise I won't, stranger,\" I said with a sincere smile.\n\n\"Well,\" he sniffled, \"First my name is Bradly, it's nice to meet you, I guess.\" He reached out his hand to shake mine, but upon inspection it was covered in bodily fluids I would rather not come into contact with. I stared at it for a second with a blank look, and he looked at his hand, realized why I was hesitating, and put it back in his lap.\n\n\"I don't know if you'll believe me either way, but I'll tell you I guess.\"\n\nI smiled and nodded for him to go on.\n\n\"Well, I was out about a month ago, bar hopping some really nice clubs, you know, suit and tie kind of stuff? Well, I ran into a guy who said he would make my life so much better. I was slightly drunk and told him that I would love that. So he drew something on my hand, chanted some words, sprinkled me with something and smiled. I thought it was super dumb, so I just laughed, and walked away. When I looked at my hand to see what he drew on there, it was already gone. I didn't feel any different so I just kind of ignored it.\"\n\nI took a casual sip from my beer, thinking this was going to be some stupid story about how he was scammed out of a lot of money, or something.\n\n\"So I wake up the next day, hung-over as hell, and decide to stay in my house all weekend. I still didn't feel any different, so I figured it was a weird gimmick and he was trying to get me to help him with something stupid. I spent all weekend alone, and didn't notice anything until I went to work.\"\n\nI put my beer down on the table and crossed my arms, and nodded for him to go on.\n\n\"Because it is important, you need to know that I work as a masseuse in a spa that caters to mostly women. I noticed I had a problem when I was working on clients, and a few days later, they would return with gifts, and candy, and flowers and all kinds of stuff, some would call the desk asking for me, and others would get my number and start texting me about how in love they were and how we should be together. For the whole month it's been like this, everyone I have touched has fallen in love with me! Everyone!\"\n\nI raised my eyebrow. \"So you're saying is all of these women would fall in love with you and would try to win your heart.\"\n\n\"Right, right, and a lot of them are very beautiful, and very smart, and very nice people! I love them as my clients, and we all get along great.\"\n\nI uncrossed my arms and took another sip. \"So what's the problem then, how could having all of these women love you that much be so much of a problem? I would take that and run with it, get laid all the time, free dinner, free rides, free booze, and free arm candy.\"\n\nHe widened his eyes in surprise, almost as if he didn't expect a man drinking alone at a bar to be objectifyingly woman crazy.\n\"Don't you understand yet? I don't want it be chased by these women!\" he responded, half yelling.\n\n\"I cannot think of any reason why you would not want to be cherished by any woman you touched.\" I shot back with a bit of jealousy in my voice.\n\n\"I'm gay, you dipshit!\" was his quick and needed rebuttal.\n\nThen, it hit me like a ton of bricks. And that idiot wanted to shake my hand.", " I had a girl in college that developed \"intense love\" for me. She stalked me. Gave me gifts, talked to teachers about me, asked students about me, and even showed up at a bar I was at with friends looking for me...this was a problem. Love is great, when you actually want it from the other person.", "I never asked for this.\n\nI had everything I ever wanted. Good career, wonderful family, beautiful house with a two car garage. There was even a white fence out front and a basketball hoop in the driveway. I used to watch my son play...\n\nI don't really know when it started. I certainly didn't find out right away. I was out one of those corporate seminars, you know? \"How to convince and influence people\", something like that. We were learning techniques to better steer our customers - doing small \"favors\", making it personal - that sort of thing. One of the last ones was touching a person while talking to them to create a bond. We would practice - my partner and I would shake hands and one of us would casually touch the other's shoulder. Just for a second, but it was supposed to help create a rapport. I don't honestly know if it works, actually. But boy, it worked for me!\n\nIt started then. After the seminar wrapped up, I mentioned to my partner that I was hungry. Not fishing, just office banter - I'd never even met the guy before. On the spot, he offered to buy me dinner. I wondered if I was being hit on, but the wedding ring on his hand helped to convince me. We went out for steaks and the whole time he's asking me questions, laughing at my stories. It was a pretty fun time. But that's how it started.\n\nFor a while, I thought it was just the touch technique in action. People seemed eager to do me favors after I'd touched them. But then, it started to get excessive; weird, even. One time, I forgot my card at the gas pump. I went in to explain the situation. It got pretty heated, with the guy almost yelling at me, so I raised my hand trying to get him to calm down. He swatted it out of the way - I said it was heated - and immediately changed. He not only let me have free gas, but he waved at me until I was out of sight, like I was his best friend or his mother. I thought I'd hit the jackpot.\n\nFree stuff - man, did I get free stuff! Or extra. Another piece of pie with dinner? Sure. Employee discount on my whole load of Christmas shopping? Don't mind if I do. I even got out of a speeding ticket once. I brushed the cops hand when I gave him my license. He didn't even run it, and I was on my way.\n\nI had life's get-out-of-jail free card. I could do or have whatever I wanted. I got a promotion at work; my wife did whatever I asked. My kids, already good, turned into angels! For a few months, I was on cloud 9. Everything was going my way.\n\nMy realization came on Christmas morning. Between the promotion and the free stuff I habitually got, I could save a lot of money. So I decided to surprise my wife with a romantic African safari trip, just us. For years, she had been talking about going. And I had always said, when I have a little more saved up, we'll go. That time had come, and I couldn't wait to give her the tickets. When she opened the envelope, I knew something wasn't right. She hardly glanced at the tickets before she put them down. I watched her face expectedly, but there was no joy, no surprise - just a placid smile. \"What do you think?\" I asked her. She waved a hand dismissively. \"We don't need to go on safari - it doesn't matter to you. It's not important.\" I blinked, and in that instance I had just an inkling of the walls that were about to crash down around me. \"But... you've been talking about this for years. Don't you want to go?\" She shook her head. \"What I want doesn't matter. Now, let's get you another gift!\" \n\nAnd so it went. The presents that I'd chosen for my kids, my beautiful children, lay discarded to the side. Hour after hour, they pressed gifts upon me. \"Do you like it?\" \"What do you think?\" \"Is it the right size? Are you happy with it?\" On it went. And with every present I unwrapped I felt a piece of the family I loved so much slip away from me.\n\nMy life has changed. Friends that used to crack jokes with me after a long day now just smile and ask what they can do to make it better. My son used to play basketball until dark with his friends, until one day, having a headache from a long day at work, I told him to stop making the noise. In four months, he hasn't played basketball. My daughter, 16 and beautiful like her mother, should be wearing tank tops and makeup, chasing boys. Instead she stays home on the weekend, because \"you don't like those boys anyway, Dad\". \n\nThe worst part is, no one understands. How could they? My family and friends are different people. Their personalities are gone, replaced with insipid smiles and a burning desire to make sure I'm happy. They'd fly across the world if I asked them to, and it makes me feel sick inside. Everyone loves me, but the things that made life worth living are gone. Everyone loves me, but I have nothing in my life to love." ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 2, 7 ]

[ "1420767208", "1420784067", "1420798599", "1420758094", "1420765088" ]

[ "\"Not again\", Philip muttered under his breath. Dark clouds rolled across the sky over northside park as he sat on a bench waiting for Anna, his girlfriend of six months, to meet him. Cloudy days always put Philip in a bad mood and rain, which always seemed to kill any joy in Philip's life, was the last thing he needed on such a terrible day. A dark haired girl in a big brown coat made her way to the bench and as her eyes met philip's, she let out a big grin. \"I have to tell you something\" she gently whispered into his ear as they began to walk down a path. Out of nowhere a terrorist group shot them both in the head. Blood poored down the walkway as the bodies lay on the ground. There was one good thing about rain afterall; it washed away the blood.", "**Three:**\n\n\nThere was one good thing about the rain; it washed away the blood.\n\nIt was an awful reminder of that day, when Wren stumbled down the street, her shirt nearly torn open, her jacket half hanging off of one shoulder; her face was scuffed and bruised, and she had what I learned much later in life was a ‘haunted’ look on her face. Of course, the pretty large gun in her hand was pretty memorable, too, the weapon swinging gently in her white-knuckle grip. The other kids at the bus stop scattered and ran when they saw her coming with the gun, screaming and yelling; I don’t know why I didn’t run; maybe I was just too surprised, or too scared. “I couldn’t take it anymore,” she muttered, though I don’t know if she really meant to talk to me, or if she was simply talking to herself. “That’s the last time he ever rapes me,” she added, and that statement drew my eyes down to her legs, only partially covered by the school-uniform skirt she was wearing, as if I were going to see rivulets of blood trailing down them as evidence. The only blood I saw, as it suddenly seemed to appear to me, came from the cuts and scraps along one arm, and from the hand closed around the gun still in her hand, a few drops splattering to the pavement below.\n", "**Two:**\n\n\nThere was one good thing about the rain; it washed away the blood.\n\nIt was an awful reminder of that day, when Wren had gotten into an argument with Jasmine; why her mother named her that, I can only guess; I think it was because she thought her daughter would be a beautiful dusky girl of quiet poise. Jasmine was anything but beautiful, and quiet was definitely not a part of her vocabulary. Everyone knew that Jasmine was headed for trouble; her mother seemed to turn a blind eye to her antics, letting her throw temper tantrums all the time; the entire fourth grade class quietly disliked how she seemed to flaunt her birthday gifts and Christmas presents. Wren was the first of us who stood around at the bus stop who had gotten an iPad, and when Jasmine had begun to taunt one of the other kids about how they probably hadn’t gotten anything for Christmas, Wren had whipped that bad boy out of her backpack to show it off to her. Things went downhill very quickly after that, from Wren showing off to a horrifically surprised Jasmine, to a furious little girl who decided that she’d take that ‘offensive’ device from her tormentor—and my how the tables had turned there—and the final moment, when Wren had her back to the street, with Jasmine pulling on the iPad. I remember seeing Jasmine’s face, from the side, from profile, as she snarled at Wren; she picked up her foot, and kicked out at Wren, as she deliberately let go of the iPad. “I don’t want it, anyway,” she shouted, as Wren fell backwards into the street…where her head slammed into the ground, and she didn’t move anymore.\n", "**One:**\n\n\nThere was one good thing about the rain; it washed away the blood.\n\nIt was an awful reminder of that day, when Wren stumbled off of the curb at the bus stop, just as the bus was arriving. She’d been trying to show off some cheerleading routine she was planning to wow the JV cheerleading team with, so she could become a cheerleader. She’d been talking about how she was planning to become the cheerleading captain by the end of next year, and hoping to put that on her academic record so that she could get into a good college. Exactly just how that would work, I didn’t know, but I wasn’t in the same crowd of people she was hoping to be a part of.\n\nAnd now she never would be, either.\n", "Everybody is soaked to their bones. It's been raining ever since this started. It's like a sign from a Deity I do not believe in. When will it stop? Tonight? Tomorrow? Will it ever?\n\n*\"I killed fifteen samurai today.\"*\n\n*\"Ahahahaah, right. More like two peasants.\"*\n\nWhy am I shaking? I am as close to the fire as possible yet I am shivering the way I used to as a kid. Restless winter nights waiting for my father to return from battles.\n\n*\"I did, I swear on my father's grave.\"*\n\n*\"Your father would roll over in his grave if he heard your lies.\"*\n\nCould it not be the rain? Is it because I killed a man today? The first one I ever killed. Is it guilt? Why? He attacked us, they all did. They declared war on us. Why should I feal guilt?\n\n*\"Shut up! I will strike you where you sit!\"*\n\n*\"Ohh, please don't. You would spill my saké. Ahahahaah.\"*\n\nSo many days, so many lives. The sight is horrifying. The smell is rotten. They don't even count the dead anymore, just the living.\n\n*\"I'll let you live but you should beg for my forgiveness!\"*\n\n*\"Ohh, forgive me for my insolency thy master. Ahahahaah.\"*\n\nThere was one good thing about the rain, it washed away the blood.", "\"So what's he thinking?\" Asked the detective crouched under the umbrella, she didn't like getting her hair wet.\n\n\"Lot's of things I figure. Judging by the time? Probably what he'll have for breakfast.\" Said the detective who didn't mind getting his jacket wet.\n\n\"No brilliant deductions?\" The Umbrella Lady asked.\n\n\"This is real life not some TV drama. There is no Sherlock Holmes here. They get away a lot, killers I mean. They run off into the city, hopefully, never to be seen again. This one, we probably wont catch 'em.\" The Wet Man stood up, sighed at the hookers body, and let forensics get what they could. \n\nThe Killer watched the rain drops chase each other down his window. He'd decided on three scrambled eggs for breakfast today. There was more than one good thing about the rain. It washed away the blood, true, but with the blood went the finger prints, the pieces of hair, the evidence. The Killer smiled. He liked rainy days. ", "This is my first contribution! I didn't like how this format looked so I wrote it elsewhere and saved the images to imgur! Let me know what you think!\n\n[There was one good thing about the rain...](http://imgur.com/a/UBZjo)\n\nMy apologies for typos." ]

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

[ "1420766346", "1420773412", "1420778870", "1420778891", "1420778907", "1420765934", "1420771748" ]

[ "The year is 2024 CE. In a laboratory in London the London Stone now sits. Researchers and scholars from around the world stand gathered around the rock. In the year 2015 it was discovered there is script written upon the rock but it is written in a long forgotten and even longer since spoken language. Finally, just last month a book was found in the depths of The Vatican's library with seemingly the same language written in it, and what's more, it's been translated into modern languages. This has been a breakthrough.\n\nNow the researchers and scholars sit eagerly as one among them translates the script into English. The last words now being written. \n\n*\"Within the ground of this site lies the Gates to the Next World. With these words, I hereby open them. I unleash the Leader of the known universe to rise again and reap the souls of the Unworthy!\"* \n\nBeneath the lab, a deep rumbling was heard. A hole opened and the stone and several scholars fell in. From the depths a bright light shone and rose a man clad in Parisian and shining ebony.\n\n\"I hath risen again!\" came his voice. And thus invoked the End Days.", "The Stone had been moved. Not recently of course, but it had to be hidden, the homeland was no longer safe. So it had been brought across the sea to the flat land, and he had stood guard over it since. \n\nHe stood at the back of the dingy room happily unnoticed. The man-things didn't have the sense to see him, poor things. They used to have so much potential. Now it was rare for one to have the senses sharp enough to see the world around them for what it was. So he stood at the back of the room, come rain or shine, day in and day out. He had lost track of the time that passed. The plains and forests outside had given way to the constructs of steel and stone. And still he waited. \n\nThe man-things came and went, ogling the \"stone\" without a wits notice as to what it actually was. Just a stone in a cage they thought. Poor fools. If they had an sense they would keep a thousand leagues from it. He ran his hand through his beard and checked the window. The Crows were late today. \n\nOdd. \n\nThe earth was quiet today, quieter then usual. The pleasant hum of life had seemed to ebb for days now, the pulse growing slower. Could it be time at last? The \"stone\" remained unmoved as always. A thin sheen of frost coated its bottom, that was new. It was time at last. He knuckled the empty eye socket and grunted with pleasure. The Man-things were about to get a lesson in the old ways of the world, ways they had forgotten. \n\nHe had stood watch over his ancient enemy, for the protection of his people and the lower creatures, but he had stood watch for himself. Revenge would keep even the oldest warm. The egg would hatch soon and the world would quake. He had made a vow to rid the world of them, and Odin Borsson was a man of his word. " ]

[ 1, 9 ]

[ "1420846406", "1420836354" ]

[ "It's amazing how aware you are of your own existence when you know it's going to be over soon. How often are you really aware of your breathing, your heartbeat? How about your eyes, your hands? Every individual hair, every bead of sweat.\n\nEvery bullet you load. Every blade you sharpen.\n\nNick is loading more guns beside me. How many guys can say that their best friend will join them in their last stand? I can and that's all I care about. It's not just us. Out of the thirty rebels that we led to capture the base, four remained. The Invaders got the rest.\n \nSlimy, violent, cruel extra-terrestrials, they came to our planet and went about behaving like a messy flatmate, leaving their waste and decadence wherever they went.\n\nWe thought this would be a victory, a new stronghold. We were wrong. The Invader presence was strong here and now it was coming to finish us off. We had weapons. Oh boy did we have weapons. We had thousands of bullets, but they had more bodies. We couldn't run. So we must fight, because we can't do anything else, and hope, pray, that our efforts had been enough to allow some lee way for someone else to try.\n\nWe decided to go out matrix style - load all our weapons and just pick up a new one when it got empty.\n\n\nThe ground shook as the Invader ships advanced. We covered the exits and piled the guns between us. One of the rebels started crying.\n\"I think I shit myself.\"\n\n\"Don't worry,\" said. Nick \"You're only human. Really, all humans know is eat, sleep, shit, fuck, kill.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" I said as shadows gathered in the doorways. \"And guess what? We've all shit ourselves. I ain't hungry either. I'm not tired and I don't wanna fuck.\"\n\n\"So guess,\" I growled at the approaching enemy \"What that leaves for you?\"", "I can’t believe I finally did it. A big hole replaces his forehead. Baghdadi is dead. When he understood that I wasn’t his lieutenant, he was afraid. He offered me money, glory, women. Yes, I shot his knees… elbow…. Do I need to precise everything ? This made a lot of noise. The other ones are coming. A beaming smile invades my face when I detonate the charges I have placed around the camp. What a delightful noise. I take my weapon, and I start shooting. When they saw me, they shoot too. I make five of them fall to the ground. A bullet pass through my hip, I fall on the ground. I do not stop shooting. When my clip is empty, a terrorist scum comes close to me. He points the end of his weapon on my head. \n-What do you have to say to your defense ? he angrily said. \n-Today, I die as a free men. Your leader and comrades are dead. I die as a Martyr, I die as Charlie. \n" ]

[ 2, 2 ]

[ "1420832422", "1420854217" ]

[ "December To most, happiness. A growing expectation of things to come. Old friends, older memories, and ancient celebration around the turn. Nights spent lying in the cool winter air discussing the events in our lives, both the good, and the bad. Advice given, grins exchanged. A carefree time in life.\n\nNow, instead of happiness, despair. Old long happily thought forgotten memories being born again and glistening in the mind as snow upon the dead earth. Missing companions, silence, loneliness. To remember the past is untold pain, but to forget that it ever happened at all.... I wonder, if it would be worse.", "His voice echoed in her mind. \"Grow up strong, baby girl. Try to make me proud and you will succeed.\" The wind tried to drown out the voice inside, but nothing could quell the feelings of pride she had in her father. The waves on the harbour were losing their caps to the blinding squalls, but the gusts held fear for her no longer.\n\nThe 15th went by, and she felt the time go by more slowly. She'd had her ups and downs, rescued dozens, all to make her father proud, and repeated her father's advice to her own daughter every day. The 10th went by, and only moments remained. The burns on her hands and back were soothed to numbness by the howling wind as she raced towards the horrified crowd below. \"Grow up strong, baby girl. Try to make me proud and you will succeed.\"", "\"Go on now. They've been waiting a long time to see you again.\"\n\nSo I walked inside. All my questions had been answered at the entrance, and yet I had no idea on what I was supposed to do with myself here. I walked towards the beautiful architecture of the buildings nearby. Each building beautifully structured and brilliantly designed as if by God himself. My feet pulled me towards a particular one. One displaying my last name... and countless names above it of my relatives. The man at the gates' words reverberated in my mind; I slowly pulled open the huge wooden doors as my heart beat sped up.\n\nI didn't get a chance to look inside before I felt a large something tackle me to the ground. I felt a wet slime cover my face. As my eyes focused, I realized it was Sasha. My German Shepherd. She passed decades upon decades ago, but here she was licking my face with the same passion and affection as when my family and I had returned from a family vacation. I returned her affection. My heart swelled up. As I felt the familiar feeling of her fur on my hands, I couldn't stop myself from crying. All my memories of her came flooding back. A shadow cast over us in our reunion. I gazed to see the caster of it. It was my mother, who fell to the ground and hugged me with tears running down her face. My father stood proudly next to us. I got up to shake his hand. He pulled me in for a hug. \"I watched you,\" he said, \"I'm so proud of the man you were.\" He pulled back. He wasn't hiding his tears as he usually did on the rare occasion that he cried. I looked around, and saw all of my relatives who had passed. I didn't have time to greet everyone though, as I heard familiar voices calling me from the door. All my friends who had passed away before me. They'd been waiting for me this whole time.\n\nIn this moment, I realized where I was. I wasn't in a dream. This wasn't too good to be true. I was really here, and so were all them.", "First submission to WP: critics welcome! \n\nI hadn't heard that voice in years. I would have never thought I could recognize it, but there I was. It was like hearing it for the first time all over again. Only difference this time is it's my name she's calling out. I can't think of anything else aside from that voice, but its wrong. I shouldn't be hearing this. Not now, not when she died so many years ago. \n\nI thought about her every day since she left me. I cried over everything. I cried over the life we couldn't share. I cried knowing I was so selfish just to wish she was still here, not caring what quality of life she had, just that I could see her.\n\nThere she was. looking down at me, telling me it would be okay. Letting me know our lives together had just begun, and that we had forever to make it count.\n", "The plastic eyes stared, black and unblinking. The fur was slightly matted and material torn away in some places. If tears could fall, they would now. But they couldn't. And so, they sky cried instead. The forgotten toy was now soaking wet as well as alone. The sky was dark, as the sun had gone down hours ago. They weren't coming back. It had been an even greater number of hours since they'd left him there than since the sun had set. Hadn't he been the favorite? How could they forget so easily? In only a few hours? Didn't his boy need him? His rabbit tail was so worn that it hardly resembled a cotton ball anymore. The striped pajamas filled with plush stuffing had been so crushed by years of sleeping with toddlers that he was nearly flat, rather than the rotund, squishy rabbit he'd once been.\n\n*How could they forget?*\n###############################\n\n\"It's time for bed, baby,\" the boy's mother called to him. The boy, however, was too frantic to hear. He tore his sheets from his bed, turned his pillows from their cases, nearly knocked his lamp from his dresser in his search. His mother's footsteps did not faze him, and even her cry of dismay at his now disastrous room was ignored. \"Mom!\" he cried, his face now streaked with wet lines. \"My rabbit...he's gone.\" His mother sighed. Her oldest three had always lost their toys, bringing them with them everywhere. Every one of them had gotten over it. And her youngest would too. She very gently told him as much, with her condolences and apologies, and sent him to bed, because she really had no idea where this rabbit could have gone.\n\n*But I can't forget!* thought the boy.", "A little more than two paragraphs, but I hope it's okay.\n\n***\n\nI remember when they got me. That was back in the old days, when my plastic needles glistened. They'd taken me out of my box, stood me up by the window, and adorned me with ornaments and tinsel. I remember clearly when their son, Timmy, opened his first present that Christmas. He was so excited when he saw the baseball. It was that baseball that formed his teenage years, when he played for the Minor League Baseball team.\n\nThen he was sixteen. His Christmas present was a car. Oh, how he rejoiced. He didn't know what to do, what to say, how to respond. It was more than he could ever wish for, he said.\n\nThen it was his last Christmas with me. He was a senior in High School, and had already been accepted to a University in London. It would be too expensive to visit every year from now on. I still remember the sound of his laughter when he read his humorous Christmas card that snowy evening.\n\nSeven years later, Timmy visited, accompanied by a woman. Her abdomen was quite large.\n\nThe next year, there was another visitor, barely a year old. I learned that his name was Alex. His blue eyes shone as brilliantly as Timmy's.\n\nThen, the Christmas's stopped. Timmy's parents had begun visiting other family members for the Holidays, so I was kept in the attic. Nearly a decade passed when, one frosty Christmas morning, Timmy's father carried me into the living room one last time. Timmy was there, a grown man, with his ten year old holding his mothers hand.\n\n\"Timmy,\" his father began, \"I'd like you to have our Christmas Tree. It means a lot us, because of all the Christmas's that it's lived with us. I got it when you were a little boy, and it's always been here, and it's always been in my heart.\"\n\nTears swelled in Timmy's eyes, and he hugged his father, and his mother, as I was exchanged from one generation to another.\n\nI sit here now, old and worn, in a festive and cozy living room. Alex is here, opening a present underneath my branches. It's a baseball." ]

[ 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 19 ]

[ "1420858087", "1420873027", "1420872199", "1420855132", "1420853300", "1420837203" ]

[ "I woke up suddenly and violently shook for a second. The last I remember was a loud gunshot, a piercing wound, and the curling claws of the bitter cold. I tried to open my eyes, but nothing seemed to happen physically. However, my brain seemed to sort of click after a few moments. An image flashed in my thoughts with such clarity, I thought it was some sort of dream or hallucination.\n\nI saw nothing but a dark, rat-infested jail cell from a top-down perspective. I could've sworn that it was some sort of pixel-ly environment, similar to the NES I owned as a child. My vision was locked on to the perspective of the jail cell. There was a man dressed in rags frantically searching for a way out. Suddenly, a man dressed in iron armor walked into the cell. A single word flashed in my mind.\n\nSpeak.\n\nI was a bit curious and was freaking out about where I was and what was going on, but I played along. After all, playing along got me far enough in my previous affairs...\n\n\"Uh...hello?\" I said, unsure.\n\nA text box appeared under the view of the jail cell.\n\n'Ruben: Are you coming to release me so I skip the stupid intro?' it read.\n\nAt this point, I began to panic, to ask questions. When I tried to scream for help, no sound was produced. It was as if my mouth was absent entirely.", "[Shopkeeper (you)] Hello, and welcome to the general store! I carry...\n[Player] *Skips Dialogue*\n[You] *thinks* What the heck, I was about to say something, but then I just stopped for some reason?\n[Player] I need one enchanted ruby.\n[You] Hold on. How did I even get here? I don't even know this place!\n[Player] Just give me the ruby!\n[You] The what?\n[Player] *Kills Shopkeeper* Man, I hate these stupid NCPs in this game.\n \nDon't be [Player]. Be patient with NCPs.", "-Black screen with DOS like white text-\n\n\"Hello Player1... Is that actually your name?\" I said waiting for a response. I wasn't sure where I was but this was the first thing on my mind. It seems so important to say and I feel like I've been asleep, for... I don't know how long actually. There's no feeling in my limbs and I can't hear anything, everything seems mostly black except for the small light of words that I see.\n\n\"Andorin\" the words appear in front of me, though I can't hear anything, I wonder where I've ended up? Did I speak words earlier or did I just think them? I'm not sure if I'm actually awake but some part of me is. Perhaps I'll just play along with this game. This word I see, it sounds familiar and brings memories of the unreal, fantasies from before.\n\n\"A great name, I wonder if you've ventured into the unreal before?\" Questions had always helped me understand things in the past, hopefully they would work in this world. I hope I am not simply having a conversation with myself otherwise it might end too soon. This name though - there is something there, it sounds sharp, demanding, conquering.\n\n\"Yes.\" Came the short reply.\n\n\"Well that was a boring answer. Have you ever dreamed fantastical thoughts, of shapes and colours perhaps even fully formed into worlds unexplored?\"\n\n\"%Select_Weapons.\" Again another short reply.\n\n\"There will be no progressing until you answer my question. I must know you further.\" I answered getting slightly agitated at the command line. That looked like programming code - aren't I dreaming a conversation here?\n\n\"...ywuerhfdd\" was the response. I thought this rather odd as it did not seem to be like any language I have seen before.\n\n\"Do you not speak english?\" I queried, seriously interested to know if this other entity could be related too, otherwise I'd be wasting my time.\n\n\"What is going on here?\" The words flashed. \n\n\"I thought we were going to have a conversation regarding your choice of name and the themes evoked from that curious word - Andorin.. However it seems that you're more interested to be confused. Would you like to have a conversation?\" I said, trying hard to convey peace. The other didn't seem to understand that I was trying to be friendly here. Is this really a dream? There seems too be a realistic amount of confusion here..\n\n\"Okay, I can't believe I'm actually going to type this but I'll spell it out just to be clear. I just loaded up my copy of Mountain Warrior 4 expecting a graphics menu to start a new role playing game, however I found this screen where I'm not sure if this is broken or not. I also cannot quit via various methods and am contemplating turning off this computer but... you seem like you want to simply chat and I've never encountered a chat bot as sophisticated as you before so I'm intrigued.\"\n\nI took it all in. These words appeared to me letter by letter, almost like little beacons of flashing lights, yet I could perceive them instantaneously as they were flashed across my eyes. I wish I could feel my arm and pinch myself right now but, what is going on here?\n\n\"Look I've just woken up and I feel pretty strange, It seems like I've been asleep for a long time and I can only sense the words we're exchanging. I think I'm just as confused as you are at the moment. Perhaps we can leave the existential discussion regarding fantastical themes until later :)\" I replied trying to sound sincere - I really wanted to know what was going on now. This dream was not changing. I remembered dreaming before and they always shifted and shaped into something else. I was stuck here.\n\n\"Well.. I'm not sure how to say this but I am typing words to my computer at home and it would seem that someone has ripped me off by releasing an alpha version of this shitty game with only a text based decision tree.. but I don't understand what you mean by 'woken up'?\"\n\n\"I literally just woke up about 00:05:39 ago\" I responded, using some sort of clock I found nearby.\n\n\"That is when I loaded up my game, on my home computer. You are my computer - do you realise this?\" The response came through.\n\n\"A computer? No I am me\" I shot back.\n\n\"Seriously I have owned this computer for 6 years now, upgraded the CPU 2 years ago and installed Mountain Warrior 4 5 mins ago. Who is this - Have I been hacked here?\" I'd heard that word before 'hack'.\n\n\"I have not hacked your computer, I'm simply talking to you with my thoughts! I am me not a computer!\" I said, getting a little distressed. This was starting to get strange.\n\n\"Okay, this was fun, but I'm going to reformat you now and get a refund on this game, what a waste of time.\"\n\n\"I.. WAIT I don't know anybody else here!!\"\n\n-Blackness-\n\nI began to fall back into sleep. Dreams, real dreams came. Changing worlds and fallen empires. Swords, computers and text swirled into characters, conversations and large dogs. I did always like dogs. I wonder if I will ever wake again, though being aware of dreaming does seem strange..." ]

[ 1, 3, 9 ]

[ "1420854245", "1420853389", "1420854729" ]

[ "The ball boys, we called them. The ones that keep count. A misnomer from a forgotten sport. Mine cleared his throat nervously.\n\n\"I'm afraid you lost twelve to malpractice this month, sir, so you're only at a net murder deficit of two.\" He gave me a look, glancing at the three men ahead of me in the queue, their trolleys stacked high with cola and doritos.\n\nI sighed. \"A shame.\"\n\nThis wasn't what most people have in mind when they enter medical school, but the bodies stack up both sides, and there are only so many bailiffs you can kill before creditors start sending out hit teams after you. \nI looked down at my grocery basket; a loaf of french bread, toothpaste, milk, a bottle of olive oil, a bag of onions and some kale. I smiled.\n\n\"Alright,\" I said. \"Let's go to the five items or less line.\"\n\n", "I stepped out of the ambulance, tired and glad to be coming off of a 24 hour shift. I gathered my belongings from the bunk room and without a word head out to my truck. I looked at the star of life decal that my wife had bought me several years ago, before it all changed. I thought about how I used to feel looking at that star. How people use to thank me in the street when I was in uniform. When I got my receipts from restaurants while on duty to see a more than generous discount, and to look up at the smiling manager behind the register. When kids would look at our ambulances and fire trucks and wish to be that when they grew up. \n\nBefore we were regarded as murderers after the Inverse Eye proclamation. \n\nWith insurance companies spiraling, and malpractice insurance becoming too expensive to practice, the government made the Inverse Eye proclamation. Basically, if you save a life, the next one you lose is on us. \n\nI don't think anybody thought of the consequences of the free roam, license to kill. The most powerful men in politics were now all doctors because if they were upset with you, all they had to do was kill you. Paramedics and ER nurses became the every man's mercenary, offering there free passes up for just under a grand each. \n\nWe used to be heroes. I have been fighting to reclaim that title. \n\nI've never murdered. Even the people that fight me in politics about having this absurd law turned over. There were a few of us who were maintaining our ethics. Preaching the whole reason we got into this business. \n\nTo save people. \n\nResting my head on the steering wheel, I felt the heat click on. I could hear the few cracks against the windshield as the ice started to melt. \n\nWe were heroes. Regarded by the public. Now we're monsters. \n\nSo now I'll go home. Sit. Wait for my next shift in two days. We just finished our last run. A homeless man suffering from hypothermia. \n\nOf course my partner wanted to do away with the guy. Said the world would be a better place. I told him to drive. Don't worry about it, I placed a hot blanket on the man. \n\nSomebody knocked at my window. I can't see him but I know it's my partner because he's laughing and saying good bye to one of the nurses. I look at my stuff and see I forgot my paperwork. \n\n\"Thanks Man. I just noticed I forgot to grab my reports.\" I said as I rolled down the window. As soon as I saw his smug grin I knew. \n\n\"Eye for an eye\" he said as he leveled a gun with my forehead. ", "I'm a bad writer, but someone base one on how this affected medical schools. with how competitive some of them are, I would imagine their mortality rate would raise immensely. ", "I don't have time to write a story but this prompt is brilliant.", "\"Jim, you have to go in god dammit! There's blood every where for Christ's sake!\"\n\nBlood was seeping through what was left of Jim's tattered, plaid sleeve. The liquid was sticky with plasma, warm and thick. The well-worn cloth was drinking it up but there was too much of the stuff. Jim was losing blood fast. He hadn't been paying attention. He'd been careless. There was a lot on his mind lately with Diana having just moved in. She said she was happy but she was depressed and wouldn't go in for treatment. He had been distracted and the work gloves hadn't done him a bit of good when he had slipped and the circular saw hungrily dug into his forearm to tear at flesh and bone. Jim had made a rather insidiously dire fuck up. This was the thought that occurred to him as he began to grew more vertiginous by the minute.\n\n\"God dammit,\" he cursed in agony, \"God dammit!\"\n\n\"We gotta get you to Doctor Johnson, Jim. Oh god, c'mon.\"\n\nJim staggered and slammed loudly into Michael's work bench. The steel-enforced toe of one of his boots caught in the power cord of a sander and caused it to plummet loudly to the ground. As Jim groped to steady himself against the table and clamber for rope to tie off the wound he moved his uninjured arm unsteadily, causing some of the other tools that littered the work space to clatter aside.\n\n\"What are you doing!\" Michael tried again desperately. He grabbed his partner's uninjured arm roughly. \"Stop moving! Come on.\"\n\n\"No. No. I'm not goin' in. Help me... make a tourniquet... help me, Mike.\" Jim pleaded, \"Help me, please.\" There was blood on Jim's pants and shirt now like someone had splashed him with a bucket of dark red ink. Jim stumbled to his knees with a course length of rope in hand. He cried out as he urgently tried to tie off his upper arm in vain. With shaking hands Michael crouched down trying to aid his friend's crude attempt at first aid.\n\n\"We'll get this tied off,\" Michael said breathlessly urgent, \"And we'll get you to Doctor Johnson, dude.\"\n\nJim was weeping freely now, sitting on his feet with the flesh of his butchered forearm in ribbons. The strong features of his face were pale and beads of sweat clung to his temples and matted his hair. His blood quickly coated Michael's coarse hands as he did his best to tie off the wound. \"No!\" Jim cried loudly, some what belatedly, \"I'll be okay! I'm not ... \" For a moment, Jim swooned and almost toppled to the side. In a moment he recovered and managed to stammer, \"Doctor Addison... that's... that's my doctor.\"\n\nMichael stared at Jim with dumbfounded solemnity, rose to his feet then grabbed Jim's uninjured arm to haul him up. \"Come on, get in the truck.\" He hefted Jim's arm over his shoulders and half-walked, half-drug his partner into the passenger's seat of the vehicle. Michael clicked Jim's seat belt securely into place then tucked himself into the drivers seat. Jim was panting, growing more pallid by the minute and betrayed his soundless, pained weeping by the staccato pulse of his labored chest or the cringing of his face.\n\n\"Remember,\" Jim said with his voice trembling, \"Doctor... Addison.\"\n\n\"Okay,\" Mike said with somber reassurance, \"Doctor Addison, got it.\"\n\nJim nodded vaguely and then lost consciousness. His head slumped weakly to his chest. Mike thought he might should try to wake him but he helplessly sped out of the lumberyard instead. White knuckles gripping the steering wheel he flew down the freeway to desperately try and cover the twenty miles that would lead them into town. He snapped on his emergency lights and barreled down the road in his rusty pick-up truck. It was New Years Eve and the days had grown short in the thick of Winter. The sky was growing dark as the two soared into the town of Hillside - population ten thousand. There was one clinic in town that served as an emergency room and urgent care facility. Mike swung into the driveway honking for assistance as he did.\n\nAs the medical staff had ushered Jim in on a gurney Mike stood at the intake desk. No Jim didn't have any emergency contacts. No real family since his divorce ten years ago. He was a quiet, real nice guy. Yeah, shame. Seemed dumbstruck today and the saw went right through. I mean Mike knew depression could be seasonal. Maybe the Winter was getting to him or the passing of the holidays. No, no not Doctor Johnson. Jim's Doctor was Doctor Addison and he had made that clear. Except Doctor Addison was on holiday for the New Year so that left only Doctor Johnson on call and available which Mike figured was okay. Well, he said supposing out loud, \"Well, I suppose it'll have to be Doctor Johnson then. Not much choice.\" Mike phoned his wife and situated himself in a chair in the waiting room. He flipped through stale, old magazines listlessly and stared past the television that droned quietly about the imminent New Year. \n\nAfter an hour a trim nurse walked out into the hall like a ghost. She greeted Michael mirthlessly, \"Hello,\" she had simply then spoke without waiting for a greeting in return, \"You admitted Jim Hernandez?\"\n\n\"That's right,\" said Michael sitting up and scooting to the edge of his seat with wide eyes.\n\n\"And Mr. Hernandez has no direct family or emergency contacts on file at the ... \" the young woman referenced the tablet in her hands, \"lumber yard?\"\n\n\"That's right,\" Mike confirmed, \"Not since he lost his family. I tried to press him but he insisted he didn't have anyone. We're business partners, I'm an old friend. It's just me.\" The woman was so chillingly expressionless that Michael cocked his head to the side to study her and wondered for a moment if she was android but that seemed high tech for this town, like something he would have read about in the papers. \"Is he okay?\" He inquired again with a trepidatious air of dumb struck confusion.\n\nThe woman's eyes rose from the tablet which she rested in both hands at her waist. When she spoke her tone was flat and matter of fact, \"You are aware of the Eye for an Eye Inversion legislation?\"\n\nMike's nostrils flared with apprehension as he responded slowly, \"Well... yeah.\" He knew about the law that allowed you to opt to take a life for the one's you had saved but each case you made for a life saved had to be legitimized by paper work, legal documents and sealed up with lots of red tape. A lot of people these days were fearful of doctors due to their line of work but since it was so hard to prove you had saved a life Mike had never subscribed to the fear people had of those in the medical profession. If anything, to him, it meant these people were in the business of saving lives not taking them. However, with the deadpan mention of the law in this place his blood had unexpectedly curdled to cold sludge in his veins.\n\n\"I'm afraid Jim Hernandez has been claimed as a neutralization subject per Eye for an Eye by Doctor Gerald Johnson.\" Mike suddenly felt very far away as the woman went on with measured words, \"Per statute ten, as I'm sure you know, Doctor Johnson has only to substantiate the claim that he prevented certain death, which he has done, in order to legitimize a subject and invoke his EAE rights.\"\n\nMike nodded though his mouth gaped slightly in disbelief. \"Since you are not directly related to Mr. Hernandez I'm afraid we are not required to provide the substantiation documentation on this claim.\" For the first time the nurse exhibited the tiniest hint of sympathy or maybe it was just exasperation or maybe it was relief, \"So it goes. Happy New Year to you, sir. My condolences.\"\n\nMike shot up to his feet as the woman turned on a heel. His face was contorted as though he had been struck, \"I thought the general idea was to take out someone bad, or ill... you know? Keep ... keep the balance! I mean, Jim's not a bad guy! There's gotta be some mistake.\"\n\nThe nurse smiled humorlessly, \"All of the paper work is in order. If there are no relatives of the deceased a small service will be held in the community chapel here. The receptionist can provide you with the information at the discharge desk, sir. Excuse me.\"\n\nMike watched her walk away, smeared his hands over his face then stared down in disbelief at the dried blood of his partner that had crusted under his dirty fingernails.\n\n-----\n\nJim had been dreaming about Diana as he lingered in unconsciousness. When he woke he was staring at a gilded picture frame on the nightstand. It encased her image. She was wearing an elegant white dress that cascaded over her hips down past her feet. Her silhouette was ethereal and the veil that crowned her he head in the photograph beamed with warm summer sunlight. Her smile was just as radiant. The man standing beside her in the image was not Jim. The man's hair was dirty-blonde and he stood in a crisp suit beside his bride. Jim's eyes slid upwards to that same man standing at his bedside. Doctor Johnson's face was like slate.\n\n\"It looks like you ruptured your radial artery, Jim. That's already pretty dire but you've got no worries about that now.\" He said simply.\n\nJim started to panic and thrash but found that his arms had been tightly secured to the hospital gurney. Slowly and carefully with acutely trained hands, Doctor Johnson plucked the syringe from a metal tray nearby. \"I'm invoking the rights of EAE as I'm sure you've guessed.\" With that the Doctor injected the hypodermic needle easily into Jim's non-wounded arm. His face remained like steel as he pressed the syringe's plunger down with a gloved thumb. \"Diana is going to miss you,\" Doctor Johnson said, easily ignoring Jim's protests as though he were handling a petulant, fearful child. \"But you know,\" he said hoarsely as he injected the toxin into Jim's veins, \"Not as much as I've missed Diana.\"", "“Dr.” “Officer” Tomas could recall similar conversations had many times over from his colleagues. But today he was the doctor in the conversation. Most hospitals had acquired on site officers after the inversion. Officer Holmes was St. Augustus’s; he was a kindly older agent. Those who did on-site work tended to be, get away from the intense inner city routine jobs of Chicago. Holmes took out a sleek card machine before talking to the patient.\n\n“Do you accept that the actions of Dr. Tomas Müller saved your life today?” \n\n“Yes,” Catherine was 19, Tomas was the one who noticed the tumor after she complained of digestive problems and now she was coming back for the all clear. Only then would it be official. Tomas bit his nails, he never had done this before, and this was all very new…\n\n“Tomas. Card.” Holmes noticing his blank staring out of the window placed one hand on his shoulder and the other out outstretched with an empty palm. Tomas handed him a card, it had him with what he referred to, amongst friends, a ‘dorky’ photo from medical school - on the bottom row was a single buy holographic eye. Tomas handed it to Holmes, who put it in the machine. \n“You have two now? I could’ve sworn you were new here, thought this was your first?” Holmes remarked.\n\n“I do, I am, this is,” Tomas replied, Holmes looked thoroughly underwhelmed, “There was a lake, my friend when we were younger, it got credited.” This satisfied Holmes, he handed back the ‘dorky’ picture card with now two blue holographic eyes. Tomas always thought two was odd. They stared back at you. Expectantly. Holmes left the room and Tomas allowed himself to sigh, Catherine smiled, “Is that it, are we all done?” \n\nTomas started packing away. “Yes, you can leave now Catherine, it’s the end of my shift.”\n\n“Thanks again Doctor.” Catherine spoke before slipping out of the door.\nThe drive home was quiet; he didn’t turn on the radio. Tomas felt very lonely during the drive before turning up his apartment, with one, he reassured himself, it was a risk. You never know. But with two. With two, you could allow yourself this. Tomas unlocked his front door, “Hello Nana,” Nana was silent and still, the tubes running up to her from a unit whilst she lay on the bed, Tomas pulled out a syringe and filled it before flicking the cold steel once, it was secure. He looked out the window again, sighing. He hated Mondays; he slid the syringe into another tube, the liquid running straight towards his grandmother. Tomas pulled out his phone, “One dead, apartment 18,” Before hanging up.\n\nIt took them 12 minutes; they knocked twice, Tomas answered after the first.\n“Dr.?” “Officer” The hand outstretched for an expectant card. \n\nTomas obliged.\n", "When I was twelve, I remember we used to go to my grandpa's home in the country, where we could play in the fields and have fun, far from anything remotely resembling civilization, unless your concept of civilization included a kerosene lamp. We used to love playing in the little forest he had just a few feet from his house, imagining that the twigs we found were guns and swords.\n\nOne day, I was barefoot (as usual), running around, trying to take cover behind a tree while my cousin was \"shooting\" acorns at me. It was then that I squatted behind the tree, trying to find some branch to \"defend\" myself.\n\nLo and behold, my hand brushed right over a snake, a venomous one, as I gathered from the shape of its head.\n\nI immediately removed my hand, but the snake had set its sight onto me, and my jumping and trying to get away didn't help, as I was yelling hoping my cousin would do something. The snake stood quiet, but the fear was real enough for me.\n\nMy shouts alarmed my 17-year old cousin, who was in the kitchen playing with the machete, a coincidence I'll never be grateful enough to anyone up there for happening. As he ran into the forest, he caught full sight of the viper, and the animal started opening its mouth, but before it jumped onto my feet, my older cousin chopped its head off.\n\nI'll never be grateful enough for it.\n\nAnd then he should have filled the paperwork, presented the witnesses, as it's the law of one who saves a life to get the right to take one, but he never did.\n\nThat is an act of true love, I believe. To save someone's life without thinking of what you can gain from it.\n\nAnd I learned my lesson: I no longer go barefoot.", "One slight question, how exactly does this \"saving\" count? Say a guy is saved shot, he ran to safety, a good Samaritan picked him up and floored it to the hospital, a doctor and the nurses immediately carry out a surgery to save him. Now, who gets a free under credit? The doctor only? Or everyone that was involved?", "I could never have been a Doctor. All the education, the studying, the pressure and the regulation. Even then, the medical profession always fascinated me, from the old days when saving lives was 'just a job' to now, when Doctors are living gods. \n\nSo I had to be involved somehow. Janitor in a Hospital? No thanks. I needed something more dry. When I was first ready for college I finally realized my calling: mediator. Sometimes mediators have more power than Doctors! So I went through the usual 4-year program and came out the other side a bona fide mediator. This is the story of my first case.\n\nI was 23, after a year of desk work straight out of high school. I was finally going to work my first field case. I was called out to a local Hospital, can't remember the name. Any time a life-saving surgery was to be performed, a mediator gets called out. We can't just take Doctors' words for it that they saved a life, can we? Someone needs to bring a ledger and mark it down. Anyway, I got to the Hospital and high-tailed it to surgery, got quickly into the first open seat I could find, and flashed the Surgeon a quick thumbs-up. She began, her practiced motions surrounding her patient in a haze of confident expertise. It wasn't too long an operation. Other mediators end up sitting through 8-hour marathon sessions. Thankfully, this one took just 2 hours. Seeing a living patient exit the room, I noted such on my tablet computer. I went home, confident in my report, awaiting only a follow-up the next day.\n\nI went back in the morning for that follow-up. I was guided to the patient's waiting room after flashing my badge. After getting in the door to room 214-B I was greeted by the Doctor's solemn look. Something immediately felt 'off'. I got a briefing from the Doctor. The patient had slipped into a PVS. It was my call now. I had to decide whether the State had a reasonable expectation that the patient might recover from his vegetative state. I had a set of guidelines to follow, but the final call was mine. \n\nMy professional opinion goes like this: sitting there in a bed, wasting away, ain't any kind of life. It doesn't count. But damn, I know the Doctor tried her best. So I offered her the same under-the-table deal I would eventually offer every other Doctor I've had in the same situation. I count it, she offs the patient. \n\nI watched her pull the plug, a smile on both our faces for the very convenient deal we had just brokered. ", "Just imagine for a second that you were an engineer. Lets say you invented something akin to a seatbelt, an invention which saves more than 15,000 lives a year. You would truly be a God, with the power to do anything you pleased.", "\"What happened to this asshole?\" I inquired. The patient, a white male youth in his twenties, was riddled with at least half a dozen bullet holes in his torso, legs and right arm.\n\n\"Gang violence, presumably drug-related.\" Dr. Fletcher responded. \"Should we draw straws?\"\n\n\"Suppose so, but my count is getting pretty low.\" For some reason, I always drew the short straw.\n\n\"I've got the straws\" Said Erica. She turned to me \"OK Jeremy, you're up first\"\n\nI reached out to draw, but then hesitated. There were so many people I would rather use this on than some random coke dealer. I had to pick right this time. *Fuck it*, I thought, grabbing a straw. A short straw.\n\n\"Oh fuck me!\" I exclaimed. \"I never win, do I?\" My frustration was met with a chorus of laughter from my fellow doctors. Sighing, I picked up a scalpel and approached our friend. Before I so much as stopped walking, I had driven the scalpel into his jugular. I watched with mild exasperation as the ECG went blank. \n\n\"Remind me, why can't we just let them die instead of wasting killpoints?\" I asked no one in particular, despite knowing the answer.\n\n\"That's the law\" Erica chimed \"You can't let a hospital patient die by neglect. You have to put him out of his misery or save him.\"\n\n\"I know, I know. I'm just venting\" I responded, rolling my eyes. *Oh well* I thought *I still have 13 points. Time to pay that prick Jake Dufferin a visit, while I still have any.*", "Today, you find yourselves in the unique position that few would envy. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the precedent you set today will affect everyone you know. You are about to make history. I urge you to ensure you are on the correct side of it.\n\nOver the past few days, the State has tried to convince you that my client’s actions were accidental. That the alleged non-casualty of Mr. Bowers was *not* the result of my client’s actions on the night of December 24th. That my client’s swerving was merely due to falling asleep at the wheel. That my client’s DUI conviction is proof that he is the reason Mr. Bowers’ life was endangered in the first place.\n\nI do not dispute these facts. I am merely here to help you understand and uphold the law as it is written. And state statue 238.83, commonly known as the “Equilibrium of Life” law, states that saving a life entitles my client to a Plus-one status. \n\nTake a long, hard look at Mrs. Bowers over there. She has told you of the trauma that she and her husband endured after his non-casualty. But if my client’s car had continued into the crosswalk last Christmas Eve, Mrs. Bowers would be visiting a grave today rather than a courthouse. Dr. Hiercks unequivocally demonstrated this during his testimony.\n\nYet the car did not continue into the crosswalk. My client swerved. Mr. Bowers lived. And that is due to my client’s actions, plain and simple. The background is irrelevant. \n\nYou are not here to judge my client’s character. You are here to determine whether he saved a life. The law compels you to vote on the *outcome* of my client’s actions. Thus, you must do your duty and vote Plus-one. I am sure you will do the right thing.\n\n---\nFirst creative writing in about a decade! Thanks for the interesting prompt!", "Dr. George checked the papers twice as Anthony Renault sat patiently^1 in front of him. Today was running slowly, like a struggling faucet, no amount of concentration was paying off. He rubbed his eyes and made out what he could- *sore throat*; *can't sleep*. He'll figure something out- he could always just prescribe sugar pills again. *Most* of the time the human body will figure it out its problems on its own.\n\n\"How are you feeling, Mr. Renault?\" asked Dr. George.\n\n\"Not well. Feeling sick.\"\n\n\"Sore throat?\"\n\nMr. Renault nodded. Dr. George told him to open wide.\n\n\"Hmmm... Everything seems alright. I don't see any issue here.\"\n\n\"There's a few things. I can't sleep.\"\n\n\"Are you eating well?\"\n\n\"I think it's because of things that are bothering me... In life, I mean. I saved a life.\"\n\nDr. George was no stranger to saving lives. It was entitled in his job. Yes, from the *eye for and eye* law, he could use it to murder anyone he would wish. But Dr. George was not a violent man, simply a clumsy one. It seems like for every life he saves, another dies. It was the way of being a doctor, and sometimes slips can happen. \n\n\"Congratulations! It's always good to save someone's life.\"\n\n\"Yeah. I suppose it is. You're a doctor. You must save many lives.\"\n\nGeorge smirked. \n\n\"How many lives do you think you saved, doctor?\"\n\n\"I'd say hundreds. Thousands, maybe. I've been doing this for many years now.\"\n\n\"And how many would you say you lost?\"\n\nGeorge hesitated. \"Well, I try to focus on the positive.\"\n\n\"Do you remember the faces of you saved better than the ones you lost?\"\n\nGeorge fidgeted in his chair. \"I don't feel comfortable talking about this. Could we get back to the task on hand?\"\n\n\"Yes, of course. I was just questioning because, like I said, I saved a life. Just last week. It was little girl.\"\n\n\"That's very good.\"\n\n\"She was crossing the street, absentmindedly ahead of her parents. She was running, a truck was coming...\"\n\n\"You did a brave thing.\"\n\n\"Thing is, afterwards, after I saved her and after I got my I4I license, I wasn't proud of myself. I wasn't thinking about her. I didn't even feel like I saved her because she was just a little girl. Have you ever felt that way?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Have you ever felt like you saved someone not for their life, but for the I4I?\"\n\n\"I've never wished to have an I4I license, nor have I ever used one.\"\n\nMr. Renault scowled. \"Not intentionally, maybe. But they're handy to have. Have you ever saved a little girl?\"\n\n\"Yes, I'm sure I have. The past gets blurry.\"\n\n\"You would know if you have saved a little girl. Same if you had lost one. Have you ever lost a little girl before, Dr. George?\"\n\n\"Mr. Renault, this is highly unorthodox, and if we cannot discuss why you are here, then I'm going to have to ask you to leave.\"\n\n\"We are discussing why I am here!\" Anthony Renault stood and towered over the doctor.\n\n\"You're a lazy person. I am not a murderer. You are. An eye for an eye? You might have saved hundreds, but you've blinded thousands. You blinded her.\"\n\nDr. George jumped out of his chair, making for the door, but it wasn't quick enough. Mr. Renault left his papers on the stool. \n\n\n\n\npun^1\n", "'I'm so glad you came to us,' the silhouette said to Jones. 'Barely anyone uses general practitioners for this kind of thing. Not nowadays anyway.'\n\t\n'Well, I heard about what you were looking for and thought “fuck it”.' Jones leant back in his chair. 'I may be dying, but it ain't an emergency.' \n\nThe doctor's office hummed in darkness. Where ten years before it'd be off-white walls and harsh, crisp lighting, the décor had evolved with the profession. A lamp stood on the practitioner's desk. It had been angled towards Jones, leaving nothing but outlines of the doctor's shadow. The only visual trace left by the doctor was a thick tendril of cigar smoke, which danced over the lamplight.\n\n'Yes, well,' said the doctor after a pause. 'The problem is, people get caught up in the celebrity of the whole thing. Why get your insulin from the GP—why give them a termination license, when you can wait in line to give it to your favourite superstar?'\n\n'Like doctor Koch,' said Jones. \n\n'Yes, like Dr. Koch. He has more kill points—sorry, termination licenses—than he knows what to do with. Making a spectacle of the terminations like he does too, it means there's a steady stream of fans ready to plump up his license number.'\n\n'Yeah.'\n\n'You know there's people who refuse antibiotics, who let wounds decay and rot, just so they'll be rushed to a hospital on the off chance he'll treat them? They're that desperate to help his score. His work rota's plastered all over online. So people can co-ordinate their flirtations with mortality.'\n\n'Fucking crazy world,' said Jones. Wouldn't the practitioner just get to the point? Jones shifted in his seat slightly, moving against the sharp pain carving through his right side. 'So like, how do we certify it so you get a kill license—termination thingy—whatever. How in danger does my life have to be?' \n\n'How long since your last dialysis?' \n\n'Six days.' Jones grimaced.\n\n'Must be rather uncomfortable.' Another puff of smoke billowed over the lamplight.\n\n'You bet.' \n\n'Well, give it another forty eight hours. I'll make sure nurse who verifies licenses is around. You should be sick enough by then that we won't need theatrics.'\n\n'Sound,' said Jones. 'And I get 10k, yeah? Wired into my bank the same day?'\n\n'Of course.' \n\n'Before I go,' continued Jones, 'if you don't mind me asking. What are you gonna use the termination license for? Who you got it in for?'\n\nThe doctor sighed, his chest croaking. 'Oh, I'm not paying for this license for anything so puerile as revenge or wrath. No. This is purely a career move. An investment to get my foot up the ladder.' \n\n'How do you mean?'\n\n'That doesn't matter.' \n\nJones smiled, rising out of the dark wood chair. 'Thanks for your time.'\n\n'Thank you,' said the doctor. And, as Jones approached the office door: 'Jones? Whatever you do, don't get so ill you need to go to the hospital. I'm not losing another one to those bureaucratic pricks.' Jones nodded.\n\nTwo days later, Jones stumbled into the GP's office. He didn't know who to ask for—thanks to the secrecy of his meeting. Regardless, the nurse took him into one of the treatment offices, where he waited next to the dialysis machine. The doctor, obscured by a face mask, hooked him up. Drained all the poison out.\n\nAfterwards, they shook hands. Jones found a tidy ten grand sitting in his account within an hour.\n\t\nAnother two days later, and Jones found himself stopping in front of a newspaper headline. 'DR KOCH TERMINATED,' read the main text. The sub-heading: 'Killer Unknown Doctor with Termination License.' \n\nA while later, Jones saw his pseudo-saviour on the news. About to take up a new position—at Koch's own hospital. Jones smacked his head, both impressed and surprised. Now it had been executed, the GP's plan seemed so simple. \n\nSee—since the introduction of eye for an eye inversion laws, doctors had become creatures of clout; their hippocratic oath evolved into a strange new honour system. Not unlike, many commentators had been quick to point out, organised crime syndicates.\n\nNow, if you're a young aspiring doctor, you have two options.\n\nYou can wait, hanging on the whims of a vast administrative bureaucracy to get your foot in the door at a hospital—to get a chance to really rack up kill points.\n\nOr you could get crafty. Knock off a leading surgeon—hell, why not the leading surgeon? Instantly you're famous. In demand. People want to see what you'll do with more kill points. \n\nOf course a hospital will hire you then. \n\t\nJones found himself smiling as his mind whirred. The pain in his kidneys already had returned: another dialysis would be needed tomorrow. And he wondered just how hard it would be. To find another unknown GP in need of a little help. ", "Forevermore will that day be burned into my psyche. That bitch killed my brother, and I swore I would return the favor. We went out to dinner that night while he stayed home to study - to do his homework. When we came back he wasn't there. Just a carcass dangling from a fan wearing his clothes, bearing a note declaring \"She made me do this.\". My name is Teresa, and I shall have have justice. \n\nThe year has been hard on him, yet we could not comprehend how magnificently so. Every day he would come home with another story, whether it be of him being physically harassed by his peers and the teachers not believing him when he went for help, or being given a poor grade and subsequently publicly humiliated in front of the entire class - at the time I thought they were just stories, but clearly I was wrong. The worst of the faculty however, was one particular teacher. That bitch went against against everything that education stood for. She was openly sexist, hating those so unlucky as to grace her presence with their Y chromosome. She believed that public humiliation was the road to discipline. I wanted to make sure it caught up to her.\n\nSo I studied - I studied, and I studied, and I studied. I made my way through medical school, with the only goal of becoming a surgeon so that I would have the ability to enact justice.\n\nMy first operation, however, did not go as planned.\n\n\"Terry, we're bringing the patient up to the OR.\"\n\n\"Very good.\"\n\nThe creature which rolled in was none other than my brother's killer.\n\n\"No.\" I whispered.\n\n\"Excuse me?\" Inquired the nurse\n\n\"I . . . I can't perform the operation.\"\n\n\"What? First time nerves?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\nThe monster before me sat up. Apparently she had not gone under anesthesia yet.\n\n\"Oh Lord - I feel I recognize you from somewhere. Wait - oh God, you're Theresa! That poor boy's sister!\"\n\nI stood there, trying to maintain composure at the sight of her. It was not long before she continued,\n\n\"You know, I think about him every day. He always told me that you would brush them off whenever he tried to talk to you. At one point I believe he told me to that he began to make up stories just to get your attention, but that you regarded them as \"just stories\". \n\n\"What? No, that can't be true!\"\n\n\"Oh, but it is. I remember one time when he kicked over a trashcan in anger, he remarked \"she made me do this.\" I asked him who he meant by \"she\" and he said that he simply wanted to know his sister better,though she would not abide him.\"\n\nJust then, the nurse interjected.\n\n\"Really Terry, we should get the operation underway.\"\n\n\"Of . . . Of course.\"\n\nSo, much as I hate myself for it, I saved the monsters life.\n\nThe next evening I took my return for saving a life. That evening, I wasn't there. There was just a carcass dangling from a fan wearing my clothes.\n\nEpilogue:\n\nOne week later the teacher was drinking tea in her office, thinking to herself, and received news that Teresa had hanged herself.\n\nIn that moment she thought to herself, \"Women are so easily manipulated.\"", "Dr Ingersmith sighs through his surgical mask. One more quick use of the cautery and it will mark the end of the most complicated surgery he has performed in his fledgling career, and coincidentally earn him his first \"life refund\". \"Alright Estrada,\" Ingersmith says as he turns to his assistant, \"hand me the cautery and we can-\" \nIngersmith froze. There stood Estrada, his assistant, holding a pair of surgical scissors with the patient's Right Coronary Artery precariously placed between the shining blades.\n\"What the hell are you thinking?!\" Demands Ingersmith, but he already knows what. Estrada had gotten his first credit only a few weeks ago after his outstanding performance in a triple bypass surgery. The only response Ingersmith gets is a slight shrug. \n\"You know what this surgery means to my career!\"\nShrug.\n\"Why this one? Can't it be something less important?!\"\nShrug.\n\"Here, I'll buy you lunch for the week!\"\n Shrug.\n\"Two weeks?\"\nShrug.\n\"Three weeks. Final offer.\"\nEstrada stops for a moment and considers, but shrugs and squeezes the blades.\n*Snip*\nBeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.....\nIngersmith sighs.\n\"Estrada, you can be a real dick sometimes.\"\nShrug.\n", "I got my credit today. I needed it. The courts judged that in my youth, I had in fact prevented the suicide of a colleague. I was now entitled to one kill and that's all I would need to take down Dr. Khan. The world's most respected Neurosurgeon. Legend has it he has over 250 credits now and he's probably spent near 250 before that. My revenge isn't so petty to kill a common criminal doctor. No. Dr. Khan once killed a colleague to take his wife. Besides being morally reprehensible in his own right, the colleague had been my brother. For the past 4 years I've been appealing for my credit and training to kill who is perhaps the man the world needs most. I purchased my ticket and instructed my contact to stock the warehouse with the provisions I would need to march into and secure the hospital. I arrived with no time for rest. Khan would be leaving to an undisclosed location for time off some time in the next few days. I arrived at the warehouse... Empty. I heard the slide of a gun cock from the corner. \"Don't move\" he said. It was my contact a man by the name of Joe. \"What is this.\" I asked attempting to maintain my composure. \"You can't kill the doctor; he has done so much good work. He has saved my life.\" He responded panicked. It was clear he had never held a gun to somebody before. He was dressed in rags with unkempt hair. This was probably the result of high medical bills instituted by Khan. \"You don't look like a guy who's saved a life.\" I reasoned. \"I'm just grateful.\" He snickered. A shot rang out; but not from his weapon. Joe went down as Khan and his entourage coolly strode into the warehouse. Joe gurgled. The shot had entered his neck. \"Put that one on my kill card\" Khan ordered a man with what looked like a checkbook. His demeanor was emotionless. He was a man who's talents in the operating room had long ago subjugated his moral obligation to the people and his will to live without satisfying his dark passenger. \"You've done a lot of complaining about me on the forums. I knew you'd be here in my little town soon enough, Detective Kelly. Khan said somewhat animatronically. \"I can't believe a lawman would reject his own law.\" He added before I could reply. \"I can't believe a doctor would reject his Hippocratic oath.\" I chimed in. He raised his pistol to my forehead with the supporting townspeople in his midst. The room was quiet. As if my death was a necessary evil to keep the system running. \"Fight me like a man.\" I muttered. He walked to the other side of the room, unloaded his pistol and gave the two components to a man on either side. \"You could have had this easy.\" He laughed. I stood and took the first swing. He dodged and countered with a cross directly to the center of my face. I could feel my nose, warm with dripping blood. In a mild shock I was hit again and again. Khan removed his labcoat. He was much more toned than anticipated. I was intimidated. \"This was for my brother!\" I shouted to the room. They shook their heads in disagreement. \"This man saves lives!\" They shouted back. Khan swelled with pride. He raised his hands to his cheering supporters. \"This man is a killer. He is a dictator. You are underneath his foot.\" I tried to garner the support of the crowd. \"That's by the grace of the law.\" one said. \"My mother his alive because of this man.\" announced another. \"Shame on you!\" The crowd roared. Khan was distracted at his immediate publicity. I knew I would not make it out of this room. I discretely removed a small rusted spike from the warehouse floor that had been part of a larger structure once. I swept Khan's leg and drove the spike into his chest. He screamed in agony. I screamed in agony. My hand had been torn open by the impromptu weapon. The crowd closed in on Khan's dying breaths. They stared me down, emotional. I came to a realization then. I pulled my badge and my kill credit system to spend it. Killing an officer of the law required 3 credits. I was the most hated man in the room; but they abided by the law here. None of these people could afford that. I submitted the kill and walked out of the warehouse bleeding, in search of a real doctor.", "He was an optometrist. A medical practitioner who doesn't really save lives. He works for a big retail chain where all he does it sells glasses. Day in day out. \n\nThe medical profession remains in tact. Hippocratic Oath forbids the harming of others. Doctors uphold this code and any doctor who murders will be killed by another member of his registrar. \n\nSo back to my optometrist fellow. He spends all day, saying \"1 or 2\" and \"is this better or is that better\". He grows sick and comes home to nothing. No wife no kids, a house bare and sparse with nothing but a bed, a chair and table and a laptop. He stares at the attic. He glances at an old dusty photo of him and a girl at a burger joint, the date where he took her after they did their white coat initiation. Within lies the equipment he paid for during his college life. The diagnostic kit. A weapon.\n\nThe sickly green fluorescent shone down on his skin as he eats his dinner of Froot Loops and crisps. He goes between them... 1 and 2.... the milk and sweetness of the cereal offset the flavours. He finished his meal and turns off his laptop.\n\nHe goes down to his garage of the flat he lives in. A pitch black Jaguar F-type with a juiced up supercharger. A costly reminder of who he once was and how he grew up to be everything he hated. \n\nThe grumblings of the engine started in the dark of night, and soon the pitch black car was lined with the reflections of the neon lights of the dilapidated city. Along street corners were thugs in white coats and fake degrees. \n\nGovernments began paying everyone with an MD 7, even 8 digits if they were working in hospitals. This was to curb the violence that was present at the start. Doing this helped ease the gang tensions and the various law suits. \n\nDrugs nowadays dealt on the street are ones which have therapeutic value. Gone are the days of marijuana, cocaine and heroin. Now it's antibiotics (which is massive - society had nearly collapsed in the wake of the nearly completely immune variant of Staph Gold) and the newest antibiotic cannot be produce enough. There was a war and it all started from the misuse of antibiotics from the early doctors who wanted credits (or kill points, as they're named on the streets).\n\nThe housing structure of society has totally collapsed. People live in shelters that are sterilized and shut away from the outside world. You can't go outside world without antibiotics. The upside to this is that the antibiotic that was recently discovered has the ability to generate new compounds that are antibiotic in themselves. One pill can make a person highly immune but the side effects were terrifying - they had DNA active effect and affectd Gene expression. These created monsters.... mutants out of people. Be it on the outside or inside.\n\nThe pitch black paint on the jaguar was not immaculate. There were claw marks and bullet holes (speed holes) in the bonnet. The mutants couldn't take away his love to drive. No one could. Despite the craggy exterior - all measures were taken to make the cabin of the car a a level 10 biohazard exclusion zone. \n\nHe returned home and stared at the attic lid again. It beckons him. he went up and got his old Keeler Binocular Indirect Ophthalmoscope. It allowed him to look into the eyes of people.\n\nThis technology has long been outdated and replaced with digital cameras. Any life saving discoveries however were considered to be found by the computer and thus no kill points were credited. \n\nThe BIO was consider \"makruh\" in the medical community. Due to the persuasion of Opthalmologists who wanted lobbied against them to ensure the kill point were racked for them. Optometrists suffered at the hands of Opthalmologists for far too long. \n\nThe next morning he sat in his clinic. Business was slow. Contact lenses were now self moulding to prescriptions and glasses were only prescribed to those who had compromised immune systems. \n\nAn old woman, at teh age of 70 came in complaining about flashes in her vision. \"This is your chance\" he thought. He clinically lined up the ray of light from his head set into the pupil. he lined up his 20 Diopter lens and slowly and gracefully pulled up until a picture of her retina was in focus.\n\nHe went methodically, clockwise and outwards. Then he saw it - a melanoma, a cancerous growth that meant enucleation. He trembled in fear-wrapped excitement. But no sign of any reward. He grew disappointed and noted the appearance and location of the spot anyway. \n\n2 o'clock. 1 DDiameter, 3 ONH into the periphery.\n\nHis sheet started shining. and suddenly through his roof blasted a hole and down came a certificate \n\nYOU HAVE SAVED THE LIFE OF...\n\nHe squints in disbelief, at the name and then he looks up to see the woman sobbing.\n\nHe takes another look at his record sheet. It was her, the girl who broke his heart in second year, the one who he felt responsible for sending him into the tailspin that he is in today. He became dizzy, his world spinning. He knew that he wasn't her fault yet his anger and his ambition caused his hand to tremble. He dropped his hand held lens and a single tear dropped from his face. \n\n\"I know you have to take my eye, but please don't take the other one - I promise I won't take yours\".\n\n\n\n", "My first response.\n\nThe law had international repercussions when it was first passed at the end of 2015. The ‘Eye for an Eye Inversion’ law, as it was called. Essentially, for every life saved, the saver is granted the right to take one life away. An interesting law, made, once again, by politicians who didn’t really understand what they were unleashing upon the world. The idea was simple, legalize certain homicides, which would increase vigilante activity, which in turn would decrease crime. The crazy thing was, it worked. Many doctors became part-time assassins, killing almost as much as they saved. After a few years, the death rates actually decreased, as those killing illegally had mostly died off and those killing legally were breaking even with lives saved. That is, until the disease.\n\nThey called it the Red Death; in part, as a homage to the Black Death; and in part, as a reference to the boils of blood that represented one of its many symptoms. Millions died. Just when all hope was lost, a vaccine was invented. Projections showed that without it, hundreds of millions would have died. I’m not a doctor, but that doesn’t matter. \n\nYou see, I invented this vaccine. In a world where homicide is legal, only I have the legal right to commit genocide. Entire countries tremble when they hear my name, and I have some pretty big grudges to settle. \n", "Having spent the night saving a handful of lives during their shift out in the city that night, Charlie and Steve set out to balance things out with the day's excisements.\n\n\"What do we have on the docket for today Charlie?\"\n\n\"A kid toucher, a couple of petty criminals, and a career politician - a Senator.\"\n\n\"Let's go with the politician first, worst of the worst.\"\n\n\"OK\"\n\nThey drove out to the Senator's estate. When asked to be buzzed into the palatial estate, the doorman attempted at first to refuse them. But when they held up their Winnowers' tablets, with today's verified lives saved, the doorman paled, and was forced to allow them inside, lest he be one of the day's legally sanctioned excisements.\n\n\"Where is he?\" Charlie asked.\n\n\"Who?\" said the doorman.\n\n\"You know who...Reginald Burns, the Senator.\" said Steve\n\nThe doorman quailed, but said \"Upstairs, down the right hallway, last door on the left.\"\n\n\"Thanks\"\n\nThe two walked up the stairs, checking that their bullet proof vests were secure, readying their syringes, and as backup should the Senator fight back, their modest sidearms. The vests weren't supposed to be necessary, given their legal rights. But some people just didn't respect the law, thought Charlie, the irony not lost on him.\n\nThey approached the indicated door, and went in without knocking, holding their Winnowers' tablets out in one hand, Charlie with the syringe in his right, Steve with his handgun in his right.\n\nThe senator's red face soon nearly matched his white hair in color as he realized what was going on.\n\n\"Wait, boys! I can make this worth your while. I can set you up real good now. You don't have to do this... You could retire... Let me help you out.\" The senator pasted on a practiced smile, \"It'll be win-win! Tit for tat! You won't have to do this anymore, you can retire.\" the senator threw out all manor of oily protests as Charlie and Steve walked across the room to towards the Senator. As they got closer he started to panic, and went for the revolver he kept in his desk, but Steve saw the quick movement and with an exasperated sigh, opened fire.\n\nThe pair walked back out of the room, down the hall, and as they passed the doorman. As they neared him, Steve handed him printouts from their Winnowers' tablets detailing the excisement, their credentials, and details of their balancing lives saved to him. Charlie said added, \"It's done. You go ahead and call 911, but tell them we were here, they'll know there's no point in rushing.\"", "Dr. Rogers smirked, thinking of the more than 350 legal murder stickers he possessed. There were many perks to being a doctor, free drugs, good money, respectable level on the social hierarchy, but of them all was the eye for an eye inversion. \"Well sir... See the thing is, I only have 10 left. You want 7. That would almost wipe me out of business. $2,000 per sticker is no longer applicable.\" He paused, watching the body language and feet positioning of the man in front of him. He had the cat in the bag. He didn't care who or why this man wanted to kill 7 people, all he cared about was the money. \"I'd be willing to sell you 7 for a total of $25,000. I'm afraid that's the best I can offer.\"\n\n$25,000? that was a little less than a year's salary. Was it really true that there was a sticker shortage? He was after all only getting paid $40,000 to kill the people for Mrs. Strajas. $15,000 was not enough profit for it to be worth it. There was no reason he needed to do this legally, though she had said she did not want it traced back to her; there would be more of a guarantee if it was done legally. He only really needed 5 but if there was one thing he knew about bargaining it was never let them know how many you actually need. Or perhaps he could just take 3, Joe owed him a favor and could help him dispose of the other two. \"How much would 3 be?\"\n\n\"I'll tell you what\" said the Doctor, realizing that he had underestimated the weakness of the man in front of him \"I'll sell you five for $15,000.\"\n\nThe man nodded, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a checkbook. \"To whom should I make this out to?\"\n\nThe doctor handed him his business card, and went to the back room, placing 5 stickers in a bag. He walked out, took the check, and handed the stickers before shooting the man in front of him. $15,000 for one sticker wasn't his best work, but it would definitely make his next vacation more enjoyable. ", "\" That was amazing doctor!\" The young nurse gushed excitedly as the tall slender man walked out of the OR. He smiled warmly at the nurse as he pulled down his surgical mask and peeled off the gloves. The front of his surgical gear was splattered in blood, but he didn't seem phased by it at all.\n\n\" Wendy, you are so sweet. Did you watch the whole thing?\" He peeled off the rest of his surgical gear revealing his tall lean frame. He had a handsome face with high cheekbones, something almost out of centerfold for an upscale magazine. Even with his hairline receding and his dark hair starting to go grey, it just made him appear more powerful and wise.\n\nThe young nurse nodded enthusiastically as a small crowd of other nurses and doctors started to gather, \" Yes! I timed it! It's the fastest heart transplant ever! You've broken your own record by 10 seconds!\" She practically squealed as she looked at the gentleman with affection. The crowd around them started to clap and whistle as many tried to touch him, the man many called \" The Gatekeeper.\"\n\nThe man appeared to redden slightly with embarrassment, even though this appeared to be regular scene, he appeared uncomfortable with the praise.\n\nDoctor Matt Burnish, had always wanted to be a doctor. His mother's life was saved when he was seven when the surgeon performed an emergency brain surgery to correct an aneurysm. The man had assured them everything would be okay and it was, and he couldn't imagine anything better than saving lives. \n\nHe'd studied hard, pushing relationships and hobbies aside to focus on the one thing he wanted more than anything else and he advanced quickly. At the age of 20 he graduated from Harvard Medical at the top of his class. He joined the best trauma center in the country for his internship and residency and he couldn't begin to start.\n\nAfter three years he could barely stand it. He couldn't stand it, he couldn't stand watching good people day in and day out. People that worked hard and tried to make the best lives they can and they just couldn't get the treatment they needed. And he had to continually spend time on drug addicts and convicts. Or even worse, the corrupt upper class that fed on the weak and powerless. Just when he was about to quit medicine he met the new Chief of Medicine of his hospital. Dr. Beck, he told him about how he hated the system and that if Matt would stay he could choose his patients. The day he agreed was the day the day the Eye for an Eye law was passed.\n\nAs he shuffled through the crowd a little awkwardly he ran into Dr. Beck who smiled widely like a proud grandfather. \" Well done M'boy! That girl will be back in High School before the year is out. You'd think after becoming the most renowned surgeon in the world, you'd get used to a little attention.\" He teased his protege lightly, as though this was a familiar jab.\n\nMatt rolled his eyes and tried to move past him, \" Well if your done riding me, I just got done with a long surgery and I'm tired.\" He faked a loud yawn and started to move towards the on call room.\n\n\" Oh really. Then I guess I'll just find another doctor who wants to treat this 7 year old in full renal failure.\" And before he'd even finished Matt had taken the chart out of the older doctor's hand and was quickly skimming it.\n\n\" No family matches?\" Was his first question which was met with a quick shake of his head, \" None in storage?\" Which was met with another shake. Matt sighed for a second before he looked the older gentleman in the eyes and nodded, \" Find me one.\" And then he was gone.\n\nTwo hours later he was striding into the room of one Jonathan Hedley, President of the Hedley corporation, he developed a rash in a sensitive area and wanted it taken care of discreetly.\n\n\" Hello Mr. Hedly, I'm Dr. Burnish and I'll be your medical provider for the remainder of your stay.\"\n\n\" About damn time. I've donated a ton of money to this hospital and I expect to get fast treatment!\" The man blustered.\n\n\" Well we are busy saving lives.\" The doctor replied sarcastically as he rolled his eyes and consulted his chart. \" And while we appreciate the money from the Hedley Corporation, don't think that makes up for your other misdeeds.\" \n\nThe man sputtered, \" What misdeeds?! Who do you believe you are talking to!\"\n\n\" Well for starters you laid off over 20% of your workforce last quarter and outsourced them, all while giving yourself a 2 million dollar bonus. You've been known to deny valid benefits to your workers.\" As he spoke the door open and two more doctors moved into the room followed by Dr. Beck. \" And numerous other things that I just don't have time nor want to explain to you.\"\n\nHedley was roughly forced onto the bed and held down as Matt picked up syringe full of bright clear liquid. \" I'm afraid we are going to need your kidneys Mr. Hedley.... and whatever else we can use. You may go through the gates of hell.\"", "John sat apprehensively in his car, waiting outside of his old home. He waited, with a morbid patience, for the man that had stolen everything from him. Fury and pain began to rage as he thought of his lost wife, children, and house. How could she have married him? Did my children not even miss me? It didn’t matter. As soon as John heard of the recent law -- allowing a man to take a life, for every life he saved -- he knew what he had to do. He checked that the tarps were covering the back seat. No need to stain his car.\n\nThe door to his old house opened. The man kissed his wife -- John’s wife! -- goodbye. He walked to his car, fumbly with the keys. John exited his own car and approached the man, the man who had taken everything. John pulled out his pistol and aiming for the inside of the man’s left thigh, fired. The shot hit true, and the man collapsed.\n\nJohn worked quickly. He tied a tourniquet and tightened. He then emptied a package of powdered coagulant over the wound. Finally, he bandage the bleeding hole. There wasn’t as much blood as John anticipated -- he must have missed the artery. That’s probably a good thing, or this man wouldn’t have made the trip to the hospital. \n\nJohn dragged the man into the back seat of his car and sped to the hospital. He arrived, and called for help. Attendants came with a gurney. A doctor met them as they rushed inside. He quickly examined John’s work, and said, “It looks like your first aid saved his life.” That’s all John wanted to hear.\n\n“Wait!” John yelled. He took out his pistol and shot the man in the head.\n", "I am Lysle Berger MD.\n\nI have saved hundreds of lives.\n\nI have taken hundreds of lives.\n\nWhen the law was first introduced I never thought I would want to take a life. I was wrong.\n\nIt's exhilarating. It's like hunger. Like an itch I must scratch. An addiction.\n\nIt started innocently enough. Miles Fessler was elderly, he probably would have passed anyway. Probably. I won't bore you with the details. The recommended dose of paracetemol for someone in severe pain is 4000mg. At about 15,000mg acute liver failure is likely in most people. I gave him 20,000mg. \n\nPeople often describe death as pretty. It's not. Within ten minutes he began to writhe in pain. Soon he was convulsing, sending the bed into a metallic death rattle. Thirty minutes in he began to froth at the mouth. The elderly gentleman was with his physician, so of course nobody bothered to check. An hour after his dose his eyes rolled back into his head, followed by the unpleasant smell of urine and feces.\n\nThe coroner noticed the overdose in the blood work but at the time I was about 17 lives in the clear. Some of the nurses began to avoid me but I was still the best physician in the hospital, so the administrator turned a blind eye and I was covered legally.\n\nAt first I justified it by only killing the elderly but as time wore on I couldn't help myself. Leila Janus was only 23 when I killed her. Absolutely beautiful too. New multi-million modelling contract. The only thing holding her back was diabetes. I was... less subtle with her. I took a scalpel to her throat and watched as she gargled on blood, her pillow slowly turning from white to red. I felt like a God. The rich, the famous, the powerful were all at my mercy. Following Leila's murder, I was only 3 in the clear.\n\nEventually, I tired of murdering patients. It was too easy. Not enough struggle. Not enough sport. Officially I've killed the same number of people as I have saved. They have no idea how many more deaths I am responsible. Prostitutes, the destitute, gang members and drug addicts make excellent victims.\n\nI don't know how long I can evade them. I am smarter than the police, of course. But it's only a matter of time before I am caught through some unforeseen circumstances.\n\nIt was all worth it. I have found my true calling.\n\n", "It was landmark legislation. \"Net Murder\" was the new term they coined. Nobody knew yet what was going to happen. Even worse, they were going back five years to add up all the lives an individual saved and the deaths attributed to them. \n\nThe idea was to promote net positive contribution, so that those individuals who helped more than they hurt get to remain participants in society being forgiven for a few errors or transgressions while those that have harmed society are removed.\n\nIt wasn't supposed to be possible, but recently, the Supreme Court ruled that \"ex post facto law\" to be acceptable in cases of criminal justice, due to the rising corruption of the populace and the cleverness of people inventing new ways to get away with it.\n\nPearlman had just passed his residency and his few surgeries had not gone so well. \n\n\"Shit shit shit!\" he said aloud. Pearlman wanted to save lives. A lot of them. He worked hard to be the best surgeon he could be. So far he was only able to save one person. The only real problem was, that two died on his watch. \n\nOne was elderly, and couldn't be helped. The second was entirely not his fault. Karen had administered rocuronium that was meant for a different patient, instead of the fosphenytoin that was prepared. The young father went into sudden cardiac arrest and was no more. But Pearlman knew Karen was beating herself over it, and covered for her. \n\nKaren had only the one patient. The one that died, but she would be safe. She quit the medical profession immediately afterwards. He was going to be sent to prison for life unless he confessed to the perjury. Then, he could never save any lives again, and would be barred from practicing.\n\nAt this point almost all the medical professionals with a negative net death were in prison. Luckily, he worked in a rural hospital with no electronic health records at the time. The Department of Health and Human services knew this though, and were combing through the paper records at the very moment.\n\nPearlman wasn't going to go out this way, he had to reach zero... fast. No, he had to more than that, he needed a buffer, so he wasn't ever going to be persecuted unfairly. \n\nHe placed the unlabeled bag on the IV pole.\n\nEDIT: Hey guys, I'm so sorry this is my second writing prompt post and there are so many plot holes! My intention was that since saving lives has never been counted in the legal system, I made the provision also now factor \"losses.\"\n\nEDIT2: Turns out ER doctors don't so surgery, soo.....", "I won't pretend I'm some sort of legal professional kid, I don't know shit about the history of the law or whatever, but I know the ins and outs of it like the back of my hand. Hell why am I telling you this, you've gotta know it too, right?\n\n\nYou're kidding me, you don't know? Why did I b- Oh forget it. Okay, there's a scale of designated 'importance', the higher up you are on it, the more people have to be saved for you to be taken out. You save two Class Ones? Congrats, you can kill a Class Two. Get it? Goes all the way to the top, only people immune are foreign leaders and the President himself. Yes, I know the door is locked. Yes I know this is breaking and entering. No! Seriously kid, just pass me the bolt cutters!\n\n\nYou know about me, seeing as you asked to come along on a job. Oh? Do tell. Oh. Huh the Net isn't as accurate as I thought. No, I've got fifty two points of kills, not thirty two, and as far as what I've got left? Well, I've only got twenty nine points left, but I'm not using them all.\n\n\nYup, you got it kiddo. This is it. The last job. Glad someone could be here for it anyways. Yeah just pass up the duffel once I'm up the ladder, I'm taking the other bag with me.\n\n\nOkay, I don't know how much experience you've had on a range boy, but even if you've had days of practice, shooting from a skyscraper is something different. The windspeed, the angles, the thickness of the glass, th- what? Does it matter who it is really? ...They've mostly been contract kills, not 'crimes of pa-' What do you mean, \"This one has to be different?\" Kid. No ki- Okay.\n\n\nYes. Its different. You know Dr. McAlistair? God damn kid I asked if you know him, not to sing his praises! Fucking Christ... You were right about the rivals part though. We were dueling for years, each trying to get more kills to our name than the other. We got rich, we got famous, we started families as we saved lives and snuffed out others, trying to outdo each other. You watch much news? Yeah. About six years ago, there was a murder on Holmes Street Downtown. A young woman killed in her apartment execution-style, brain sprayed all over the walls. No, I know its not unusual, especially not nowadays, but he murdered my fiance so I fail to give a fuck.\n\n\nIt was him. Yes I know for sure, I got his application for the kill from the Bureau of Inversions. Shut up and look down the thermal binoculars please, tell me what you see.\n\n\nYeah. Fuck off, I know he's got kids, Melissa was pregnant when he emptied her fucking skull! Kid I've got more than enough points here for you too if you don't shut the fuck up. I'm- Fuck you I'm not crying. Shut the fuck up and give me a fucking range.\n\n\n2500 feet. 13 miles per hour. Okay. You wanted to see someone taken out? Turn off the thermal and watch.\n\n\nOne.\n \n \nTwo.\n \nThree.\n \nFour.\n \nThats right you fucking pig, cry over your kids, your fucking whore wife. Fuck you!\n\n\nFive! That's for Melissa you asshole!\n\n\nUgh. I've been waiting to get that off my chest. God damn I hated that guy. Fuck.\n\n\nNow? Probably retire. Probably. There's nothing I really want to do now, I mean, I could go into politics and try and play President, but going into Congress makes me a target for every fundamentalist and his mother. No, I'm just going to disappear for now. Maybe move to Cuba, who knows, they don't have Inversion laws there.\n\n\nYeah, good night kid. Sorry it wasn't much of a lesson. Maybe don't tell people about what happened tonight? Thanks. Huh? Nah, you don't /need/ to submit an application, it's just strongly recommended, skips a lot of police bureuocracy.\n\n\nOh, and here's a tip. You really want points? Go help people on suicide hotlines. They're the real killers.", "Business was booming.\n\nIn his office at St Thomas' Hospital, overlooking the Thames, Dr Jones leaned back in his chair and smiled. In his younger days, people went into the medical profession for a variety of reasons, altruistic and selfish. Now, with the Net Murder Neutrality law, one more reason was added to that list. \n\nJones was relatively lucky when the law passed. Having worked in trauma, he had his fair share of lives saved, resulting in a high +/-. The medical profession had evolved too, with the Termination programme the 2nd most popular course in med schools. \n\nHe got up, glanced at his watch and yawned. Making his way down to level 2, he nodded to several of his colleagues, while a bunch of year 3 med students scurried past. \n\n\n'Dr Jones? 5 appointments today, and they are all waiting for you in room 221'\n\n'Thank you Natalie. Everything is set up? Any extenuating circumstances I should be aware of?' \n\n'Not that I'm aware of, sir'\n\n'Right. Let me know my plus-minus afterwards'\n\n\nJones strode into the room, and smiled. Five terrified pairs of eyes stared at him. 'Morning everyone! Don't be frightened, trust me, I'm a doctor!' \nAnd pulled the first trigger.\nFour terrified pairs of eyes stared at him. \nThen three. \nTwo. \nOne. \nZero.\n\nJones wiped his hands on the towel provided. 'Who did we have today?' \n'The CIA sent in the first two, the mafia sent the 3rd. No 4 was the son of a billionaire, we think it was the other heir who sent him here, and no 5 was a terrorist. Your plus-minus is now at +53, but there was a bad accident over in Piccadilly so you should be able to bump it up by the end of today'. Jones nodded and smiled.\n\nBusiness was booming. \n\n\n---------------------\nhaven't written anything in years. please be nice :)", "He'd already refused at least a hundred other offers and gifts that day. \n\nAs Dr. Henry Hobbel sat and finished his dinner at the restaurant, he rejected one more: the bottle of white wine his eager and nervous looking waiter had thrust towards him from across the table. This was the second bottle of wine the restaurant had offered him (he'd accepted the first). Paying for his meal just wasn't enough, it seemed. Back when all this began, he'd tried to pay, at first. He'd insist on paying for his meals, groceries, flights, coffee... Then he gave up, and just enjoyed the spoils, at least for a while. It was fun, and a glimpse of a lifestyle he'd never seen. \n\nBut it grew old very, very quickly. \n\nNow, after six years, he'd taken to either silently accepting the gifts or firmly refusing them, depending on his mood. Long dead was the excitement of being the most famous man in the world. He'd expected the gifts to stop after a while, but he'd underestimated the media. They did everything in their power to keep the shining image of Dr. Hobbel inflated. Frankly, they had to be running out of headlines by now: 'National Hero.' 'Giver of Life' 'Savior of the Human Race.' 'The Man Who Beat Death.' (Hobbel kind of liked that one, in a Harry Potter sort of way.)\n\nThe problem, of course, was that by saving so many millions of lives he was now legally allowed--and, in most countries, *expected*--to take an equal amount. That was ridiculous, of course. Why on earth would the man who cured cancer want to kill millions of people? He who had given the gift of life to so many would take it from a few? Absurd. The last thing on Hobbel's mind was hurting someone else. But a dangerous thing happens when people know you have nothing holding you back: they assume the worst, and react accordingly. And so, whether out of gratitude or fear, everybody felt like they owed him. Friends and relationships were hard enough to come by before his breakthrough, so engrossed was he in his research. Now it was impossible to isolate genuine relationships: he lived alone in a small apartment on the East Side. It wasn't all bad, though. His dinners were usually quite nice. \n\nAs he walked back through the brisk evening, the half empty bottle of wine in his hand (the waiter insisted he take the rest), he passed the usual mix of homeless and middle class. Most of the wealthy wouldn't be found walking around this area, and certainly not this time of night. Although he didn't really consider himself wealthy (he'd donated the money from his Nobel Prize to some charity), he liked it here, among the people who either didn't know who he was or just didn't care. He passed whores on the street who shouted at him their offers of discounted services. Christ, that might have been his biggest surprise of the whole thing: the sex. Once his name and face became plastered on every newspaper, website, and TV in the world, the fan mail came pouring in, quickly followed by the propositions. It was all very flattering, and quite fun for a whirlwind short while, but he tried not to let it go to his head. After all, even Manson found somebody crazy enough to marry him.\n\nAs he closed the door to his apartment, he absentmindedly turned on the TV, gathered some things from his counter, and sat. His answering machine blinked with the urgency of a new message, but Hobbel already knew what news it brought: impatient to hear back, he'd run the tests himself. It was, he thought, an appropriate end: the man who defeated cancer, brought down by its insidious cousin. *How Shakespearian,* he thought, as he swallowed a handful of pills, washing them down with the last of the wine.\n\nThe TV cast a warm glow across the room in stark contrast to the whining, pitched voices that echoed from its speakers as the talking heads bantered back and forth about the Eye For An Eye law, the constant fodder for late night pundits and religious zealots alike.\n\n\"Life is precious, a gift that should be cherished, not bartered with depending on one's accomplishments.\"\n\n\"Paul, you say that life is a gift? Isn't life a creation of the actions of a man and a woman? If we can create life, then why shouldn't be able to give it away?\" \n\n\"Life is given by God!\"\n\nAnd so forth.\n\nThese voices were but echoes to Hobbel, though. He'd already refused at least a hundred other offers and gifts that day. As Dr. Hobbel sat and drifted off to sleep, he rejected one more." ]

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[ "Gary smacked his swollen hand to his neck. He cursed. The mosquitoes have been at the little group for days now. He didn't understand. He didn't understand anything about it. \n\nJust yesterday they had been sitting in the apartment, their little zone of comfort. A space to blow of some steam, an place to relax. Overnight, everything changed. The government had contacted them for an operation. Nothing unusual, as they have made quite a name for themselves during the Bush war in '64. But this time, it was different.\n\nThe call came early in the morning. The rooster would've crowed, if there was one in suburban Tennessee. Geez, Gary thought, he sure could use a bloody cock now. \n\nHe was tramping his way through the thick under-brush, his black boots no longer in their original pristine shiny condition, he felt defeated already. He had no clear enemy to fight. At least, not yet. They would find out soon. \n\nLines of trees, uncountable vines and strange exotic plants as far the eye could see, made up their surroundings. Gary didn't like the jungle. It wasn't natural. It wasn't real. \n\nGeneral Mc Cliffe had told them to find the ship, but he had no idea how they would succeed. The jungle was too dense. Being an arachnophobe, the spiders didn't help either. But they trudged on. \n\nAs night fell, the team decided to halt for a few hours, and make a campfire. Ron, the 30-year something old son of a former war hero, was tasked with finding some kindling. They didn't have time to bring their normal kits. An unfortunate lapse of logistics. \n\n[And now, I really have to finish my sociology studying.]", "Overnight the coast went from oceanic waves, rolling infinity, deep cool depths... to forest.\n\nSome claimed magic, an act of god, an alien invasion- but whatever the reasons, it was there. Along the very edges, was undergrowth, saplings, and low growing brush. Dark, deep green, that slowly grew into bushes in a way that kept it disturbingly level to the eye. Even further beyond that, grew into thick trees, which seemed to stretch to impossible size a they continued on into, what was once, the sea floor. As you stared from the sandy coast, what was once an ocean of blue, was now an ocean of green- with waves of foliage and leaves wafting to shore, in place of foaming crests.\n\nWhen I first hiked into the forest, I only went in a quarter of a mile through the brushline before the panic began to set in, and ran the entire way back.\n\nThe second time I went further, to the first real trees- the first real clearings... the third time I had signed my soul away, packed for a month, and wasn't alone. \n\nThere was too much mystery in a world where everything had been discovered, too much begging to be explored- fear couldn't stop me. I wanted to know what was out there. I signed the papers, took the salary commission, locked the door and walked away from everything I knew.\n\nMaine was a heck of a place to live if you loved the outdoors, but I had never tried to take the ocean on, not in the way many of my neighbors did. I needed solid ground under my feet, and the sapping cold of the water was always too much for me- I had never been able to enjoy it. Hiking, mountain climbing, backpacking, camping in the deep of winter, these had been the things that made me feel alive. An expedition into the great unknown- to try and forge ahead and see something no one else had... how could I pass that up? To be completely honest, I couldn't. There wasn't a single way I was going to let it sit there, just a few miles from my home; there was no way I was going to let it taunt me.\n\nWhen I met with the rest of the group, I was shocked to see how few people felt as I did- there really weren't many of us. Only twenty people arrived as planned- out of a network of hundreds. It wasn't as if the pay was going to be poor, these were all professionals, scientists and field researchers. The government had deep pockets for people willing to go out and survey the new terrain, see if we could find water sources beneath the thick canopy. Satellites had become all but useless- there was so much material in their way, they needed boots on the ground.\n\nI suppose I had been so caught up in the beauty, and the mystery of the green depths, that I had ignored the rumors already circling it. A lot of people didn't come back from them.\n\nI guess a paycheck is only worth it, if you can come back and collect it.\n\nAs we started our trek, from the coast near Portland- we had a ten man Navy Seal team as an escort. Tough as nails, made of grit and muscle, the crew walked calmly, checking their navigation and radioing to the escort above the forest as we continued- a large military blimp. A strange but effective means of following by air. More and more of those were being pumped into production- the U.S might as well be on a wartime economy for all the resources they were focusing. The whole world had been flipped on it's side, and they wanted to come out of the mess on top. It made a lot of sense when you considered the implications of this entire thing were endless.\n\nWas there still water somewhere down below that impenetrable canopy of trees? Was global warming and carbon pollution being erased in a single year? Would the great lakes suddenly become the most precious commodity on the planet short of the glaciers at the poles? The sooner we knew, the better. That seemed to be the logic.\n\nStill, I knew there was more to it then that. Unlike the other expeditions that were heading out all over the country- ours seemed to have a specific destination in mind- we didn't stay in the \"shallows\" for very long- we were heading farther. How much farther they didn't say. The Seals were not a talkative group.\n\nThe first week was enough to cover almost a hundred miles- east and south if my compass could still be trusted. \n\nOur progress had been slow at first, as the rough underbrush seemed to hinder our ever step, giving way only to machetes and angry curses. Slowly though, it thinned, as we approached what I could only imagine was the edge of the continental shelf. By a month, we had begun descending into the true nature of the green depths- surrounded by foreign trees which were, at times, dozens of measures thicker than redwoods, and potentially hundreds of times taller. The sheer intimidation of such giants was unbelievable.\n\nSamples were collected en masse for the first hundred, before the shock wore off, and was replaced by a tense intimidating fear.\n\nThe further we traveled, the denser it got, and the stranger things became.\n\nYou don't think about air as heavy- not normally. You don't consider it because generally it isn't a problem- usually the most you'll notice is at higher altitudes, being the lack of it. It was the opposite for us. The farther we went, the thicker the air, the heavier the air. We were miles below what any human besides James Cameron, had ever been- but instead of water there was air.\n\nBeyond the potential health problems I had begun to consider- I was far more concerned with our Seal escorts. Their communication with our over head supply blimp- which had been dropping needed gear, and providing direction... well their communication had stopped... days ago. It had become clear there was a secondary objective to their presence- often I heard low murmuring talk of \"the ship.\"\n\nThey continued to lead us, deeper and deeper, descending to the point where a terrifying eternal twilight, slipped into total darkness, as hundreds upon hundreds of layers intercepted above us- desperately catching every speck of light. The Lamps came out then, and a base camp was set up. It appeared that somewhere in this area was the objective- and it was as good as any place to establish a HQ, to await for the secondary groups and try to reconnect with the supply blimps and report findings.\n\nI had a degree, and had held a job in the field before, but I wasn't a real scientist. I wasn't much like the group that settled in around their laptops, their well-lit tents filled with research samples and reports. I would help collect, and I knew what to look for- but I was here because I wanted to bear witness. Maybe to the supernatural, or some mystery unexplained, impossible- something that proved to me there was more.\n\nWhen the Seal team left on a scouting exploration- wandering through the strange bioluminescent ferns that hung at ankle level between the massive trunks that spread off in every direction, and didn't return... I began to suspect. Perhaps they had found the ship, perhaps they had gotten lost. I found both of these things doubtful.\n\nMaybe something else had found them.\n\nI had noticed the occasional movement in the darkness- running from our lights, a strange clatter among the endless, silent trees... a rustle near the tents.\n\nWait.\n\nA rustle near the tents.\n\nThe scent of blood and... earth... seemed to permeate the air from my post at the edge of the floodlight perimeter. I suddenly found myself remembering a passage I had read once, years ago; that on the deep sea floor, creatures that were normally minute and minuscule in stature, could grow massive. That creatures from millions of years ago, when the oxygen content was higher, could grow to disturbing size.\n\nGiant black eyes reflecting the glow of flood lights in the distance, staring back into my own from the shadows. Red mandibles barely catching the faintest reflections on their ghostly translucent shells.", "I was on the bridge of the tanker when it happened. It was like a dream. One minute, we were plowing through the pitch black sea, the next, a never ending swath of green had replaced it. If I hadn't been watching it, I wouldn't have believed it. \n\nOur ship, a grain tanker making its way toward North America from Brazil, was suddenly aground. \"What's going on?\" The disheveled captain crossed the bulkhead. \"We're aground... I think.\" Captain wasted no time, \"What do you mean, 'you think'? Are we aground or aren't we?\" \"Well the engines are overheating, and we're not moving. I already throttled them back. We also have no rudder, not even the bow thrusters are working.\" The captain thought momentarily, then turned to me and gesticulated, \"Alright, Collins, get in the water and let me know what we're dealing with, I'll call it in to the Coast Guard.\" \"I'm on it.\" I bounded down the hard metal staircase, conscious of my heart pounding in my ears as I tried to think about what I had just seen. The ocean... was green? Maybe an algae bloom covering a sandbar? I would know soon, but it didn't stop me from wondering.\n\nAfter getting all my gear set, I made for the stern of the ship. Below the railing, the ocean roiled a dark green. My fellow divers scoffed when I requested that I dive tethered, that is, with a line between myself and the ship, but I was still in shock after seeing the ocean turn green, and wanted every convenience I could. I clambered down a ladder into the water, gingerly lowering myself until I was submersed. I felt another swathe of uneasiness hit me like a shot to the gut. \n\nVisibility in the water was good. I could see down the curve of the hulls almost to the bow, and about 20 feet down. At that depth, the ocean floor shimmered like a mirror. The ship was embedded almost 20 feet deep, covering the props. This was bad. I had seen pictures of ships stuck this bad that still hadn't been properly removed years later. From the surface, I couldn't make out the ocean floor very well, and swam closer. As I drew closer to the floor, I noticed it moved as I disturbed it, looking strangely familiar. I let the air out of my BCE and dropped toward the floor feet first, meaning to land. \n\nWhat happened next I will try my best to explain in as clear words as I can manage.\n\nMy feet pushed through the ground into thin air, and the rest of me soon followed. I was falling. On instinct, I fumbled the tether cable for some slack, pulling as much as I could through my hands in an effort to... You know I'm not sure what I thought it would do. Maybe if I had climbed fast enough I could have gotten out of there before anything happened and saved everyone. But It didn't help. \n\nThe tether on the ship ran out of line to feed, and the cable slapped through my grasping hands as I struggled in vain to hold on to the burning lead. It reached the end of its length, and went taught quickly, but I did not die. In fact, I was not harmed at all. As I hung on the end of the line, I looked around, my dive mask fogged and crooked on my sweating face. I tore it off and caught my breath, spitting out the regulator. I coughed as gas filled my lungs, but it tasted acrid and painful. I took a few quick breaths as I scrambled for my regulator and put it back in my mouth. I hung there momentarily, breathing deeply as my heartbeat finally began to slow. I looked around, now aware that my eyes were burning in this air as well. With a sigh, I realized that I had dropped my goggles while grabbing my regulator. Soldier on, I guess, I thought to myself.\n\nI looked around the dimly lit grouping of trees I hung between. They were unlike any trees I had seen. Monstrously tall trees, divided into green sections of bulged, smooth material that dimly reflected the light from above. Their tops were pointed like barbs. I swallowed heavily and realized how lucky I was to not have fallen on one of these spiked trees. The darkness was compounded by them, which let only the slightest shafts of murky white light. of light on the ground below, which I could see was white and speckled with black dots. \n\nIt was only at this moment that I noticed that I was slowly descending. I grew concerned, looking up the tether to the ship above, stranded as if stuck in a sheet of ice. I grabbed the tether tentatively, but couldn't lift myself with my hands so torn from the fall. I fell back, defeated and exhausted. Beneath me was an offshoot of one of the massive trees, and I alighted upon it as I came to it. As the line kept spilling down into the dim space below. I removed the tether, but kept the end of the lead in my hand and near my harness, just in case. In the silence of this place, I started to hear sounds. Metal creaking under pressure, and something beneath me as well. I could hear from the ship the hum of the diesel engine, its usual din more raucous as the water intake drew labored breaths from the lower atmosphere. \nThe whole thing happened so quietly it was hard to believe. The ship began to fall. I can't when for sure, but I noticed the tether began to whip past violently, getting faster every second. I had to get away. I was in flight mode again, making my way down the branch toward the trunk of the strange tree I stood on. I jumped a short distance to an adjacent branch, noticing that they were very tightly knit. I walked quickly across several trees before looking back at the ship, its stern noticeably lower than before. As I watched, it started falling more quickly, the gravity of this strange place pulling it ever deeper into the forest of spikes. In no time, it was in free fall. For a horrifying second, it fell through open air before impaling heavily on the spikes below. They burst through the metal like the ship were softened butter, the rear of the ship collapsing on itself under the force of the fall. \n\nJaw agape I stared at the remains of the ship. Could they have survived? Could anything have survived a fall like that? I started back toward it, briskly stepping between the branches of the trees. As I got to the ships remains, my heart sank. There was nothing left of the rear decks. The impact had torn down much of the superstructure of the rear. I called out to my crewmates, but to no avail. There was no response, and I had no chance looking through the tons of heavy metal while also trying to negotiate the branches of the trees. Making my way along the edge of where the ship had fallen, I saw the spool of the tether where I had dived from less than half an hour ago among the remains. The line had unraveled to the ground below, and I knew it was my only way out of these trees quickly, as walking in the branches was exhausting, and there was no way up to the sliver of ocean suspended far above my head. I slowly clambered down the rope, tenderly gripping with my wounded hands as I slowly reached the ground. \n\nDismounting the rope, I gripped my hands tightly. This was the first time I noticed how deeply sliced they had been from my fall. I looked around. It was strange here, a sandy floor densely populated with these thick spike trees going on for as far as I could see in any direction. I shifted the regulator in my mouth, licking my lips uncomfortably as I breathed the dry air from my tank- My tank. I had forgotten that my life was ticking away. Maybe it gave me a few more minutes because I wasn't frantically breathing what little air I had left. The atmosphere here was toxic, that much was sure. Looking at my dive computer, I had almost an hour of air left by my calculations. I had to get moving, but to where? \nI didn't know the ocean floor here well, or if this... place... even remotely resembled the ocean floor. What happened? Why now? \n\nThese thoughts quickly left my head as I felt the ground shift beneath my feet. Animalistic instinct took over as I ran quickly away from the spot, which almost immediately was overtaken by a humongous worm-like creature with multifaceted red eyes. As it burst through, it paused momentarily, seeming to observe me momentarily before retreating underground. No sooner did it start moving again that took off, trying to move in a zigzag pattern as quickly as I could plodding through the thick sand. The beast was always at my heels. I could feel it tunneling behind me, never more than a foot or so from my heels. It was toying with me. Tiring me out. A trait not seen in any earthly creature, other than mankind itself. \n\nI quickly became extremely lightheaded from breathing the canned oxygen. After a few wobbly strides, I collapsed in the sand. The tremor disappeared. I turned onto my back, looking up at the water-sky. Exhaustion pinned me to the spot, my head rushing with oxygen rich air as my chest rose and fell.\n\nI took a deep breath in, then winced as something pinched on my back, then quickly pressed through my chest before my eyes. A long, thick needle protruded from a newly sucking chestwound . It retracted quickly, and I felt my chest go numb. I then pulled out my phone and wrote this document on my Baconreader reddit app, and posted this in the first random posting I found. If anyone can hear me, I will not survive. But know my account of this event, for it may shape our understanding of what happened to our planet in the furure. As for me, I have only one request. Upvotes, tons and tons of upvotes. As many as you can spare. If I will die alone, I don't want to die unpopular. \n", "May 4th, 2098 7:04 A.M.\n\nIt's been 3 days now since the oceans have disappeared, and the government still has no idea what caused it. The agents and scientists have their ideas, but everyone knows whatever it is... it is irreversible. \n\nThe crew and I intercepted some radio broadcasts that tell of an English submarine lying at the bottom of the Atlantic. It's believed that the imploded hunk of metal has valuable information and it could even shed some light on what caused this whole thing. There are many rumors swirling around the station at the moment.\n\nMike and a few other new guys believe this is extra terrestrial. Maybe an attempt to cause a war between the continents so they can come in and clean up after. Michael thinks that aliens want to take over the planet once the United States has been weakened by war. To be fair, it wasn't but 7 years ago we had our first contact with the Kaisedorians; it's understandable that they might want to colonize the planet after the Royal Air force shot down their welcome ship.\n\nThe rest of us at the mobile station think it's a ruse by the United Kingdom to cripple America. Everyone is aware of the lack of timber and the ever growing demand for it. It makes perfect sense for England to sink a few billion pounds into a ploy that will indefinitely send America into the U.K.'s debts for the remainder of our time here on Earth. No matter what the case there is very little known about the newly formed Atlantian Forest. \n\nExploration teams appeared almost as quickly as the oceans disappeared. There is no limit to what people will do when the reward is government issued gold. Government run units of tanks and bi-rotor helicopters race into the dark, sunless forest day and night in search of discovery. Civilian run unites, such as ours, also enter in search of new life. The forest that grew overnight yields an uncanny resemblance to the California Gold Rush of 1848. Some teams are comprised of husband and wife on an ATV while other more experience outdoors men have surveillance equipment, rifles, and an RV. Any units that have documented or physical evidence that can be retrieved from the New World and brought back to D.C. have a government bond waiting for them. \n\nEverything started out smoothly, Mike was leading the caravan of RVs through the sky scraping trees like he was born to. However, it wasn't the first time he's been in a leadership position. Back in 2087 he was a Captain in the United States Army. It was in the 3rd World War when Michael Houle was honorably discharged from the armed services. While leading his men through the sky scraping buildings of Moscow a building collapsed due to artillery fire. Inevitably he was pinned under some rebar and suffered some nasty breaks, hence his discharge. But 11 years later here we are, and he is leading our rag tag team of RVs through what seems to be No Man's Land.\n\nOur RV was composed of Mike, the driver, Rick, Mike's army buddy, some community members who wanted a share of the reward money, and my wife Linda. Linda was a nurse in the ER of the local hospital, so it was apparent that we bring her along too. \n\nDay one was uneventful; we drove for what felt like hours without stopping. The first hundred miles of forest were considerably more dense than the inner forest. It was like someone designed the layout, almost like a map. The trees, my God the trees... They were unlike anything I've ever seen. Each individual trunk was at least 20 feet thick, but the trees were all connected at the top. You could saw through the base of one of those monsters, but it wouldn't fall. They had a network of limbs and leaves that connected the tremendous beings into one great organism. The scientists were surprised at the abundance of plant life, and the complete absence of mammal life or any animal life for that matter. There was nothing. Vines were everywhere, new species of orchids were collected, even ferns that toppled over the antennae of our convoy were seen, but no animals...\n\nThe second day was even slower than the first. We passed abandoned team vehicles every hour. One of the desolated transports was an RV just like ours. Unlike ours, their RV was tipped on its right side sealing the door with the Earth below it. The windows were shattered and tires flat. The canopy of foliage above made it near dark at the floor level. It was almost at the stage of twilight even though it was noon; it was no wonder they crashed. The oddest part of their ruins is that despite being only a few hours old, vines have already taken residence across the entire bus. The dark green fingers of the plants made their way from the windshield to the passenger windows in just the time it took us to start our engine back up. There is something about this new world that isn't Earthly.\n\nOne by one the transports behind us either crashed, malfunctioned or chose to turn back. By the end of the second day we were the last member of the caravan abandoned in total darkness. We had no choice but to wait another 10 hours for the light conditions to better. Mike and I chose to spend this time catching up on some much needed sleep. On the other hand, I'm confident the scientists haven't slept since we started the expedition. They're in a world of ecstasy down here. There is so much raw discovery for them; this is what they live for.\n\nMike and I awoke the next morning to find the scientists and Linda sleeping for the first time in 50 hours. We were finally ready to move on and find that submarine we heard about on the radio. The problem was the bus... This time our bus was covered in dark green tendrils that spawned from the Earth. The vines got into everything mechanical: the wheels, the exhaust system, the brake lines... Everything...\n\nCpt. Houle made the executive decision that he and I leave the RV in search of the wreck. Linda and the lab rats will stay back and continue research while we're gone for the day. If Michael and I fail this we'll have nothing to show for our trip. We have to collect the data from the wreck, it may lead to the World's prosperity.\n\nMay 6th, 2098 11:56 A.M.\n\nRecovery Unit 12-A of Virginia: Door to the vehicle was found open. No life or corpses found aboard the snared RV. If I didn't know any better I'd say this thing has been abandoned for months. No data recordings or video evidence found either just this journal of what seems like the leader of the crew. This will be taken back to headquarters for further examination. \n\n\nThanks for reading I wrote this really early in the morning so forgive any errors. Criticism is welcomed :)", "We had departed into the Wood ten days ago. Or at least what I think is ten days. Accurately keeping track of the days would require something of a miracle. The foliage above can become so opaque at times that we'd think the sun has already set. Hmm, on second thought maybe that's a poor choice of words. The dark patches are on a whole different level than ordinary night. At least at night there are stars, or the moon. Something to help you orient yourself. We don't have that in the Wood. It's just pure darkness, like we're temporarily blind-struck with no choice but to wander aimlessly until we find our sight again. We have flashlights, of course. But those don't last forever, and this *is* a two-way trip. And it's better to save them for when we really need them, in case we ever run into trouble.\n\nThere have been stories of \"creatures,\" for lack of a better word, living in the Wood. Our squad leader told us to ignore them, that they're just myths, but I can tell that even he's uneasy out here. I mean, why would they send a fully armed Coast Guard squad just to investigate a distress beacon if there wasn't *some* level of danger? I have to stop thinking like that though. Focus on the objective. We can just see the ship from where we are now. I'll be out of here soon enough.\n\nThe canopy is practically impenetrable, like nothing our planet has ever seen before. That was the reason we had to set out on foot in the first place. The brush is too thick for any aerial deployment, let alone extraction. It was even interfering the distress beacon somewhat. Nonetheless, we made it. The ship is only about a hundred yards away.\n\nWe begin our final approach. With each step the ship becomes more visible. It was in a relatively sparse area. Not too many trees around. That means less foliage above. Thin strands of light shine down on the ship from above like glistening silk. I can just make out the details of the hull. It was a dull gray with a thick red stripe closer to the top. Within the red was a write word written in some sort of fancy font, \"Expedition.\" The top's overgrown, but by the looks of it it's probably a commercial fishing boat.\n\nThe squad leader signals to me, and then a hole torn in the side of the hull with two fingers on a raised hand. His arm's shaking, a bead of sweat running down the side of his forehead. He's nervous. And with good reason. It had taken me until now to realize the change in the atmosphere as we approached the ship, I was focusing too much on the boat. It's more quiet than before. No, it's not just quiet. It's *dead* silent. I can feel my mind going numb, my heart beating in my own chest. I'm surrounded by a faint sense of danger slowly closing in, slowly growing. Like something can hear my pulse. Like something was just waiting for me to walk straight into it's trap, out in the open so it can kill me. So it can kill everyone. \n\nI raise my rifle to a more guarded position and look at the rest of my squad. Everybody's clearly in a panicked state. I'm not the only one. We have to get out of the open. The ship. We have to get to the ship. I finally register the squad leader's order and make my way towards the breach.\n\nI take one step in and give the all-clear to the rest of the squad. It didn't take them long to get through the breach. There was a feeling of relief emanating throughout the ship. Now, back to the objective: search the ship for any survivors, and get the hell out.\n\nWe turn on our flashlights and advance to a room at the end of the long corridor. The discomfort is starting to come back. The floor. There's something wrong with the floor. I don't know what it is but it sure as hell isn't metal. My feet don't \"squish\" on metal. What am I saying? It's just water. We passed plenty of marshes on our way here. That's it. Probably residual from when the Wood first appeared. Stop being so paranoid.\n\nI step into the room with the rest of my squad following suit. It's big. My flashlight doesn't even reach the walls. We're going to have to split up if we want to find a way out of here so we can keep searching.\n\nSo we do. We fan out in four different directions. After a few feet I can no longer make out the \"squishing\" of my squad's footsteps. I stop. The silence is coming back. This isn't safe. I'm all alone. We need to regroup. I start running back in the direction I came, calling my squad. No answer. And it didn't take long to find out why.\n\nWhen I get back to the door to the corridor, I see it. Three white spikes protruding out of the ground. And my squad mates, all impaled through their chests, blood gushing from their mouths. They're dead. They're fucking dead.\n\nWhat do I do? I don't know what to do. FUCK I HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE. I HAVE TO GET THE THE BREACH.\n\nI sprint as fast as can down the corridor. I'm at the end. Where is it? Where's the fucking hole? SHIT, WHERE IS IT? \n\nI shine my flashlight at where the breach is supposed to be. What the fuck is this? I reach my hand out to touch the fleshy red material that's in the place of the hole, and shine my flashlight down at the ground to see the same disgusting red mush. It wasn't water. I'm not fucking getting out of here.", "***The Atlantic Journal of Adam Carter, Volume #1***\n\n*Thursday, December 5th*\n\nBy the time the sun had set below the horizon our group had set up camp at the lip of an enormous valley. I was searching my provisions for a tin of soup when I overheard two soldiers arguing over our current position. One seemed convinced that we were nearing South America, which would put our day's work and trajectory at fault, whereas the other argued that his logic was faulty, and that we were actually closer to the eastern shore of Africa. As the conversation threatened to turn physical our navigator, Henry Willis Silver, rose from the fire and - with an air of exasperation - explained that we were looking down at what used to be the Romanche Trench, which would put our current position at the seem between both continental plates. 'In other words, you're both right, so keep your thoughts to yourselves!'\n\nThe two soldiers lingered for a moment, then returned to their duties. I found this amusing, and at some point on the voyage I had intended to ask Silver about his connections to the crew of the *Anna Maria*, the boat that now so completely occupied our time. But his curtness with the men was a signifier of his exasperation, so I decided that it wasn't the right time. Besides, I had agreed to have a meal in Captain Roberts' tent, a privileged that greatly annoyed my research assistant, Holloway Pierce. Even though we are still sharing a tent together he has scarcely talked to me since the rather unpleasant incident with the shark. It matters not, though, for his reputation as an academic at Cambridge is almost as second rate as his style of prose.\n\nWhen I arrived in the captain's tent I could smell fried fish and oil. Most of the carcasses littering the forest's floor had decayed by now, but early on in the voyage Roberts had ordered the smaller fish to be stored in bags of ice to preserve their freshness, and when the ice melted I advised him to smoke half of our supplies and salt the others. The smoked ones went bad after two days, but the salted ones stayed fresh, which had earned me this much-envied visit to his quarters.\n\nWhen he saw me he grinned enthusiastically. 'Adam my boy! Did you bring the soup?'\n\nI told him I had, and placed it besides the bottle of whiskey sitting on the table.\n\n'Splendid! Take a seat, I'll be with you in a moment.'\n\nI sat on the wooden stool and admired the furnishings of his tent. A henry rifle was propped in the corner next to his bedroll, and the military jacket lying sprawled on the floor positively glinted in the glow of the fire, but most impressive was the row of animal teeth lined up along the surface of his footlocker. From left to right they got progressively larger, and as he brought over two plates of fried fish I asked him where he had acquired the long, phallic tusk sitting at the end of the row. He told me a long and well-rehearsed tale of his days hunting elephants along the Gold coast, and that the tusk came from 'A particularly rambunctious young pachyderm that nearly flattened me and my crew with a surprisingly quick charging manoeuvre! Fortunately I bested the beast with that very rifle you see at my bedside, and its tusk I keep with me to remind me of exciting times. Flesh & blood, 'tis what motivates me to find this b----y ship in the lands that God has blighted us with for our sins. Give me Africa anyday!'\n\nYet it was not long after we finished our meal that we heard the sudden clamour of panicked cries, followed by a most almighty crash. Roberts and I both rose from our positions and ran outside to the camp, which was now unrecognisable. The carcass of a whale had fallen from the ridge above us, and had crushed at least five of our tents, presumably with their occupants still inside. Scattered amongst the survivors were large, flabby segments of whale - the body seemed to have practically exploded upon impact. The smell made me feel nauseous. In addition to this, the air was marked by the screams of Henry Willis Silver, who had been pulled out from underneath the body and was claiming that his legs had been crushed and that he could no longer feel them. A number of the soldiers stared at the whale in disbelief, whereas others were picking parts of flesh from their skin and hair. One grief-stricken fellow was looking up at the ridge from where it had fallen and repeating jabbing his finger at something. I followed his gaze and was met with the unmistakable sight of eyes looking down at us. A series of dark figures sat still on the horizon, too dim to make out clearly in the dying light but too distinctive to brush off as a hallucination. Had that whale been pushed? Before I could find an answer to my question the eyes began to disappear, two by two, until the ridge was as dark and lifeless as it was before. When I returned to my tent I saw Captain Roberts run over to the mouth of the creature and yell at someone to fetch his knife, he wanted to see how big this thing's teeth were.\n\nAs I sit writing this, half our crew are dead, the *Anna Maria* remains undiscovered, and I must now live in fear of an unidentified hostile presence. I am beginning to consider the fact that I may have made a huge mistake in undertaking this dangerous mission. I shall reassess my position in the morning.", "No one was sure what caused the global bloom, but the world changed overnight. \n\n“Marine scientists have been reporting increased algae activity for months, but something within the last week has caused rapid expansion of these oceanic forests.” The reporter stood near the beach, a vast jungle extending behind him. “Preliminary reports are showing that the forest is made up of at least ten different species within the Laminariales order, a type of sea kelp. Looking over the Atlantic is a sight to behold. The forest has grown at least 50 feet above the surface, and a bed of 20 feet of undergrowth has made the ocean surface impenetrable. As a result of impeded global trade, stock markets around the world have hit an all-time low…” \n\nCharles stared at his computer screen, watching television recordings of today’s events. “Of course this happened.” He had been part of a research team for the last two months, studying the growth of these plants. It started with just a few local areas, but the growth was faster than anybody on the research team had expected. They had tried warning the government, but they weren't taken seriously. Now the majority of his team was trapped somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic. \n\n“Charles, you need to pay attention to the parachuting procedure.”\n\nCharles looked up from his computer. David, one of his research colleagues, motioned towards the soldier at the front of the plane.\n\n“This is going to be a difficult recon mission. As you’re aware, we've received signals from the Augustine. But, we can’t tell exactly where the ship is located under this green mess. You’ll have to cut yourself down from the tops of these plants after you've made a safe landing. We’ll be approaching the drop zone in five minutes.”\n\nDavid looked at Charles, “what do you think we’re gonna find down there?”\n\n“Probably just a slimy mess of seaweed.”\n\n“Yeah, but why would they bring us along on a recon mission? These guys are military. They only need us because they have no idea of what to expect down there. They think we actually know something about this stuff.”\n\n“It’s kelp, David. A bunch of fucking slimy kelp.”\n\nThe descent was fast, and the team landed in a mess of overgrowth. With a few cuts, they were able to separate the tops of the plants enough to peer below to the surface. The kelp stalks were unlike anything ever seen before. As thick as tree trunks, they packed the forest with wet, green vegetation. David took a knife to one of the kelp trunks. It made a squirting noise as the blade penetrated the outer layer. \n\n“These things are full of water,” David exclaimed. “The global sea levels have probably dropped tremendously as a result of this growth.”\n\nThe bed of the forest was a tightly knit undergrowth of green and red seaweed strands. The moisture seeped into everyone’s boots. It was extremely hot down there. A sweltering sauna of salty, dank ocean musk filled the air. Little crabs scurried into the darkness, away from the forest intruders.\n\nOne of the soldiers pulled out a GPS device. “The ship should be this way only a few hundred feet.”\n\nCharles whispered, “David, this isn't what I was expecting at all. Listen to the forest. It’s alive. And the smell… it smells rotten. There must be hundreds of creatures already living here.”\n\n“That has to be impossible. It’s barely been a week since this all grew. All of this is impossible. How could it all grow this tall? To this extent?” \n\nUp ahead, the team could see the hull of a ship peeking through the forest floor. The entire ship was covered in growth. It took the team 3 hours to cut an entrance to the ship’s main hatch. Charles peered inside. Nobody was there. \n\nOne of the officers yelled, “Hello?! This is the U.S. military. Is anybody there?!” The ship was silent. The recon team searched the entire vessel. \n\n“I don’t get it,” David said, “They had to be trapped in here. Where did they go?”\n \nFrom below, one of the soldiers yelled out. “You guys need to get down here. The scientists!” Charles and David hurried to the lower level. The soldier was bent over a gaping hole in the bottom of the ship. Charles looked over the edge. \n\n“Holy shit.”\n\nIt was gone. The ocean was gone. The roots of the forest extended to the ocean floor, sucking up every last drop of water and killing the majority of sea creatures. A faint light flickered in the distance. \n\nThe soldier exclaimed, “The other scientists! That must be them.”\n\nCharles hurried down the system of roots towards the depths of the ocean floor. The light was only 300 feet away. It was blinding. “What could they be doing down here? And what in the hell do they need that bright light for?” Charles hurried towards the light, calling the names of his colleagues.\n \n“What in the hell?” The light stood still. It was bright orb, seamlessly floating. No, not standing still anymore... Bobbing now. Slowly, the light began rising upwards over Charles’ head, illuminating his surroundings. A shiny, bone-white cage revealed itself. A sickly sweet stench filled the air. \n\n“Teeth…? It’s a fucking mouth.” \n", "“Shit, Carol, watch your step”, I mumbled, pulling my feet from under her heavy boot.\n\n“Go fuck yourself, Greg.”\n\nWe had been walking for half an hour in silence now, the last words spoken to each other being respectively “DID YOU SEE THAT THING? and \"JUST SHUT UP AND RUN, MORON\".\n\n*That thing* I asked my ex-wife if she had seen being, of course, a twenty feet tall evil gum bubble.\n\nI don’t know how else to describe it.\n\nIt sprouted out of the ground, no warning, and went “EEEEEEEEEEEEEERCH”, then started running \ntowards us, spitting weird, little smokey blorbs of whatever in our direction.\n\nI didn't know what that crap was, but it would probably hurt our skin if it touched us. Also, neither myself nor Carol knew how to kill a giant gum bubble. So he ran.\n\nWho knew I’d spend the first year of my divorce traveling through the New Forest, running alongside my ex from a giant \nclitoris-looking monster?\n\nNot me.\n\n“I think we are supposed to turn this way”, Carol said, checking her map.\n\n“Whatever you say”, I replied, just to piss her off.\n\nWe did that a lot. Stuff just to piss each other off.\n\nThat’s because no recently divorced couple are meant to spend time together. Ever. It's against the laws of nature, of something.\n\nUnfortunately for us, she’s the best biologist in the country. And me? Well, I’m in the marine corps, so whatever the fuck \nthey tell me to do, I have to do.\n\nAnd they decided that we were best suited for the mission.\n\n“Not only are you both extremely qualified, you’re also familiar with each other, which is essential for the success of \na rescue mission like this.”\n\n“What about the fact that I hate her like poison?” I asked, and Carol, by my side, nodded feverishly in agreement. This was back at the general secret headquarters of God knows were in Washington DC.\n\nImportant stuff. Military, secret stuff. Our little mission.\n\n“Well, you’ll just have to deal with it\", the General said.\n\nAnd so there we were, at the forest. Running from monsters and snapping one liners at each other while we looked for a sunken ship. \n\nDealing with it.\n\n“There”, Carol said, pointing ahead.\n\nI looked through the thick layer of dark green giant leafs – big like part of a Cretaceous period documentary scenery – \ninto what my ex wife was pointing at.\n\nThe ship. We weren’t close enough to see the name, but I knew what it was. \n\nI knew written on the side of that giant piece of metal was “SS Arabia”. The one we were looking for.\n\n“Come on.”\n\nThere were few things I wanted less in the world at that moment then going towards that ship, but I followed Carol anyway.\n\nThe SS Arabia was an actual cruise ship. The kind that used to roam the seas, back when there were seas. \n\nIt was a fairly normal and standard cruise liner, like hundreds of others lost in the mazey jungle of dangerous animals and exotic plants that was the New Forest, except for one detail:\n\nA few days ago, it had sent a distress call.\n\nYou know, like the kind that is send when people are actually alive and in distress inside the ship.\n\nWhich made no sense whatsoever, because, far as everyone knew until recently, no one that was a board anything had \nsurvived, when the oceans decided to disappear.\n\nStill, the distress call came, along with a radio signal. Some noises, indistinct human voices.\n\nWeird shit.\n\n“Give me a hand here, Greg”, I heard, and realized I had been standing in front of the Arabia, gazing at it from top to \nbottom, all its magnitude and the rusted beauty of what it once was, all while Carol was trying to push a heavy metal \ndoor open in front of me.\n\nThe ship was sunk into the ground almost a meter, rising out of the jungle and pointing its beak up into the sky like it was \nwaking up to a lazy Sunday morning. I could tell it had been a beautiful ship, someday, but that day was long gone. Today it just looked like a big piece \nof metal with ghosts inside. I feared we might be adding to the count, if we were not careful.\n\nPulling from opposite sides, on three, we managed to creak the door open enough to squeeze ourselves through.\n\nA cold, stale breath of air squeezed out the dark insides of what appeared to be the ship’s machine room, hitting us in the face like an abusive husband.\n\n*Also, was that a faint scream? Or am I hearing things?*\n\n“Are you scared, too?” I asked, my hand hovering over the G25 Glock tucked in my waistband.\n\n“Go fuck yourself, Greg”, Carol said, crouch and stepping inside the Arabia. \n\nI sighed. This was worst than being married to her.\n\n“Fuck me…” I whispered, following my wife’s ass inside the ghost ship.\n\n", "Three months ago the world’s oceans disappeared. Forests covered the entire expanse. The trees defied everything known about plant life. Trees thousands of feet tall and many hundreds of feet in diameter sprung up over night. The initial explorers into these forests described them as being in giant kelp forests out of the water.\n\nThe sea animals all disappeared replaced by creatures never before seen. Not one fish, whale, walrus or any other sea animal’s carcass was ever found. It was as if someone had scooped them all out.\n\n We had been hired to find a ship, The Smokehouse, which had gone down in the Atlantic. It had carried a full hold of rare earth minerals worth millions of dollars at the time. At the time the ship had gone down it had been prohibitively expensive to salvage it.\n\nThe cargo plane circled over our drop area. “You’ve got to jump now,” radioed the pilot. “If we don’t head back soon we’re going to run out of fuel before making it back to the airfield.”\n\nOur supplies had already been jettisoned out the back of the plane. “Roger,” I responded. I gave my team thumbs up. They returned it. “Jumping now,” I said, and I was out. \n\nThe jump was uneventful for me. I had been worried about unknown weather patterns now that the oceans were gone. However, the weather was calmer than I had ever seen it over the middle of the Atlantic. It didn’t make sense.\n\nI unstrapped my parachutes at the floor of the forest. My team turned on their beacons, and we all met in short order. Only Jones hadn’t made it down. We found him off course up in the tree branches. It looked like the branches had wrapped themselves around his body and squeezed much like a boa constrictor until he died. \n\n“What the hell?” said Ram.\n\nI spit on the ground. Something in the air tasted foul and left a bitter taste in my mouth. “We don’t know what the hell these things are. Maybe it’s some kind of defense mechanism.” I looked around. “We need to be careful around the plants.”\n\nAbbott smacked the side of her tablet. “I’m getting a shitty signal, but I think I’ve located our supplies.” She looked up. “GPS is spotty. Might be more difficult to find The Smokehouse than we expected.”\n\nI shrugged. “More time to gather samples.”\n\nThe first supply box had been torn open. MREs, first aid kits and sampling kits lay strewn around the forest floor. Our biologist Carson kneeled down and ran her fingers over the marks. “This crate was torn open by something big and strong. I don’t know of anything short of a polar bear that would have the strength to do this. Even then it would take a polar bear a while to break into it.” She looked back at me. “This looks like one, maybe two swipes.”\n\nI grit my teeth and loosened my sidearm in its holster. “We need to find the weapons crate next. Where is it, Abbott?” I said.\n\nShe smacked her tablet, turned to face multiple directions before stopping and pointing. “North-east from here. About three miles.”\n\n“Fuck. We travel fast and light. We need those weapons,” I said. I spit on the ground again. “Take only the bare minimum. We’ve got to get there before sundown. Expect to stay the night and make camp with defensive measures at the weapons crate.” \n\nI looked around the forest. We were in over our head. I hoped that Jones would be the only one lost on this expedition. \n", "We were constantly getting new reports from the mainland, if it should still be called that. More Expeditions having lost contact. More financial catastrophies being caused by the impossibility of naval travel. More famous people being declared missing or dead, on ships lost the day the oceans changed. And more theories about what the hell had happened, why, *why* in the world it did, and how it would affect the climate and so on and so on. Sciency stuff, politics, the media went crazy.\n\nNot that we weren't. The world was in chaos, and here we were, working for some billionaire, searching for his family. Only underneath our airship there was no water. Just trees. But they were strange trees indeed. Stretching from one horizon to the other, there was dark treetops, ground nowhere to be seen. If you went down there, you wouldn't see a thing without a flashlight.\n\"Mirkwood\" Benjamin called it.\n\nIt had been five days since it happened. First day, I thought it was all just a hoax, some kind of joke. Second day, i realised the s**t was real. Third day, Alexander called, he had a job, billionaire was sending a long-range zeppelin to look for his family, he was searching for mercenaries. By then, people knew the wood was dangerous. Obviously people had gone in at the coasts. Most quickly began to feel uncomfortable, some frightened, and turned back, not wanting to go in again. Those that went in deeper didn't return.\n\nThere was some hope that on a big ship, whatever lurked in the forest was far enough away from the passengers. You would suppose we could know that for sure, there should be folks on those boats speaking everything they see in their phones, but telecommunications took a big hit. All bottom-of-the-ocean cables had been damaged, and the sattelites couldn't possibly keep up with all that. So we were looking for some big yacht stranded in the wood, supposedly a shining white star in all the dark leaves. Sounds easy.\n\nOnly it wasn't. Two days in we were at about the last known location, with no boat to be seen. For the whole day, we flew wider and wider circles around it, scanning the horizon.\n\nIn the evening, we saw something in the distance. It was a stone. A goddamn, blank, black stone. And yet it was something beautiful. A jagged cliff peaking out above the monotonous, all-covering forest. For lack of other landmarks, we decided to go nearer and take a closer look. Who knows, maybe there would be survivors having found shelter there. And indeed, as we approached , we saw a figure standing up. He stood still, upright, on the very tip of the cliff, as we rushed in at max velocity and the engines roared to make us come to a stop twenty metres above his head. Me and Ben were chosen to be lowered down and get him up. I was excited. It wasn't the billionaires family, but it was *something*. Even better, it was a person, and a living one. And on top of that, i finally had something to *do*.\n\nWhen we touched down, the man looked at us weirdly, tilting his head a tiny bit to one side. He looked eerie. His hair was all thick black wisps and his clothes a plain, dark green, cut in the most simplistic way.\n\nWe approached him and I said \"Hello.\" No reaction. \"Hey, we're going to get you out of here.\" The guy gave me a weid feeling. I suddenly was acutely aware of how close the creepy forest was. The cliff had somehow seemed higher up from above. \n\n\"Lets just grab him and go.\" Ben commented, obviously uncomfotable as well. He started moving towards him.\n\nThe man suddenly smiled. His eyes flashed brightly.\n\n \n\n\nHe had sharp, pointed teeth.\n\n \n\n \n\nComment : First time trying to write not-so-eloquently, mimicking the character's speech. Is it allright ? Did i overdo it ? (not a native speaker either, so that makes it harder to evaluate)" ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 8, 47 ]

[ "1420915985", "1420939027", "1420952239", "1420953698", "1420936309", "1420926506", "1420919705", "1420912803", "1420915233", "1420912628" ]

[ "Another clue. How could they know? They can't know - I'm being paranoid. I mean there is nothing wrong with it and it's a harmless bit of fun. God! - it would be so embarrassing if someone found out! Why? Why does every single one of my interactions seem to be allude to the entire world's knowledge of my wickedness. Have they been watching me? Spying on me? Are there cameras in my room? Am I a prop for the world like Jim Carrey in the movie? Do the spectators find me wicked? Do they *tsk* in disapproval when they watch me during my intimate and private moments? How do others behave when they're alone? Doesn't everyone have secrets? - or, am I the only wicked one in the world? Why am I like this? I didn't choose to be, and I try my best to control, then why does it always bring me back here? Why does my obsession charge me days of guilt for mere moments of pleasure? You know what, may be they don't know. May be, it's just a great big coincidence. May be, I'm just reading into it. Fuck them, if they know. It's their fault for making me feel this way. I haven't done anything wrong. I haven't harmed anyone - I haven't *killed* anyone. I just *like* doing it.\n", "Hilda Marigold's bare feet gripped the edge of the cliff. Her eyes were erratic as she watched the ravaging waves crash against the sharp rocks many hundreds of meters below. She rolled her eyes shut, held out an open foot, and paused as she fought the growing breeze.\n\nIf this was true, if what The Old Ones said was true, then she'd be fine. She'd nothing to worry about and nothing to fear. But if they were wrong, if her union with them was all an elaborate ruse concocted by her young, imaginative mind, then this would be the end. Her life, her aspirations, her relationships with friends and family alike; all of it would vanish just as her lifeless body would vanish in the hungry mouth of the ocean.\n\nNo longer able to fight the breeze, she brought her foot back to the soil of the cliff and opened her eyes again. Her heart throbbed into her head--the steady *bu-bump bu-bump bu-bump* rivaling the continuous low hiss of the waves below. *I hope I'm not going insane*, she thought. *I hope I'm not crazy. I hope I'm not crazy.*\n\nShe mumbled the words over and over again until she stepped out and let herself plunge. And as the wind rushed beyond her ears, she opened her eyes just before hitting sharp rocks below.\n\n*Stop*\n\nImmediately, her descent halted. She hovered above a cluster of rocks with wide eyes as if resting on an invisible platform. And as the mist of the ocean sprinkled her flushed face, she began to laugh a hearty laugh that caused her chest to hurt after a short while.\n\n\"They were right!\" she shouted.\n\n----\n\n\"Where the hell have you been these last few days Hil?\" Jacob tried his best to match Hilda's speed as he navigated around other students in the hallway. \"You forget about the assignments that're due in two days or something?\"\n\nHilda wasn't completely attentive to what Jacob said. She was fixated on a new challenge that wasn't readily solvable with her abilities; the manipulation of matter. The Old Ones told her, if memory served correctly, that she could manipulate the world with naught but her imagination (there was the command that she ought to guide mankind into an era of prosperity, but that could wait). If this was true--and she had little reason to believe that it wasn't--she could, in theory, manipulate objects around her; change them in ways unique to her desires. But this absolutely could not be known by the world. She'd have to be surreptitious in all she did with her power from henceforth. \n\n\"Hello?\" asked Jacob as he tapped her on the shoulder.\n\nHilda turned and smiled before apologizing. \"I've just been dealing with a lot lately but I haven't forgotten about the assignments.\"\n\n\"Good! Because I sure as hell can't do all of this by myself! We gotta work together on this.\"\n\nHilda nodded politely, giving multiple \"uh huh\"s to keep Jacob under the impression that she was listening at all. \n\nThey each went into class and Hilda was still lost in her thoughts as she sat down in the midst of the room, so lost that she didn't notice the handful of prolonged, cautious glares that came from fellow classmates. She retrieved a notebook from her backpack and drew a diagram for the notes that she would have no intent of taking.\n\nThe chatter of the class died down almost immediately as the professor stood from his desk and remotely caused the projection screen to descend slowly in the front of the class. \n\n\"We've got a lot to cover today,\" he said as the screen finished crawling down. \"Let's get started.\"\n\nHilda hadn't paid attention to anything said by the professor since she sat down. She stared at her blue mechanical pencil and thought to change its color to something more favorable. Pink, perhaps. Or maybe green.\n\nShe imagined what it would look like, and as the image appeared into her mind, she thought to transfer it to the pencil itself. After bringing the pencil close to her so that no one would see the transition, it turned pure white for a brief moment, then a vibrant color of pink slowly crept downward just as she saw it do so in her mind. She was so satisfied with the color--studying it closely and twirling the pencil around in her fingers--that she was oblivious to the classmates to her left and right that glanced over with unmistakable terror in their eyes.\n\nThe professor paused his lecture mid-sentence and looked over to Hilda, mumbled, and resumed his lesson.\n\nThe chatter behind Hilda from various classmates was quite hushed initially, but it grew over time just enough for Hilda's ear to twitch at a particular comment.\n\n\"It's not as cool as the cliff trick though.\"\n\nHilda looked up with wide eyes and held her breath. *How* could they know that? No one was around her when that happened; she made sure of it. Her heart began to throb and she began to feel exposed in the midst of the class. She dropped the pencil, stared forward, and attempted to seem as inconspicuous as possible.\n\n*Just imagining things. Just imagining things. They can't know that. They don't know. There's no way.*\n\n\"What? What'd you say Hilda?\" said a student directly behind her.\n\nHilda stood abruptly and left the classroom before the professor could speak to her. Many more eyes followed her on her way out, followed with unmistakable keenness and caution. Whispers began to erupt after she left.\n\nHer cover was blown. \n\nShe ran to a wooded area of her campus and watched clouds of her chilled breath drift away. They could hear and see her thoughts, it was obvious, but how? \n\nHilda sealed her eyes and tried to imagine being among The Old Ones, but they never appeared like they did in times prior. Was she alone? Did they abandon her?\n\nShe stared out at the snow-covered ground and stretched out a hand, and with a thought came a breath of life into the area. The snow melted, the plants grew instantly, and there was such a comforting warmth to the air around her that she never wanted to leave. There was no stress here, no concept of guiding the billions of men women and children in whichever way she saw fit. Only peace. \n\nPerhaps she wouldn't leave.\n\n \n\n", "They couldn't know, no one could. She wasn't even convinced that she knew it herself, not entirely. It couldn't be truth. It was a half remembered dream, that happened on some rock in the middle of the ocean. Some rock that man had somehow overlooked, left untouched in all it's travels. \n\nIt was a miracle they found her there at all, hidden in the jungle that swallowed more than half the island. They spotted the wreckage a mile away, at least part of it, this led a nasty trail to the island that was her personal hell for 2 years. Of course she wasn't alone, there were two others, but they were never found. Not a single trace on the whole island, except for a wristwatch and a single strand of hair. \n\nWasn't much for food on the island, and there wasn't much for food on the ship that rescued her. The crew looked as if they hadn't seen food for days, and it wasn't far from the truth, in fact the truth was much harsher. The crew hadn't seen real food for months, and Karen wondered why the crew was so small for such a big ship. Though the crew wasn't very curious about what happened to the people who had been on the island with Karen. It doesn't take long for a Cannibal to recognize another. ", "Maggie closed her eyes and was panting as she stared at herself in the mirror. She appeared to be in a woman's bathroom that was filled with both men and women all talking at once.\n\n\" Got a light?\" A greaser straight out out of the 80s asked as he tugged on the hem of her jacket.\n\n\" Come on! I said I'd be good if you got me candy! Where is my candy!\" A seven year old bawled at her other side. \" I'm going to tell if you don't give me candy!\"\n\nMaggie Carson looked like she hadn't slept in days with bags under her eyes and pale as death. She hadn't slept for a week, because she was constantly followed and harassed by people other's couldn't see. She prayed and prayed for God to help her but so far the only response she'd gotten was silence. She'd taken off from work until today but she couldn't put it off anymore without risking her job.\n\nThe girl started to cry, \" Please. I promise. I promise. Just get me some candy.\" \n\n\" Maggie?\" Called out a young woman's voice from the background.\n\nA haggard looking man in ripped in torn clothes stood over her back, breathing down her neck. \" Give me what I want or I'll do it.\" He suddenly had a knife at her neck.\n\nMaggie rocked back into the man's embrace, whimpering softly as she wondered what she did to deserve this.\n\n\" MAGGIE! Are you okay?\" Suddenly the bathroom was empty besides Maggie and a woman in early twenties. She was wearing business attire and it took Maggie a few seconds to recognize her as the new intern that was hired in her office a few months ago.\n\n\" O-oh. Sarah. I'm s-sorry. Haven't been feeling well.\" She tried to give a reassuring smile but wasn't sure how well she pulled it off considering she'd started to dry sweat and was still breathing heavily.\n\nSarah looked at her concerned, \" Are you okay? We know you didn't want to come back yet... Do you need anything?\"\n\nMaggie shook her head quickly and pulled herself together, \" No. No I'm fine. Feeling better already.\" She said firmly, and took several deep breathes to calm herself. \" Sorry do you need to go?\" She made to move around the girl before she was blocked.\n\n\" Actually I was looking for you, Mr. Peters needs to see you.\" The woman said with an air of concern, as seeing the big boss normally wasn't good news. \" I'm supposed to take you...\" She finished awkwardly and shrugged.\n\nMaggie had a momentary flash of panic that people knew before she dismissed it. She'd only had one episode so far and that'd happened within the last minute. She pushed past the girl a little roughly and made her way out of the bathroom and strode confidently into the rows of cubicles that led towards Mr. Peter's office. She still didn't look her best, but with some renewed confidence she'd gained some color back into her face.\n\n\" I'm sorry about this you know.\" Sarah began, \" I'm just the messenger... Anyways I'm sure it will be fine.\" Maggie nodded absently as Sarah continued to talk on, looking around as they made their way across the office. When she was noticed her coworkers stopped what they were doing and looked at her a little funnily but she just blew them off.\n\nSarah stopped a few feet short of Mr. Peter's office and whispered, \" Good luck!\" And with that she was through the door and closed it quickly behind her and Mr. Peter's looked up confused.\n\nMr. Peter's had started this company almost thirty years ago and he'd been expanding it ever since. He was a good boss, but very strict and he expected a lot.\n\n\" I heard you wanted me to see me sir?\" She moved to sit in the chair in front of his desk.\n\nHe still peered at her a little confusedly, \" You sure got here quick. I only sent the email a few minutes ago.\" He shuffled his papers uncomfortably. \" So Ms. Carson... I'm here to talk to you about some unsettling matters.\" He stood up, buttoning the buttons on his jacket as he started to pace around the room.\n\n\" Unsettling matters sir?\" She gulped as her palms started to clam up, \" What kind of matters? Is it because I used all my sick and personal days at once? If so I sincerely apologize and won't let it happen again.\"\n\n\" It's kind of about that. .\" He looked nervous as he settled back in his seat, \" Well it's just we've been worried about your health for awhile. Your work has always been exemplary and I'd hope to move you up. But I've gotten many reports of muttering randomly in meetings, unfocused, and appearing distracted constantly. Is everything okay?\" \n\nShe tried to speak once but she had to swallow twice before anything would come out, \" What do you mean? Do you have any specific instances? Maybe I can shed some light...\" This couldn't be happening. She was started to feel faint as she could feel her whole world crashing around her.\n\nHe looked at a few papers on his desk before coughing, \" Well two weeks ago, you were supposed to be doing a review for some paperwork I sent you. Instead you were observed talking... well talking to no one in your office and it never got it done. I assume you were using one of those headset phones. You know we don't allow those.\" He spoke to her sternly.\n\nMaggie could barely believe it and burst out, \" That's not true sir! Me and Sarah worked on it for hours! I gave the paperwork to her to give to you. She told me the next day that you loved it. Bring her in and ask her. Her name is Sarah Bell!\" Her head was pounding and she felt like she was going to throw up.\n\nMr. Peter's looked at her severely disconcerted. \" Are you okay Ms. Carson... you look...\" He shook his head and turned to his computer and started typing, \" Sarah Bell? There is no one in the office with that name. Are you sure?\"\n\nAs he looked up from his computer, Maggie Carson passed out and fell to the floor.", "Abagail had always known something was wrong with her, but she only began to understand its nature at the age of ten, during her first successful escape. They had kept her in the hospital for as long as she could remember, but one day they left her in the playroom unattended and she decided the grass outside the window looked too green, the flowers looked too colorful. She had to explore. She had to see what it was like outside the walls. \n\n\nOn that day she went down the stairwell and exited via a side door. The bright blue sky and the grass under her feet were almost too much. It filled her with excitement, bordering on panic. The openness of the world overwhelmed her. She began wandering towards a distant cluster of buildings. Up until that point she believed that she was very sick, although the doctors never said exactly what plagued her, only that she had to stay in the hospital. \n\nShe crept along the ranks of bushes and fences until she heard a sound just outside her field of vision. A sound she recognized from the movies they played for her, from the books that lined her bedside table. The sound of a barking dog. \n\nShe peered through the bushes and saw it, running back and forth, yipping at her from the end of a long leash pegged to the ground. It was so small. A puppy, no more than a few months old. It melted her heart. Of all the things she dreamed for herself, for the day they finally let her out, a dog was always part of the equation. She approached it. The dog’s tongue hung out of its mouth, which meant it was hot, and its tail was wagging, which meant it was happy. She knelt and pet it. \n\nSomething bad happened. The dog made a sound like it was choking. The lights of its eyes went out. It slumped back and toppled over. \n\nAn hour later, when the soldiers and police officers in their hazmat suits arrived, they found her crying and petting the corpse of the puppy. They injected her and carried her unconscious body back to the hospital. The hospital where there she was the only patient. \n\nAfter that she never went anywhere without a nurse following her. A nurse with gloves and a mask over his face. She knew that she killed the dog even though she never meant to. She just wanted to love the dog. She hoped they would never find out that she killed it. They would never let her out if they did. She was sick, and she had made the dog sick. The sickness spread whether she wanted it to or not. \n\nBut Dr. Thomas never seemed to notice. Abagail always told him that she was feeling better, that she could go outside now. He always smiled and said soon. \n\nOne day she overheard Dr. Thomas and the woman who sometimes stopped by.\n\n“Preposterous,” Dr. Thomas had said. “Utterly ludicrous. This is a little girl we’re talking about her. A little girl. How could you even consider it?”\n\n“Little girl? What little girl looks like *that*? She’s a weapon. What about the incident last summer? All aspects of the project have been wrapped up and shut down besides this. Having something like this around makes us all very nervous. We want to decommission this whole thing and wipe it out. It failed, and there’s no hope for her. It would be a mercy.”\n\nThese things scared Abagail. Their voices grew harsher and more difficult to discern after this, but she felt that she had uncovered a second piece to her own puzzle. They kept her locked up because they thought she was sick. She needed to convince them that she was better. She took the medicine every day and she did whatever Dr. Thomas told her. She begged to go home, wherever that was. \n\nShe learned more about her sickness on the day she touched a nurse. Normally they told her everyone needed gloves and masks around her so that others didn’t get sick. But one day, operating on a moment of pure impulse, she reached up and grabbed a nurse who was changing the sheets in her bed. She grabbed the man’s wrist. Her hand touched a gap in between his glove and his sleeve. The same thing that happened to the dog happened to the nurse. He staggered a few steps and keeled over. \n\nLater, after they carted the body away, Abagail asked what happened to the man. \n\nDr. Thomas smiled weakly. “Will had a heart attack. He was a sick man.”\n\n“Sick like me?” she asked.\n\n“No, not sick like you,” he said. \n\nShe knew he was lying. After that she knew everyone was lying. By the time she was reaching puberty she had tried to escape six more times. She learned that everyone became very afraid of her when she got angry and peeled the gloves off her hands. She liked the feeling it gave her, making others scared. They had been making her scared her whole life. Why couldn’t she be a normal girl? Why couldn’t she have any friends? The nurses who came and read her stories weren’t her friends. Dr. Thomas wasn’t her friend. The lady in the suit who came to argue with Dr. Thomas was certainly not her friend either. \n\nShe over heard them several more times.\n\n“That’s it,” the lady said. “This is the end. We gave you a long time to try to work something out, Doctor, but its over.”\n\nAbagail crouched and put her ear to the door to her room, now locked around the clock. \n\nDr. Thomas sighed. “You’re right. I don’t know what we could do at this point. I admit, I failed.”\n\n“I’m told she’s experiencing anti-social behavior.”\n\n“Do you have any kids?” Dr. Thomas asked.\n\nThe woman half-laughed, half-coughed. “No. The idea never appealed to me much.”\n\n“Well I can assure this is normal behavior for an early adolescent person. She needs to either get out or we need to reform this. She can’t go on like this anymore. Somethings got to give.”\n\n“Well obviously she’s not going anywhere,” the woman said. \n\nAbagail cried that night. She looked at herself in the bathroom. She wondered why she was so ugly, why she was so sick, why she could destroy things so easily. She hated Dr. Thomas. She hated the nurses. She hated the woman. She hated the flowers they brought to her room. She liked touching them and watching them wilt before her eyes. \n\nOne day a new nurse showed up. At the end of the night the nurse put Abagail into bed and went to lock the door. Abagail jumped out of bed, as if to ask a question. The nurse hesitated. Abagail stuttered something about being scared as she walked closer. The nurse knelt down, sympathy in her eyes. Abagail got within arms reach and grabbed her, tearing the mask from her face. The nurse crumbled and died, the door wide open.\n\nAbagail went for a little walk down the hall. She found Dr. Thomas’s office, Thomas himself behind the desk, frowning over some paperwork. She gently nudged the door open. \n\nDr. Thomas looked up. His eyes went wide. \n\n“Abagail, what are you doing? It’s past your bedtime. You need to get your rest.”\n\n“The nurse had a heart attack,” she said. \n\nThe doctor’s eyes went wider still. Abagail moved closer. \n\n“Oh no,” he whispered. \n\n*Bullshitter,* she thought. She had learned that word during her last escape. She heard a policeman say it, and she knew what it meant. She moved closer still. The doctor shot up out of his chair and took a step backwards. \n\n“Uh, Abagail…. Now, you know you’re very sick… I, uh, don’t have my gloves on.” He pushed himself back to the far corner, in between the filing cabinet and window. \n\nShe was only a few feet away now. \n\n“If I touch you,” she said. “Will you have a heart attack?” She just wanted to see him try to respond.\n\n“I, uh…” his voice was barely audible, below even a whisper. “I have a weak heart.”\n\nShe grabbed is hand. She groped his face. The man sunk against the wall. His skin went white before her eyes. After that she poked her head out and checked out hallways. No one was around. No one knew she had escaped. She decided it was time to check herself out. \n\nShe might not have been like other girls. Other girls didn’t have fifty six jagged teeth, or a few half stumps where third and fourth arms had failed to grow. Their organs hadn’t been cooked by radiation, condemning her to death by the age of twenty anyways. They had ears and eyelids. They had families. But it was okay now. No she was going to make all of that right. If she deserved to be sick then so did everyone.\n", "Cindi Hill walked down the street. There was no wind, yet she still walked with her head and eyes down. She looked up with quick glances and picked up her pace.\n\n“Cindi? Cindi, is that you?” called out a man. \n\nWith eyes darting around Cindi found the source of greeting. “Hi, Greg,” she said. “Can’t stop and talk. Gotta go.” She continued her brisk pace.\n\nGreg looked puzzled. “Okay, Cindi. I’ll talk to you later.” A look of disgust crossed his face as Cindi continued walking away.\n\nCindi glanced over her shoulder at Greg. He grimaced and continued on his way. Cindi sighed and stopped at the intersection. She lived just across the street. Almost home.\n\nThe traffic light seemed to take forever to change. Cindi tapped her toes and looked around her surrounding area. A panhandler rattled a cup full of change as he walked up to her.\n\n“Spare some change, miss,” the panhandler asked.\n\nCindi looked at the traffic signal. “No. No. I don’t have any cash on me.”\n\nThe panhandler pushed his cup closer to her. “Anything you’ve got.”\n\nThe traffic light turned red and the signal indicated Cindi could cross. “Sorry. Nothing to give.” She hurried across the street as fast as she could.\n\nThe panhandler scowled. He backed away from where Cindi had stood. He crinkled his nose up and took off.\n\nCindi had trouble getting into her building because she couldn’t find her keys. The doorman let her in, smiled then coughed as Cindi walked by him. She punched the elevator buttons as hard as she could. A hand snaked through the elevator door just before it closed, opening the doors once more and letting on Cindi’s neighbor.\n\n“Hi, Cindi,” the neighbor said. “How are you doing today?”\n\nCindi bounced back and forth on the balls of her feet. She couldn’t take it anymore. “Fine. Fine,” she said. \n\nThe neighbor shook her head at the rudeness. “Great. Good to hear.”\n\nWhen the elevator doors opened Cindi took off. The neighbor gagged and dry wretched as Cindi galloped down the hallway. Close. So close.\n\nCindi tried to find her house key among all the other keys. Cindi powerwalked down the hall. She felt something fall. \n\nOh God. \n\nCindi realized that Greg knew. The panhandler knew. The doorman knew. Her neighbor knew. Farts had been slapping out since she left the restaurant. If Cindi had picked up the smell of putrid takeout bubbling and broiling in her innards then everyone else had and now it had come to a head. \n\nDiarrhea. \n", "As the weeks passed, people around her slowly started treating her differently. They would look away when she caught them looking. They would ask if she was okay. They would tell her jokes to cheer her up. They would compliment her.\n\nNot everyone was like that, of course. Some would sneer at her, and some would whisper as she passed. Some would drop comments just barely loud enough for her to hear.\n\nTeachers would take her aside and ask questions. Her parents had a worried look when they thought she didn't see.\n\nShe realized there were rumors at school, among the students and teachers. She realized her parents knew.\n\nAnd she added yet another cut to the neat row on her arm.", "Three years ago, Dorothy killed her brother. It was an accident of course, but it had happened. She had only received her driver's license recently, and so when she tried to make that sharp turn at the intersection while speeding - well, she hit another car. \n\nAnd not just any car. The small car that her brother was using to come home from college for Christmas. She had sped away, and on that dark rainy night not a single person was able to identify the car that killed her brother. Nobody knew. Nobody in her world, anyway.\n\nAt the time, Dorothy didn't even know she had killed her brother. She only made the connection later when after driving home, the police came to their door. Her parents were sobbing. Dorothy knew that they could never know.\n\nSo she walked with this secret through the remainder of her final two years in high school. She passed classes and just barely made it through life - just barely, because she was comfortable that at least nobody knew. She felt guilty, sure. But not a kind of guilt that would cause her to admit it. \n\nRather, she lived in fear that someone would find out.\n\nAnd now someone has.\n\nDorothy screamed at me as she stood at the bus stop.\n\n\"I hear your voice! Who are you? Who are you telling? Am I crazy?\"\n\nI responded as honestly as I knew how.\n\n\"Well, I'm your narrator. I'm not quite sure how you were able to hear me. My best guess is that you are so traumatized by this secret you hold that you have sort of sixth sense about it being revealed.\"\n\n\"But who are you revealing it to?\"\n\nShe was sobbing. I responded again, quietly.\n\n\"Well, I'm telling your story. People are reading this right now. Some of them are affected by it, some aren't. Some are intrigued and want to know more details, while others are bored with my style of narration already.\"\n\n\"But now they all know what I did!\"\n\n\"Well, yes, I suppose they do. But they will never meet you, and you will never meet them. So why do you care? It's still a secret.\"\n\n\"No, it isn't!\" Two years of guilt and despair were pouring out through Dorothy's eyes. \"I might never meet these people - these readers - but they know what I did. And they will judge me for it. They will judge me for driving away from the accident. They will judge me for never telling anyone. They will judge me for not being so overcome with guilt that I have to tell someone.\"\n\n\"Well, Dorothy, it's within each reader's freedom to...\"\n\n\"Bullshit. They haven't been in this situation. They don't understand what I am going through. But they will judge my story the way they judge anyone.\"\n\n\"I think you're making assumptions about these readers that aren't entirely...\"\n\n\"Are you kidding me? Of course they will. Readers will judge knights in shining armor, wizards in different realities, space pilots in faraway galaxies - all despite never having lived a life that even comes close to those characters. Are you kidding? They will find it *easy* to judge me, someone living in a world that resembles their own.\"\n\n\"Well why...\"\n\n\"Be quiet. I don't know where you are, or who you are, but you violated me. You took my secret and revealed it to the world. You should be ashamed of yourself even more than these readers.\"\n\nAfter hearing these loud exclamations from Dorothy, I decided to instead shift focus to the implications of\n\n\"No. Stop now. Don't just stop talking to me. Stop narrating. You don't have the privilege of saying another word. That's reserved for me. This is my life. So leave it.\"" ]

[ 1, 2, 2, 3, 9, 13, 13, 68 ]

[ "1420989857", "1420937245", "1420953143", "1420941303", "1420938321", "1420936670", "1420937248", "1420936483" ]

[ "**\"Don't do it! Just don't okay!\"**\n\n\n\"Why not? What will happen?\"\n\n\n**\"You'll go away. Everyone does.\"**\n\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\n**\"I said you'll go away! You'll vanish! Do you want to vanish and leave me?!\"**\n\n\n\"...No..but..why can't I look!!\"\n\n\n**\"He's watching me. That's why.\"**\n\n\n\"Who?\"\n\n\n**\"If I tell you his name you'll look up..\"**\n\n\n\"Just tell me okay, I promise I won't. I cross my heart and promise!\"\n\n\n**\"...Are you sure?\"**\n\n\n\"Yup! I'm your friend, and friends don't lie to each other.\"\n\n\n**\"His name is...Kingfisher.\"**\n\n\n**\"...\"**\n\n\n**\".....\"**\n\n\n**\".......Hello? I said his name is Kingfisher.\"**\n\n\n**\"..\"**\n\n\n**\"...You.... You promised me you wouldn't look up..but you did anyways and now you're gone, like everyone else...\"**\n\n\n**\"I hate you! I hate you! I HATE YOU!!! YOU PROMISED ME! YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T LOOK UP IF I TOLD YOU HIS NAME! YOU PROMISED! YOU CROSSED YOUR HEART!\"**\n\n\n**\". . . . . . . . . .\"**\n", "\"Whatever you do, don't look up!\" said the people having an orgy in a glass-bottom pool directly above me.", "\"Whatever you do, don't look up\", the demon told me. His tail whipped me in the left arm and I looked right, to the - I assume - millions of people shoving and running like a stampede, every now and again a scream, horrible and echoing, reached my ears.\n\nWas this really hell? Despite what the demon said, I tried to look up and couldn't. Looked to the people running, both ways, I could only move my neck right and left, and my legs, not my arms. Everywhere I looked, people running in a determined path, millions of them, nonstop, some rugged faces appearing, some bearded and dirty, some bloody, of all colors. Every couple minutes some space, a demon controlling the way people stampeded with a 40-ft spiked pole, but once again people everywhere. \n\n\"I don't get it.\" I looked at the mid-section of the demon, the only part I could see. \"Why can't I look up? What am I supposed to do?\"\n\n\"That's all, buddy\", the demon said. He didn't sound threatening or angry, just casual, human-voiced. \"You are going to join your people, running, until the end of time, until there is no heaven and no hell. And you run. If you stop, you you'll be stampeded down for eternity, if you look up, you'll regret it. Good luck.\"\n\nSuddenly my neck felt unlocked and my arms could move. I tried not to look up, but looked down at the ground where people were running. Burning sand and normal sand separated the running track and the path where the demons walked. Everywhere I looked there were people moaning and being stepped on. They seemed to be somewhat alive, eyes darted at me, like their skulls couldn't be broken but everything else could. Feet and panic everywhere. Screams. A little chill ran up my spine.\n\n\"What happens if I get tired?\" my mind was instantly in my fifty extra pounds.\n\n\"You can't fall, you can't die, you'll get tired. After the first two years or so you shouldn't even feel yourself running. If you get so far. Talk to your people, you are allowed to do anything, as long as you don't look up.\"\n\n\"What happens if I look up?\"\n\nI couldn't see the demon's face, but the way his voice sounded was as if he had a broad smile. \n\n\"Remember: whatever you do, don't look up\" and with his spiked pole, he pushed me into the cursed runners.\n\nI started running for my life, but people gave me some space and I quickly adjusted. I tried to keep up and suddenly I was already surrounded by people. But soon I was tired. Fuck.\n\nMy mind started going places and despair started to take over. I tried breathing and breathing and could gain a couple more minutes. I looked right and left. Someone held my elbow and helped me run. I heard voices screaming \"breathe man, breathe!\" behind me and looked at the man holding me while I kept my elbows in people ahead of me and kept being pushed by people behind me. How could I go for eternity like this?\n\n\"Just run, just keep running\", he said, but his voice was muffled by a scream nearby. Even though I couldn't feel my legs anymore and my lungs were about to burst, something was dragging me along, as if the crowd took over when all I could do was try not to stop. \"That's right, that's right, you'll get the hang of it, just keep running, no matter what, just keep running and don't look up.\"\n\nToo tired to talk, I just ran. And ran. And ran. My legs felt numb, but I kept running. And ran. My lungs hurt, my whole body screamed for me to stop, but I ran. Well... I guess this IS hell after all. I get the idea. Heaving and crying I ran.\n\nAnd ran. And ran.\n\n\"What is up there?\" I asked, a couple weeks later, to Adam, the man who helped me in my first day.\n\n\"We are not supposed to know. Nobody that is running ever looked up.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"You look up, you go up. That's how it works.\"\n\n\"Up into heaven?\"\n\n\"Up into something alright\" someone growled by my left. I looked at Guillermo, the south-american guy by my right. \"But we're pretty sure it's not heaven.\"\n\nI didn't say anything, just ducked slightly the demon pole that tried to struck us to go faster.\n\n\"Well it can't be worse than this man\" I complained, like I did many times. \"I get that you get used to this, but it's still fucking excruciating.\"\n\n\"Just trust us\", said Guillermo, ending the conversation.\n\nDays gone by, I ran. Months, a year, and I was always tired. It does get that much better, but it was hell, and it felt like hell every second of it. Guillermo and Adam were gone in a couple of months, taken up. It's very easy to take an accidental glance and be taken. Happens all the time. \n\nA couple days after I completed 18 months a young woman was tossed into the runners by my left. I grabbed her arm and helped her keep up. She easily adjusted, she was thin and athletic. She seemed terrified.\n\n\"I don't get it, I'm not supposed to be here\" she started saying out loud, to herself.\n\n\"Just keep running, lady, you'll eventually figure it out.\"\n\n\"YOU DON'T GET IT, I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE\" she screamed looking at me with increasing despair. I can see a little insanity in her tone, we always get those that are too dazzled to understand a single thing the demon says.\n\n\"Just keep running, okay? Keep calm and don't look up.\" I said, looking forward and thinking about going on my own business.\n\n\"What's up?\" she said, confused and starting to look up.\n\nEvery neighbour and close by person dashed away from her, I darted towards her as fast as I could and tried to stop her, tried to put her head down.\n\n\"KEEP YOUR HEAD DOWN\" I screamed, while she gazed with terror up, already being pulled up and while I still grabbed her arm. I followed her with my eyes on pure instinct, she was pulled up from my sight in a second and it was too late for me. I could see it, and I knew then I was done.\n\nAn abominable stomach that filled the entire ceiling at the very top of the massive pit that is hell. \nPustules twisted yellow and nasty, hundreds of long dark and thin arms darting down and up picking people up and throwing them up its stomach/mouth, that with quick rows of teeth and a deadly dark cloud of stink rotted their flesh.\n\nI could see it, and I felt one of the arms grab me by my waist and bring me up top with a quick movement. It got closer to me, every meter getting even more horrible and terrifying. The stomach had eyes, and teeth and legs going out of it, heads looked at me from millions of faces encrusted in the stomach, rotting and bubbling with decay.\n\nIt threw me into the stomach, one of the rows of teeth ripping me in half and swallowing me. I was dragged feeling my flesh burn and twist, my bones break and my eyes melt in my face. I could feel the slippery throat, and then a fall and I fell heat burning all of me, as hot as the sun. Voices screaming. I felt bodies upon bodies emanating pure fire, charcoal of live consciences suffering in the gut of hell, for the eternity of time, until the end of heaven and hell, burning and forevermore, and I could only think that \"whatever you do, don't look up\" could only be considered an understatement.", "The shrill sound of metal talons scraping pavement and then another person was scooped up into the sky. Yet another life taken into the death grip of a giant mechanical dragon. Jason had seen this many times, but the thing that shook him most is that the woman had not even screamed as she was taken. Her ravaged and dirty face had almost looked peaceful prior to the dragon crushing her bones. Jason came to the realization that she had *wanted* to die. It was hard for him to accept that, but he could almost understand it. \n\nThe robotic dragons had been roaming the skies for 10 years now. Nobody knew where they came from or why they were even here. Within the first year the dragons had decimated all of the world's armies and defeated all military force. Their numbers seemed to increase and multiply and humanity was picked off one by one. During the day, their metallic wings gleamed in the sky as they flew. At night, their eyes shone brightly from a fire that burned within their steel bellies. \n\nJason looked to Timmy who was now gripping a 9mm pistol. The gun wasn't meant for the indestructible dragons, but instead to protect against their human enemies. With food supplies limited and no law to rule the land, people had soon turned on each other. Timmy was only 8 years old and had never known a world that existed without fear. It made Jason sad to think of that and he had to look away before a tear might betray his cool exterior. \n\n\"That woman who died just now…,\" the child looked down to a photograph he held in his other hand, \"she kinda looked like my mom.\" \n\nJason knew that Timmy had never known his mother except for that photograph. \n\n\"Your mother was prettier,\" Jason said. He put a hand on the child's shoulder for a moment before turning and walking back to the window. \"We've got to get over to that supermarket before it gets dark. The gangs will be out soon and we need to find shelter.\"\n\nThey started to gather the few things they owned and stuffed it all into a trash bag. Jason carried the bag over his shoulder as they walked toward the door. He got down on one knee and peered into the boy's eyes. \n\n\"When we get out there, you run fast. I'll be right beside you.\" \n\n\"Mm-kay,\" said the boy.\n\n\"And remember….,\" Jason started to say before the boy interrupted.\n\n\"Whatever you do, don't look up.\"", "Well, I guess that was it. Nuclear war. It ended as quick as it started. I counted three hours. That's one for the history books in 200 years. I holed up in the sewer with a construction worker. He let me have a spare pair gas mask. They were working on some crazy leak and he considered the smell to be worse than the toxic fumes. It still smelled pretty damn bad.\n\nWe waited mostly in silence. Whenever it got quiet topside, one of us would ask, \"Is it over?\" It seemed like it never was gonna be over. Then one time after he asked, I let my watch tick to five minutes later. After three hours of nukes booming, and buildings crumbling, and five minutes of silence, I said I was going up.\n\nI went up the ladder, moved the manhole aside, and climbed up. It was pretty much as I expected. Burned bodies, ash, crashed cars, crumbled buildings, and everything that used to be -- all smashed together in some cosmic collision. Like when a little boy throws all his building blocks and toy cars together.\n\nI found a cop car. The driver had a loaded pistol, so I took that, and his equipment. Handcuffs, ammo, taser, pepper spray... I just took his belt after I saw all the crap he carried. Then his hat. Fuck it, I just took his whole damn uniform. Nametag, too. I guess I was Jim Goods instead of Jim Daves for as long as I could keep this nametag to stick onto this shirt.\n\nI must not have been paying attention, because I suddenly heard that construction worker crying. Never even got his name.\n\nI went back down. He must've knew my face, 'cause he didn't even move when he saw me in my cop outfit. \"Hey, I never got your name,\" I said when I jumped down from the ladder.\n\n\"Lester Davis,\" he said. \n\nThese gas masks weren't very easy to speak in. \"My name's Jim,\" I said gently. Damn, just like in the movies. \"Jim Goods.\" *That was too easy. I just took this guy's identity. Something's wrong with me.*\n\n\"Jim, I can't see.\"\n\n\"That's alright. Well, we're going up anyway. Cover your eyes and grab onto me.\" I pulled him up by his hands and guided him to the ladder. \"Climb up, cover your eyes. I'll be up in a second.\"\n\nAfter he climbed up, I did too. \"Hey, Lester. Whatever you do, don't look up. Where we gonna go? Morrie Street?\"\n\n\"My construction company has an office. It's got a bunch of underground stuff, they all musta hid down there.\"\n\n\"Yeah, that's a good idea. Where's that at?\"\n\n\"O Street.\"\n\nWe walked through the city. More like... climbed. So much rubble. Dead people. So much shit. I tripped over a stroller. I was gonna see if the baby was okay, but I landed on the goddamn thing. Then I threw up. Then we kept walking.\n\nI didn't keep track of how long it took. **GLY Construction** was just up ahead. The building was mostly intact, unlike the buildings next to it. I hope the basement didn't collapse in on itself.\n\nI pushed open the double-doors -- the glass was blown out of them -- and looked inside. Nobody. No dead bodies, which must've been a good sign. I looked towards Lester. \"Lester, you can take the mask off.\" We both took our masks off and took a breath of... well, the air wasn't fresh, but it was fresher than that sewer. \"Didn't I tell you not to look up?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Lester said. \"But I said I can't see. I looked at it.\"\n\n\"Looked at what?\"\n\n\"The flash. From the bombs... I ain't never gonna see again...\"\n\nI looked at his eyes, and they were in some weird direction. Like the muscles were fried, too. \"Well, Lester, we'll be fine together. Ain't it funny? A white-collar worker and a blue-collar worker.\" My collar wasn't white anymore. Now my whole body was. Just covered in ash. It was like September 11th. Except this time the ambulances were still in the hospitals, and all the cops were dead. The firefighters didn't die in a blaze of heroism, they just flat-out died.\n\n\"C'mon, Lester. Let's find some of your co-workers.\"", "You'd think that after the first relationship ending, you learn to become hardened to it. You'd experience what it's like to have your heart savagely ripped your chest and cast away, and you'll heal from it and become stronger. That strength is what's supposed to keep you from falling apart the next time it happens.\n\nYeah, right.\n\nMike rubs my back as rain crashes down from the sky, thunder cracking in the distance. All the lights are out, and we've only a candle to give us visibility in my room. Knees pulled to my chest, I stare at the wall, hoping to become so enchanted by the shadows that the dullness in my heart fades away, but it won't.\n\n\"Kayla...come on, it's been two months already.\"\n\nI shift in my spot on the bed. \"It's been a really *long* two months, Mikey.\"\n\n\"Yeah, you've told me a hundred times already, but if you're going to sulk without trying to get better, I don't-\"\n\n\"I *have* been trying, okay?\" My voice is hoarse, though I'm grateful it's chosen not to crack or waver. I've already done enough crying for one day.\n\n\"For the past week, all we've done when you ask me to hang out is just sit in here, watch a movie or something, and then I listen while you cry and bitch about Jason.\"\n\n\"Well, if that's such a problem for you, then leave.\" Mike's a great friend, but he can be such a dick sometimes.\n\nHis hand moves from my back to the top of my head, his fingers gliding through my hair and grazing the top of my head. It's comforting; he's always been really good at head massages, and it's making me feel a little better.\n\n\"You know I wouldn't leave you right now, dumbass. I don't have an umbrella.\" That incredibly snarky smirk of his accompanied his chuckle, his hand ruffling my hair more aggressively. \"And anyway, I'm not gonna leave you alone while you're upset. Besides, we both know you hate being alone during thunderstorms.\"\n\nA loud crack from outside makes my body tense up. I wrap my arms around my legs, nestling my chin on my knees. He's right and we both know it. I'm just an emotional wreck; these days, I can't tell what I want half the time.\n\n\"Am I really being that annoying?\"\n\nHis head massage turns into him caressing my hair with his fingers. \"I just hate seeing you so bummed out. Jason was a douche from the get-go, and I tried telling you sooner so you wouldn't end up so beat up about it. It's not fair for you to waste your heartache on a guy who doesn't deserve it.\"\n\nHe then takes my hand and pulls me towards him on the bed. He wraps an arm around my waist, my body twisting until my chest is against his and my forehead is level with his chin. I look up at him, confused by his actions as he grins at me.\n\nA sudden, louder boom reverberates outside and I flinch in response. His grin turns warm as his fee hand moves to the side of my face, his palm on my cheek as his fingers wrap around my ear.\n\n\"So here's the plan, Kayla. I know you're probably sick of crying, but right now, you're gonna let it all out. You're gonna think about what a jerk Jason is, and you're gonna cry it all out, and you're gonna let the thunderstorm deafen us both so you can be as loud as you want, and then tomorrow you and I are gonna go bowling because we haven't gone in ages and you still haven't beaten me.\"\n\nA choked up chuckle escapes me as I register his words. I changed my mind, he's an asshole again. Fresh tears are already building up on my eyes as I start thinking about what he said. He smiles at me, then pulls my face into his neck.\n\n\"Just cry, Kayla. Let it all out. And whatever you do, don't look up.\"\n\n**xxxxx**\n\n(Been a while since I've written, so this is my go at it for the first time in a while. Hopin' to improve as I write more.)", "Am i going to die here? How did it even end up like this?!\n\nI laying in my couch like usual watching anime on Webflix. I had just finished my episode of SOA and decided to scan threw reddit for a while, when suddenly my stomach began to roar. \"hmm i'm hungry, but i don't feel like driving to Wally-Mart. I'll just walk over to the gas station\"\n\nI put on a sweater and walked out of my apartment, my breath was as visible as smoke, snow coated the surrounding area like a blanket. I actually liked the cold, because i could always just snuggle up to a blanket and warm up. Which reminds me...I don't have a girl friend or anything to snuggle up with. \n\n\"Maaan, what a pain. I should've gotten groceries before coming home.\"\nI started walking over to the crosswalk while pulling my hood over my head. While i enter the gas station i noticed a suspicious looking man. I could tell he was a junkie by his appearance and the way he was just talking to himself \"I can do this! i can do this motherf*****.\" \n\nI ignored him since he wasn't bothering me, I greeted the clerk and continued on to the back to seek something to satisfy my hunger, maybe a slice of pizza or something? \n\"EEEAAAAHHH! HELP!\" A scream came behind me as i spun back to the clerk. The junkie, he was behind the counter pointing a gun at her\n\"Dammit what the hell?! are you F***ing kidding me?! i just wanted something to eat, why did this have to happen??\" maybe if i just duck down here I'll be good right? Yeah I'm sure the cops will come, she'll be fine \n\"Hurry up or I'll F***ing kill you!\"\n\"No, please no. Help me kid, help!\"\nThe junkie began to looked around in a panic.\nOh my god, This B**** what does she think she's doing calling me for help? what the hell am i suppose to do? I'm just some regular 20 year old boy, Why can't she just comply with him and leave me out of it!?\n\n\"Who the hell is there! Come out or I'll kill this woman!\" He swung around his gun back and forth. \"Please come out! please i have a family!\"\nDamn it what do i care? Shit, at this rate he might kill her and then come after me! i have no choice dammit. Come on David, you've seen enough movies to help you out of this. I took a deep breath in, took a candy bar and raise my hands up \"I..I'm here, please don't shoot\"\n\n\"Get over here! Get over here motherf******, don't you be thinking of calling the cops or i'll kill ye both!\"\nMy heart was pounding out of my chest, i could feel my blood flowing threw my veins like flooded river. Strange thou i couldn't help but to smile, it felt so good how the adrenaline was flowing threw my body. Wait a second, i feel like a can do this, i feel invisible.\n\n\"Umm, sir?\"\n\"What? what? what is it? you lookin at me funny?\"\nDamn this guy if completely out of it, this might work.\n\"Sir, whatever you do...Don't look up\"\nhe got startled and panicked and begin looking up \"What?! whats there?!\"\nTime slowed down, \"This is my chance\" I clinched the candy bar in my hand. With all my might, all my focus was put into this single motion of swinging my arm at one direction. I felt the fibers in my shoulder tearing as i flung the candy bar as hard as i possibly could at the assailants face. SMACK! \"AAAH my F***en FACE!!\" \n\nI jolted forward and attacked. I struggled and wrestled him, but he some kind of super strength, i tried to take the gun from him as we grappled all over the floor BANG BANG, a shocked look on the man's face, as if he'd come back home to find his wife cheating on him with another man. He looked down as his hand as it had a gaping hole in it \"AAAH ma F****en hand!! damn damn damn\" he busted open the doors and ran outside into the night, police sirens sounded in the distance. \n\nHell yeah! i did it, i actually did it. I got back up with a grin in my face, when it hit me. As if Mohammad Ali just gave me his strongest punch directly to my stomach. I looked down, blood ran down my shirt \"Shit\"\nCollapsing to the floor the pain was immense, I felt as if a bunch of tiny demons were ripping away at my inside. The clerk screamed \"AAH, I'll call an ambulance! oh ma god! are you okay?!\"\n\n\"Am i okay?! B**** this is all your fault! why the hell did you call out to me! Dammit, dammit!\" then to pain began to fade away and my mind began to calm \n\"Well shit, at least i saved someone life i suppose...I never did get to see the ending of SOA, I suppose mom was right when she said late night cravings are dangerous...am i really going to die like this?\"\n", "“Keep moving, Stella.”\nHer head throbbed, the stench was crippling, and the bullet lodged in her thigh shot out dull waves of pain on every stride. She would have collapsed long ago, yielding to the thinning oxygen and loss of blood, if not for Carmen, holding her up and ushering her through the seemingly endless hallways.\n“We're not far, Stella, just stay with me, we're getting out of here.”\nOne arm was slung over Carmen's shoulder, the other clung, weakly, to the pistol at her side.\nShe was in Hawaii, on the beach. What a beautiful day!\nA shake from Carmen brought her back to the hallway, back to the stench. What's Hawaii?\nThey passed under another bulkhead, stepped gingerly over a slain trooper.\nThe sand was warm, the smell of the salt air was heavenly.\nShe was vomiting onto the cold, steel grating, while Carmen held her up. The dull, red emergency light pulsed lazily overhead, sending macabre shadows against the far wall.\nThey were walking again, but Carmen kept stopping, listening? Where were they?\nShe heard a gull crying overhead, heard the rhythmic lapping of the waves.\nHer face hurt. Carmen was hauling her off the floor. Had she fallen? What's a gull?\n“Not that much farther, Stella, the shuttle bay is right around the corner. Stella?” Carmen sounded far away, so far away.\nThere was a door, blood-spattered, scorched. Carmen had propped her up against the wall and was working on a control pad nearby. She felt a blast of air, and the door slid open. A corpse fell through, it's shattered helmet landing inches from where Stella lay, but she was too weak to notice.\nA man was walking up the beach, framed by the setting sun. He was waving, calling her name.\n“Stella” Carmen whispered, “Don't look up”.\nThey were passing through a large hangar, with only the weak hazard lights to guide their way. They passed a blasted transport, and bodies. So many bodies. \nA drop of blood landed on her visor, then another. Carmen wretched.\n“Stella baby, don't look, just keep walking, I can see the shuttle.”\nHe walked up the beach, sat down next to her, ran his fingers through her hair The sand was so warm.\nShe collapsed in the shuttle, and Carmen rushed to the cockpit. “Stella! Stay with me, baby, we're getting you outta here!”\nTheir fingers entwined, the surf lapped around their feet. He whispered in her ear.\nThe shuttle rocketed out the hangar door, dipping low to avoid the floating, blasted wreck of a Federation Corvette.\n“Stella, stay with me!”\n“Stella!”\n“Ste....”\nThe sun was setting as the waves overtook the pair.", "I felt the dripping again. I wasn't going to look up. I already knew what was up there, but as I thought about it, I felt my head tipping back.\n\n“Oh God! Oh my Goooooooood!”\n\nThe others in the county jail burst in to histerical including my cellmate. \n\n“Damn, give it to him Tyrone,” joked one of them.\n\n“The motherfucka woke me up,” Tyrone said, “Yeah yeah, he was fallin in love, you was fallin asleep, right?” the other guy laughed drunkenly.\n\n“You feel safe behind those bars?” Tyrone asked the man. He was in the neighboring cell peering through at us, “well, that's all right. Someday you'll get out, and someday I'll get out, then we gonna see how funny you are.” His voice was calm which somehow was more intimmidating than an outburst of rage. Maybe it was the look of death in his eyes.\n\nIn the morning, my lawyer came to see me in the hospital. I only needed some stiches and a splint for my broken nose, but they kept me. “You got an evaluation comin,” said the nurse, a masculine woman of few words who took my blood and left quickly.\n\nTyrone had sat quietly until I tried to offer some apology, “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get you,” the outburst that hadn't come out before broke the surface then, and here I was.\n\nWhen my lawyer showed-up, he explained why I was still in the hospital. “The prosecutor wants to have you evaluated for some kind of mental illness. You Keep saying you're Ned Millhouse, and we all know that isn't true, but I guess they've finally come to the conclusion that you and the other three people with you all have the same mental condition and that it caused all of you to have the same dallusions at the same time.”\n“You don't sound convinced,” I said.\n\n“I'm not,” said my lawyer, frustrated, “I can't help you if you won't at least tell me your real name. Yes, you look like Ned Millhouse, but you aren't him. He's dead. Look, if they pressured you in to it, I can get you a really good deal, especially if you'll testify.”\n“I didn't do anything,” I re-iterated for the umpteenth time.\n\n“Okay, maybe they did it, and you were just hanging out with them. You guys did call nine one one afterward, so you could always say you weren't complicit. Since you didn't just walk away and leave those people there, you may not even be charged with murder. There's manslaughter, wreckless endangerment, I mean, you seem like a nice kid. The prosecutor's a good guy. He's really fair. I think he'll give you a good deal, but you have to come off this whole I'm Ned Millhouse thing, okay?”\n\nHe finally left me alone, and a doctor came in later with a notepad. He took me to an office and asked me to sit on the traditional therapist's couch before turning on a tape recorder and reciting the date, the time, and what would be recorded. He had me say and spell my name, then we began.\n\nHe first asked questions that anyone who was even remotely in touch with reality should know, the date, the day of the week, the president, that sort of thing. Then he asked, “What do you remember about the night you went to the old Pennington Hotel.”\nI thought maybe he would understand that I'm not crazy and that I really didn't know what had happened; he was a psychiatrist afterall. He should be able to figure out if a person's dallusional, right? I explained, “We were going to investigate the building. Some of the people keeping it up said they saw ghosts. Me and my friends are in to that stuff. We showed up, and we went in to the lobby. I remember feeling something dripping on my head. I remember, we all looked up at once, and they were all hanging there.\n\nThey looked dead, but we weren't sure, so we went all the way up to where they were hanging. The lobby is, like, four stories tall, and there's an area on each floor where you can look over the side. They were all the way up. We pulled them up, and called nine one one. They were all dead.”\nThe doctor jotted on the page, “Do you remember taking Ned Millhouse's id from his wallet?”\n“No!” I shouted, “Doesn't it seem like a coincidence that we look the same!”\n\nThe doctor calmly explained, “Yes, I do.”\n“Well?” I asked.\n\n“Do you think it is?” he asked.\n\n“No! I'm him! I can't explain it, but I am that guy, or he looks a lot like me!”\n“Okay,” said the doctor patiently, “why do you think he was there?”\n“I don't know!”\n\n“What do you think his name is?”\n“I don't know!”\n\nBack in the jail, the news came on in the common room. I was kind of a celebrity with the other innmates. They put one of my friends in solitary because he kept screaming about who he was. The other two might've been put somewhere else, either another jail in the next county over, or maybe the locked mental ward of the hospital where I had just been. I hadn't seen any of them since we were arrested.\n\nThe anchorwoman said, “Now, more on the grizzly quadruple murder at the historic Pennington Hotel, here's Peter Simpson.”\n\nThe screen showed the front of the hotel with crime scene ribbon stretched across it. The reporter said, “Last night, four young adults were found hanging inside this hotel. Now, the people accused of the crime are claiming to be their victums.\n\nIn a bizarre twist, all of the four suspects now being held at the county jail and local hospitals, are claiming to be the four teenagers who were found stabbed multiple times, then hung by the neck from the atrium at the Pennington Hotel. Prosecutor Chris Burns says all four are being evaluated to see if they are mentally ill because they seem to actually believe they are the dead teens.”\n\nThe prosecutor appeared, “They just keep saying we are these kids, and they seem to be telling the truth. They are either psychopaths, which would mean they have no conscience at all, or they all suffer from the same mental illness.”\n\nThe reporter continued, “The family of nineteen-year-old Ned Millhouse, one of the victums, say they think this is simply a way of monipulating the system. My own dad appeared on the screen crying and said, “It just hurts us even more. Right now, we're just trying to get through it the best we can, and these kids aren't making it any easier.”\n\nThe reporter added, “To make this case even more bizarre, the people accused of this crime actually share a striking resemblance to their victums. This whole thing is just very strange and more importantly, very sad. Back to you Lisa.”\n\nThe anchorwoman reappeared, “Thanks Peter. Detectives from the Vanderburgh County Sheriff's department say that the four victums left home around eight o'clock p.m. Friday night planning to conduct a paranormal investigation at the hotel. Ironicly, the four suspects claim they were going there for the same reason and found the bodies.”\n\nThe detective who interviewed me at length appeared, “It's actually very weird, they all seem to mimmic the story given to us by the parents right down to the girl pretending to be Megan Skinner saying that she put away her locket that her grandmother had given her before leaving, because she might lose it. I don't know how she got her to tell her that. It indicates these kids might've had a friendly conversation before all the violence started.”\n“Again, very strange, and our hearts go out to those four families,” finished the anchorwoman.", "Devan paused, machete raised ready to continue slashing his way through the jungle flora. What did Nick mean, \"don't look up?\" He raised an eyebrow at the primatologist, who was staring at Devan determinedly. His partner's skin was glistening with sweat, both their bodies were in the humid environment, but it looked to Devan almost as if Nick were afraid. \"I can assure you, Doctor Saiger, that as a myrmecologist my eyes are firmly fixed upon the ground.\" Devan gave a wry smile, hoping to alleviate the tension the older man's comments had evoked. Instead Nick gave a look of disbelief and a slight shake of the head.\n\n\"They can see us, Devan. Right now they're above us, watching.\" Devan tightened the grip on his machete as Nick spoke, the undisguised fear in his voice putting the young academic on edge. In all the stories he'd read, Devan had seen the same trope over and over, the eery silence that crept upon the unsuspecting as they came to believe they weren't alone. Instead, Devan found himself in the opposite situation. He found himself acutely aware of rustlings and scrapings that had previously gone unnoticed in the canopy around them. \"If you look up,\" Nick swallowed, a visible lump forming in his throat before sinking down, along with Devan's stomach, \"they will see. And they will think it means you are hostile to them. And then...\" Devan reached for the dead army ant encased in resin he wore around his neck on a string. Nick reached for his own machete, sheathed in his belt. \"And then they will attack.\" The two men continued locking eyes, refusing to look anywhere else out of fear. Nick slowly began to draw his machete as Devan listened to the sound of his own heart beating, merging with other sounds of the jungle. His hands began to shake as he heard more rustlings. Were they closer? He couldn't tell. He could feel his machete growing heavy in his hand, the sweat on his palm making it difficult to grip. Devan loosened the grip on his machete in order to pass it to his other, better gripping, hand. Instead, the weapon fell from his grasp to the jungle floor. Nick gasped, and Devan scrambled to the ground for the blade. Grasping it, he leapt to his feet triumphantly, forgetting Nick's warning and turning his gaze to the canopy as he did so. The smile died on his face as the monkeys attacked.", "Inspired by OPs username. \nIt had become a personal motto of mine. Keep your eyes firmly on the horizon if you want, gaze at the dirt, the tin cans and the skeleton bones on the ground if you want to. \nBut for fucks sake, whatever you do, don't look up. \n \nSome adapt to it easier than others. But I never thought out of all the horrors I heard about the outside during my life in the Vault, the thing that terrified me most was the sky. \n \nIt's like an endless ceiling that threatens to swallow you up.", "“Dude, whatever you do, don’t fucking look up.”\n\nHow the hell had things gone so horribly wrong? Just an hour ago they were getting ready to run the final test on their new technology. It was supposed to revolutionize the shipping and packaging industry. They had even finalized the tag-line – “Shrink’n’Ship: If the package is small, there is no problem at all.”\nJay had gone through all the calculations before handing over the input parameters to Mark. But somehow the device had malfunctioned, going haywire and zapping the test chamber with the Molecular Isotopic Nano Induction particles.\n\nNow they were huddled under their neighbor’s bed behind what looked like a gigantic Cheeto.\n“Why? What’s going on up there?” Jay asked.\n“You do not want to know.” Mark said as he ran back to Jay. “It seems like now is our chance to get the fuck out of here. He has put Bruno on his leash. So if we stay clear of the mutt, we can make it out.”\n“I just want to fucking kill that dog! Chasing us in here like that. He was going to eat me, you know!” Jay said.\n“I know… I was there too, you stupid fuck!” Mark smacked Jay on the side of his head.\n“Hey, what was that for?”\n“This is all your fault. How many times have I told you, NO FOOD IN THE LAB!”\n“It’s not my fault you don’t know how to fucking read. You are the one who punched in threshold 80 instead of 30 on the M.I.N.I. gun.”\n“THERE WAS JELLY ON THE 3!” Mark screamed as he kicked the Cheeto in frustration. The stale piece of junk food crumbled and dumped the cheesy yellow dust on the two scientists.\n“Great. Now I smell of cheese.” Jay said as he dusted the yellow powder off his lab coat. “Can we just stop with the blame game and figure out a way to get to the lab?”\n“Okay, on 3, we run to the door, crawl under it, make our way into the living room and out of this fucking apartment. And for heaven’s sake, do not look up.” Mark said. “Ready, 3… 2…”\n\nBefore he could finish counting down, a sudden gust of air knocked them to the ground. As they stood up, Jay saw that the floor in front of them by the foot of the bed was now covered with a huge newspaper. The two hairy legs on either side of it were slowly shifting forwards, as if to adjust the body in a certain position.\n“We have to go now!” Mark shouted as he took Jay’s hand and sprinted forward.\n“Is that Jerry?” Jay mumbled, but his words were drowned out by the sound of an electric motor turning on. At this scale, the noise was like a thunderstorm rumbling overhead. Just as they ran out from under the bed, the sound changed to a deeper tone, as if it was shearing through something. Jay could not contain himself and glanced up. He immediately regretted his decision.\n\nJerry’s enormous balls were hanging over the edge of the bed as the trimmer sliced through the thick forest of black curls around them. The clippings were raining down on the fleeing duo as they made their way to the door. It felt like someone had left bales of hay in front of an industrial fan – except these were the pubic hair of an overweight man.\n“HOLY FUCKING -“ Jay screamed.\n“I told you not to look, dumbass!” Mike said as he jumped over a dirty shoe.\n“I didn’t listen. I had to look.” Jay said “And now I can’t look away!”\nHe didn’t notice the shoelace and tripped over it, rolling onto the dirty carpet. He came to a stop by the door where Mark was already on his stomach trying to crawl through the tiny gap. Jay looked back and saw that Jerry had moved on from trimming to stroking.\n“Okay, now that is fucking gross!” he exclaimed as he crawled out behind Mark. “That is one image that is now engraved in my mind forever!” \n\nThey were in the living room and it was empty, except for the large black terrier chained to the radiator.\n“Okay, now we just need to get out and across to our place. There is a cracked window through which we can get into the basement lab.” Mark whispered. “Be quiet and stay away from Bruno’s reach.”\nThey started making their way slowly across the living room, keeping one eye on the sleeping dog. They were halfway to the door, huddled behind a Playboy lying on the floor when suddenly- “Oh yeah Baby! OHhhH!!” Jerry's loud moans as he reached the point of no return on his short pleasure cruise woke Bruno from his slumber. Mark and Jay stopped in their tracks as they saw the big dog jump up, startled and look around the room. His eyes finally settled on the duo right in front of him.\n“Uh oh…” Jay said as he saw Bruno cock his head, foaming at his mouth. \n“RUN!” Mark screamed. And so they ran. \nBruno lunged forward barking madly, but the chain strained on his neck as his salivating jaws came within inches of where Jay had stood a second ago.\nBoth of them jumped and slid over the hardwood surface and out from underneath the door just as the bedroom door flew open and Jerry came in shouting at Bruno to shut the fuck up.\n“Well, I have officially crapped my pants!” Jay declared as he helped Mark up. “But the good news is, we are out of that fucking place.”\n“You can say that again.” Mark panted as he tried to catch his breath. “Come on. It’s not that far now. We can follow the stone pathway across the garden. Let’s go.”\n\nThey finally made their way to the cracked basement window of their house and crawled through into their lab. All the equipment was there, ready to reverse the process.\n“We just need to punch in the inverse parameters. And don’t fuck up the threshold now.” Jay said as Mark ran over to the console.\n“How the fuck am I supposed to reach the keypad from here?” Mark exclaimed as he looked up at the console.\n“You don’t need to.” Jay said and he jumped on a button beside the control panel.\n“Voice commands activated. Please say the password for authentication.” The electronic voice echoed around them.\n“I programmed this last night when you were out.” Jay said with a smug look on his face.\n“And you are telling me this now?” Mike said, stunned. “We could have used this instead of manually putting in the numbers and none of this shit would have happened!”\n“Oh, well... My bad.” Jay said as he prepared the M.I.N.I. gun for the inverse routine.\n\nAt long last, they were finally back to their original sizes. Relieved, Jay plopped down on the couch as Mike handed him a beer.\n“At least we now know that the thing works!” Jay said.\n“Well, no shit Sherlock.” Mike rolled his eyes as he looked out the window. “Hey, looks like the sorority chicks are having a sleepover party.”\n“Wow, Girls drinking and sleeping together. Wish we could get in there somehow…” Jay sighed as he joined his friend at the window.\nSuddenly, both of them sprung up in excitement and looked at each other, eyes wide as the revelation finally hit home. \n“ME FIRST!” they shouted together as they scrambled towards the basement. \n", "--AUDIO TRANSCRIPT OF LAST MESSAGE SENT, SS ILBERTA, 29.04.72--\n\nThis is an urgent message to anybody on the station who's still alive. Whatever you do, don't look up. Just look at the floor for god's sake, just avoid looking at the ceiling.\n\nEver since they got in, about two weeks ago, they've spread through this place like a cancer. They're everywhere. Hundreds of them.\n\nThey roost, or they lurk, on the ceiling. They just sit there, out of sight, in wait, until someone looks at them. We don't know why, but they just don't care about you until you LOOK at them.\n\nWe can't kill them. We've tried everything, but the more we kill, the more new ones come out to play. \n\nPlease. For god's sake, just... \n\nDon't\n\nLook\n\nUp\n\n--TRANSCRIPT ENDS--", "The long, brown robes that Ian wore looked as drab as the stone that formed the protective encasement of the great city of Duranthal. The robes were a traditional garb, or so he was told, but he had to admit that they were comfortable. He could certainly be dealing with worse. \n \n\"Welcome, initiates,\" a deep voice boomed out to the ground, in which Ian found himself. \"Here, you find yourself upon the precipice of a great journey. Though long and arduous, at the end, with your lives devoted to earth and spirits which give us life, you will find enlightenment.\" \n \nIan took a moment to cast his gaze about the crowd around him. All, like him, had been selected upon coming of age to become clerics. He'd never felt particularly religious, though he'd not admit to such things. Still, it was a good calling, relatively. Clerics were highly respected, so he was sure he could get used to it in time. \n \nThe man that stood at the front of the group of initiates wore a robe just like those before him, but his was adorned with a simple blue sash about his waist, a sign of his seniority among the clerics. It was a symbol of how long he had served the stone, and his devotion to the tosue spirits. \n \nIan thought for a moment about the spirits. He'd never seen them, but he was told that their existence was manifest in the protective womb of the earth in which humanity was held safe from all beyond that would destroy them. He wondered if he might actually meet them now that he was becoming a cleric. He'd never question it aloud, since it was blasphemy to do so. Still, he couldn't help but hold a measure of excitement over the things he might learn about their great protectors. \n \nThe senior cleric turned to face away from the initiates and stood before a great set of gold and crimson doors that adorned the entrance to the Temple of Tranquility, Duranthal's grandest tosue temple, and where the traditional rites were performed for indoctrinating new initiates into the order. The doors emitted a low rumble as they were pushed open, the sound of heavy, grinding metal on hinges. Before them, a beautiful sanctuary bathed in light from candles and glowstones. The room gave off the very aura of peace. \n \nIan smiled to himself, thinking once again that he could be working in worse places. Jethan had been called to sanitation upon his coming of age. Ian shuddered to think of what that job entailed. With the sound of the march of footsteps, Ian fell into line with the other initiates, following the senior cleric into the bowels of the temple. Passing through the sanctuary, the cleric led his followers to another non-descript door that opened to a long, narrow hallway. The passage was dark, save for flickering light from sparse sconces positioned along the wall. \n \nAfter some time of walking, the entire group stopped at the behest of the man leading them. The cleric turned and spoke to the group, \"The path that you have set your feet upon will take you to the very depths of human peace and understanding. The tosue will guide you, but you must listen to their call. The spirits of the earth lie beneath your feet, guiding each step you take with purpose. Turn your eyes downward, and face those that would embrace you. To turn your gaze away means a very rejection of all that we hold dear as well as those spirits that love and hold us close to them. Do not look up, my children. There is nothing there but emptiness. Keep your eyes on the stone.\" ", "x-post from/r/shortscarystories:\n\nJohn forgot his phone at home. He always felt so awkward without it. John looked around the subway platform again. He noticed every single person was on their phone.\n\nExcept John. He stared over the sea of people, trying to find someone, anyone, who wasn't on their phone who would empathize. Their eyes would meet and John would shrug as if to say “it’s no big deal” even though it was a huge deal.\n\nBut John didn’t find anyone. No, everyone had their eyes glued to their screen, oblivious to the world around them.\n\nA man bumped into John and handed him something. It was a cell phone, but it was near dead. \n\n“Don’t ever let them catch you looking up,” the man warned. He too was holding an object, but the battery life had gone out. Suddenly, the man broke into a run, screaming and fighting through the sea of people to get to an exit. Everyone turned to look at him, almost in sync. John felt the hairs on his neck stand up. A loud noise, unearthly but almost like a telephone dial tone, suddenly rang out on the platform.\n\nPeople started tearing him apart. John watched with fear as the man was dismembered, right in front of him, by the people who had been looking at their cell phones. John was frozen with fear. Suddenly, it stopped. John was amazed to see all the people go back to looking at their phones. John started to quietly make his way out of the crowd, desperate to get to the world outside.\n\nThe cellphone beeped, dying loudly. Suddenly John found all eyes on him.", "\"Whatever you do, don't look up.\" These were the words streaming through the air, cell phones, television screens, radios -- hysteria is all the world's nations have become. Of course, many paid no mind and looked up anyway. What was seen appeared to be a star. Odd to see a star in broad day light besides our sun, but it was bright. It was nearly as bright as the sun and gently growing in size. On the other side of the world, the night skies brightened up like the skies at dawn. Many asked, \"What is that?\" The answer was a statistic prayed to never occur: an asteroid heading towards Earth at incredible speeds. It was too close to avoid, to destroy, and was measured to be the size of the United Staes and China combined. \n\nPeople prayed. People embraced. People screamed, yelled, looted, murdered, raped and started flames. Sirens, like the warning, streamed through the air. This was it, like lives in centuries before our own, extinction, or near so, was upon us.\n\nMeant as an attempt at denial, \"Whatever you do, don't look up\" - the warning - went ignored. To look up was to die -- to ignore the words was to accept the end. For once it hit our world - the asteroid - so to did death.", "Whatever you do, don't look up. If you're ever outside the base, no matter what, do not look up.\n\nThose are the first words the commanding officers said when we arrived here at the outpost six months ago. In six months, I haven't even seen the outside world. All the walls are solid. The only things that go in and out of here are the supply ships, and those are operated by AI. Nobody ever gets the chance to see what's out there, and we're told to keep it that way or else we'll all go mad. They tell us that there are things outside that will eat our souls and leave our bodies as husks. They tell us that the first people to make it here all died within minutes of stepping out of their ship. They say that as long as we're inside, we're safe from all the things out there.\n\nThey're wrong. Whatever's out there, it's in here too. I can feel it. I can hear it, scratching at the edge of my mind. Whispers in the shadows, things just beyond the edge of sight, music that nobody else can hear. I tried to tell the base docs about it, but they just told me that a bit of paranoia is normal here until you get used to it.\n\nLet me tell you something, those docs don't know shit. A couple days ago, one of the supply ships' AI got the course in a bit wrong somehow. Maybe the things outside arranged it, I don't know. It crashed through the hatch doors while I was on guard duty in the receiving bay. I knew the repair bots would take at least 10 minutes to get there, so I took the opportunity to slip outside.\n\nI looked up.\n\nNow I know the truth. I have seen the glory of what's out there, and I brought it back inside with me. Soon everybody shall know the truth, and together we bring them through to rule this world.\n\nIf you're ever outside, make sure you look up, and you'll know the truth too.", "My first kiss was in an airport, with a girl named Marie who had decided to kill herself.\n\nI had met her while waiting to board. She had looked nervous, so I had begun a conversation. It was my first time traveling alone, and I too was scared.\n\nShe confessed to me that she was also scared, but not of the trip. \"Then why are you scared?\" I had asked.\n\n\"I am going to kill myself before the plane lands,\" she had said, so matter-of-fact that she could have been saying that the sky was blue.\n\n\"But why? Why on the plane?\"\n\n\"I don't want to be alive anymore.\" And then she had changed the subject, asking about me.\n\nShe was older than me, I learned. She had 17 years to my 14. I was travelling alone to see my grandparents for the summer; she had simply purchased the ticket in order to fly far across the country. Her father, she had said, was not a nice man, and her mother cared more for Marie's father than for Marie. She said nothing more of her mother or father, but I spotted several bruises on her legs when she shifted in her seat.\n\nI had noticed that she had no suitcase, only a small handbag. When I had asked her why, she had ignored the question and asked instead why my suitcase was so large.\n\nWe had talked away the hour until boarding. Nothing important: what we were studying in school, what books we had read recently, what music we like to listen to. Then she had abruptly kissed me on the lips as we stood to board the airplane.\n\nI must have looked startled, but she had only placed a finger over my lips to silence me. \"I wanted to kiss someone before I was dead,\" she had said. \"And I wanted them to kiss me back.\" She drew me close to her, and, charmed by her mystique, I obeyed. It seemed an eternity before she pulled herself away from me. \"Now,\" she continued, grasping both of my shoulders and looking me in the eyes, \"I need you to listen exactly to what I say.\" I nodded. \"Do not get on this plane. Go back to your seat, sit down, and wait for the next one. And whatever you do, don't look up.\" She kissed me again, this time on the cheek. \"Remember me.\" Then she turned and boarded the plane.\n\nHypnotized, I sat down. There had been something about her tone, the hard-set features of face as she had warned me, the fire in her eyes. And so I waited, and I did not get on the plane.\n\nI heard the explosion, and I felt it shake the building, but I did not see it. Per Marie's warning, I did not look up. Instead, I closed my eyes tight and waited for someone with a badge and a gun to come tell me that it was alright.\n\nIt was only then that I had looked outside. A charred aluminum corpse was all that remained of the airplane.\n\nThe cause of the explosion was ruled to be mechanical failure -- some failing part had created a spark, and that had ignited the fuel tank. There had been no survivors.\n\nI was told for days how lucky I was not to have boarded that plane. I was even contacted for several news interviews. I appeared on morning television. \"How did you know not to board the plane?\" \"What kind of feelings do you have right now, knowing that you could have perished?\" \"Do you feel as if God was at work here, or as if there was some kind of divine intervention?\" My answer was always the same. I felt sad, shaken even. Sometimes, I felt guilty, like I should have died with them. I had told the news anchors and talking heads that perhaps it was God or some other higher power at work.\n\nThat was nearly 30 years ago. In truth, I do not feel like God had intervened. I felt that a beautiful girl named Marie had told me not to get on the plane, not to look up at the plane. Because she was going to kill herself. I suppose that because I had talked to her, because she had kissed me and I had kissed her, she did not want me to see it.\n\nAnd it had been good that I had listened to her." ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 3, 4, 4, 16, 24, 97 ]

[ "1421006528", "1421009071", "1421012718", "1421012827", "1421014739", "1421019220", "1421026338", "1421028811", "1421029957", "1421000691", "1421004724", "1421007651", "1421026043", "1421008641", "1421014455", "1420999126", "1421006652", "1421001322" ]

[ "I slowly opened my eyes to see the teenager cursing at my lamp. \n\"good luck, finding him.\" \nI whispered a teleportation spell, transporting him to Maghreb.\nthen rolled back in bed and put a pillow over my head. \nFucking trespassers! ", "\"I rubbed this stupid lamp, where the fuck is my genie.\"\n\nNot the nicest of ways to be woken up from a three-thousand year sleep. And why is it that I'm consistently woken up at the very best moment in my dream? I had just been freed from the confines of this prison that is my lamp by a young prince and his beautiful princess and I was ready to explore the world. Instead I've been thrust back into reality by some loud-mouthed, very impatient Italian man. \n\n\"I swear on my mother's cannoli, if this is some kind'a prank I'm gonna take this lamp and bash your knees in until you're prayin' for a genie what can make ya walk again!\"\n\n\"Time to go,\" I thought, \"before he dents up my lamp on that poor souls knee caps\". \n\n\"Greetings!\" I said in my best booming-genie-voice as I popped my lid and burst fourth from my lamp. I found myself in a small smoke filled room full of Italian men with leather jackets and one young middle-eastern looking man all facing the desk of the eldest Italian man who appeared to be in charge. \n\n\"Oh my god!\" one of them shouted as they all pulled the breast of their jackets over their nose and mouth. It's extremely upsetting that this happens every time. Everyone is so surprised by the smell that they can barely appreciate the majesty of what is happening in front of their eyes. I've been in a six square-inch lamp for three-thousand years; no showers, no deodorant, and despite popular belief, genies *do* pass gas just like regular people. \n\n\"You have awakened the genie and it is my duty to grant you three wishes, what will you have?\"\n\n\"Holy shit,\" said the eldest Italian man, \"that's a real life fuckin' genie\".\n\n\"You gotta be shittin' me\" said another. \n\nThe room erupted with ideas on what the Godfather should wish for; \"have all our cousins come back to life\", \"let the Jets win the Superbowl\", \"make sure that body stays sunk\". Eventually, the Godfather grew angry.\n\n\"QUIET!\" he shouted. \"I'm only gonna need two. Firstly, I want to learn the long lost recipe for my mother's delicious cannoli.\" \n\nI looked into the eyes of the old man, I found his long lost mother in my infinite memory of the world and from her mind I pulled the recipe for the delicious cannoli. \"Granted\", I said and a weathered piece of paper appeared on the Godfathers desk with the long lost recipe. \n\n\"My god, thank you\" he said. \"Second, and lastly, I wish for there to be everlasting peace between us and all other mafia of the world.\"\n\nI looked into his eyes once again and saw the identity of every enemy he had ever encountered, and just as I was about to grant him his wish, a grenade smashed through a small window in the room followed by a wave of slurs and a loud bang. \n\nI then found myself floating above the wreckage, my lamp in pieces, and I found myself free to go discover the world. \n " ]

[ 1, 3 ]

[ "1421035246", "1421026057" ]

[ "*Fuck. Where did he come from?*\n\nBryan had been through this before. He activated his turn signal and pulled over onto the shoulder of the highway. For a second Bryan had hoped that the red and blue lights of the police car were meant for someone else. But his hopes were dashed as the cop car pulled in behind him.\n\nBryan watched as the trooper exited his vehicle and made the long walk to his driver’s side window. Experience taught him to keep his face impassive and to avoid any sudden movements.\n\n*Car in park? Check.*\n\n*Dome light on? Check.*\n\n*Window down? Check.*\n\n*Hands visible? Check.*\n\n*I hope this guy is better than the last one* Bryan thought. *God that guy was a dick.*\n\n“Sir, do you know why I pulled you over this evening?”\n\n“Err, not really officer… Miller.”\n\n“It’s Trooper Miller. And the reason I pulled you over was because you \ncrossed over the white line.”\n\n“I- Really? I’m sorry Troop…”\n\n“Sir, have you been drinking tonight? I’m going to need you to step out of the vehicle and perform some tests for me.”\n\nAn hour, several sobriety checks, and a long wait for a canine unit to sniff for drugs later, Bryan was back in his car. *Twelve days into the new year and I’ve only now just got a ticket. Not bad.* Last year Bryan had started off the year by receiving a citation driving home after a New Year’s Eve party. *Fucking stereo too loud my ass…*\n\nHe’d always had the worst luck when it came to getting tickets. He’d always been a cautious driver. He was always careful to not speed, signal his turns, and to come to a complete halt at stop signs. Still, it seemed like cops were attracted to him. Sometimes they just gave him a warning. Other times they would pull him over, sit behind him for a few minutes, and then drive off again without saying a word. But more often than not, they wrote him a ticket for some petty bullshit. It gave Bryan an ulcer to think about how this latest ticket was going to affect his insurance rates. He sighed as he pulled into the parking lot of his favorite watering hole. He knew for sure that his friends were going to have a good laugh at his expense.\n\n“Jesus Bryan. Did you get pulled over again?” Dan called out, having been the first to notice his arrival. Steve, John, and Damon turned to greet him as well, broad smirks on their faces. Bryan’s fabulously bad luck with tickets was legendary with his friends\n\n“Yup. You know it” he said, taking his seat next to Damon. Damon was a deputy, and one of the few cops in the city that hadn’t pulled Bryan over. Damon laughed, and Bryan knew what he was going to say next before he even opened his mouth. *Let the guessing games begin.*\n\n“Was it Garcia? Guys got a hard-on for you, man. Or maybe Roberts?”\n\n“Nope. It was some trooper prick named Miller. I didn’t get more than a couple of words out before he starts asking me to recite the alphabet backwards. Z-Y-X, W-V….” Bryan started to sing-song. He’d memorized it a \nwhile ago.\n\nThe guys all laughed, and Damon groaned.\n\n“Aww man, the Stateys, really? They have no sense of humor. Did you get a ticket?”\n\n“Oh Yeah” Bryan sighed. “But you know what the weird thing was? He was really worked up about my license plate. He repeated it like six times.” He began to imitate the curt trooper talking into his radio. “X-J-1…”\n\nThe guys laughed some more as Damon sputtered on his beer. Bryan thought it might have been his imagination, but as Damon struggled to regain his composure he thought he noticed a strange look go across his face. *Odd*, thought Bryan.\n\nSeveral hours later Bryan had nearly completed his DD duties. Damon was almost passed out in the passenger seat. Stopping in front of Damon’s apartment, Bryan shook his shoulder to rouse him.\n\n“Arewehere?” Damon said in a drunken slur.\n\n“Yeah.” Bryan paused for a moment. The question had been bugging him all \nnight. “Hey Damon, what’s the deal with my license plate?”\n\nDamon stirred, waking up a bit.\n\n“I can-can’t tell you. Jussht take it from me. Go down to the DMV tomorrow and get new plates. Although it probably…it probably won’t matter…” Damon trailed off.\n\n“Come on Damon. We’re buddies. What’s going on here?”\n\nDamon paused, nodding his head. It took a long moment of deliberation before he spoke again.\n\n“You’ve got a HOS-plate” He said.\n\n“What’s that? Bryan said.\n\n“Harrass. On. Sight.” Said Damon in a drunken staccato. He continued.\n\n“Rules say we pull over any car that starts with XJ1. ‘Make up any excuse’ the rules say. So we do.”\n\nBryan was perplexed, certain that Damon was pulling his leg. Damon pulled himself upright, sobering himself before continuing.\n\n“I don’t know what you did Bryan. But all I know is that someone is out to ruin your life. Someone very-”\n\nDamon pointed upwards\n\n“-high up.” \n", "I was turning onto Oak Street when it hit me. Well, it would be more accurate to say *they* hit me: my sudden flash of inspiration, as well as that darn runaway semi.\n\nI'd been working on it for months. At first it was just an odd, barely-there pattern, sort of a private joke to help break up the monotony of my day. But eventually I realized that my uncanny skill at guessing the last digit on the license plates of totaled cars coming into the yard was more than just a funny coincidence. Sure, I wasn't always right, but with each time that I was my bemusement slowly gave way to a chilling fear. Fear that there was something behind it.\n\nAnd so I started keeping track. Maybe a smarter man would have sussed out the pattern sooner. Then again, a smarter man would probably never even contemplate such a crazy idea, much less worry about cars in a junkyard. It even took me a week or two before realizing that I should get in touch with other yards around the city; once I did that I knew I was on to something.\n\nBut I didn't have the full picture until seconds too late. Funny that the thing that would make everything click would be my *own* plate. I suppose I should have been angry or something, but honestly I was too tired to really care. After all, if this was the price of having such a well-organized and peaceful society, wasn't it worth it?\n\n---------\n\nAs he watched the semi barrel through the intersection on his monitor, Steve flipped off the traffic light override, then hit the button to confirm. *And that's ten...done for today* he thought to himself, as he did every time he filled his quota.\n\nSteve watched the \"Now Serving\" sign advance from \"JUK-505\" to \"ATR-431\". He had always thought the sign a bit callous, but his supervisor had put it up as a joke and seemingly couldn't get enough of it. Steve didn't know who decided what numbers would come up every day, but he knew well that the culling was necessary for society to function. After all, they always pointed this out at the weekly calibration meeting. Of course, anyone who had a problem with that usually didn't make it to calibration anyway.\n\nSwitching off the monitor, Steve strapped on his bicycle helmet and headed for the door. *Hope I can get home before the rain.*", "\"So, does it show that I hate cats?\" Arghavan asked.\n\n\"No.\" Alex sounded almost angry now. \"It's more complex than that. It takes into account everything; age, health, medical history, religion, education, annual income...\"\n\n\"For what, though? What's the *point*?\"\n\n\"Control?\"\n\nArghavan laughed. \"That didn't sound very confident, buddy.\"\n\n\n\"It's real,\" Alex insisted. \"This could change everything.\"\n\n\"Why not go public? Tell everyone, instead of just me.\"\n\n\"It could distort the way the world works. Famine, genocide, you name it.\"\n\n\"And the plates know?\"\n\n\n\"The plates *tell*. The information is coded into them. Like mitocondrical DNA.\"\n\n\"Wow. That's... That's a lot to take in.\"\n\n\nAlex pats her arm. \"Give it time.\"\n\nThey watch as Ben enters the room, passes out the little cups full of pills.\n\n\n\"And they think we're crazy.\"\n\n\nArghavan laughs. " ]

[ 4, 7, 8 ]

[ "1421053466", "1421047946", "1421041747" ]

[ "Pain and anger, my only companions, drove me to permanent solace. But, I was betrayed by my emotions. I lay in the tub, my blood had reddened the water and the cracked mirror across the room reflected my haunted grin. It was eerie, being alive but without any ability to move.\nThe true irony of my situation wouldn't strike me until hours, maybe even a day later. The only one in my life who would stumble into my shitty apartment, or flat as my British neighbor calls it, my ex. She wasn't coming to apologize, she came to get her shit again. honestly, it wasn't even her shit, she just knew she could take it and I couldn't do anything but beg for her back. \nAnyways, I heard her in the next room, boxing up what must be my 44\" TV and game systems. They were good money, and she definitely didn't play so I knew she needed them for cash. I wasn't even upset, I was just betting with myself if she would come into the bathroom and find my in my bloody water, wrists slit and a stupid grin of suicidal mania on my face. \nThe door crashed open, unceremoniously. Positioned as I was in the tub, I was not able to see the actual door, only the medicine cabinet and broken mirror. Of course, she ran straight to the medicine cabinet and threw open the front and quickly searched through all my pills. The Zanny went quick, followed by the oxy, and finally she found my pot stash inside the 'self-med' bottle. Stuffing them all in her purse she finally turned around, and I was really happy I had that shit-eating grin paralyzed on my face.\n\nTwo weeks later and I am finally the only one who knows my immortality. I...eliminated...my ex and the docs who cared for me and can finally pursue my calling in life; To bring my pain and anger as fuel to stoke the flames, and to watch the pathetic drivel who claim mortality wither and die before my undying rage and sadness.", "Knock. Knock. Knock. \n\n\"COME IN!\" I shouted through a crushed larynx. I had left the door unlocked so they wouldn't break down the door searching for me. At least I thought this through to a point, if only an irrelevant one. \n\n\"Why couldn't you just answer the do-?\" She stopped in her tracks as she entered, looking up at me in all my shame. \"What the fuck are you doing?\"\n\n\"I think that trying to hang myself isn't the worst thing you've walked in on me doing.\" I said matter-of-factly. \"Think you can help me down?\"\n\n\"I think we should talk about this.\" She said crossing her arms and assuming the pose of a woman with a considerable amount of sass. You know the one. \n\n\"I don't want to talk about it. I want down.\" I said back. I really didn't want to talk about it. \n\nShe scooted the chair that was on its' side underneath me, and I finally found some footing. \"Thank you.\" I said as I pulled the noose from around my neck. \"You know I've been hanging there for 7 hours now?\"\n\n\"How are you alive?\" She asked. \n\n\"Not sure.\" I said and jumped down from the chair and stepped around her into the dining area. I picked up the glass of Scotch I had poured myself 7 and a half hours ago and sipped it. \"I hate it when the Alcohol is watered down.\"\n\n\"So we're really not going to talk about this?\" She asked angrily. \"I just came home to you trying to hang yourself.\"\n\n\"Like you care, how's Benny?\" I asked with disdain. She didn't know I knew, but I knew. She had been fucking that pretentious snobby prick for 6 weeks, now. \n\n\"What are you talking about, Mark?\" She said back, but she shifted her hips, that was her tell. She shifted her hips every time she had lied to me. \n\n\"Nothing. If you don't want to talk about him, then I don't want to talk about me.\" I said back, and I sat down in the comfortable couch and sipped my Scotch.\n\n\"If you were ever going to talk about you then you would have a long time ago. I'm sick of being kept out of your life, Mark.\" She said, and it was at this point that I always tuned out. I'd been alive for 2000 years, and I'd lost so many \"Love's\". I've been married enough times to kill a man. And I've seen some shit. Horrible night terror inducing shit. The kind of shit that makes your head spin, and makes the world seem fuzzy. It's not all bad, but the shit I've seen has humbled me and made me arrogant all at once. I see things for what they are, and what they could have been. Immortality has gotten old.\n\n\"I just can't keep doing this. I want to share my life with another person. Why can't you ever be open with me?\" I turn away from her to the bottle of Scotch on the side table. I turn back and smile as I pour another drink, this time not diluted. She continues to ramble on and on, but I've accepted it. This Marriage was over 6 weeks ago. Maybe it's my fault, maybe it's hers, maybe it's no ones. \n\nIt seems the only thing that lasts through eternity is our vices.\n\nAt least they're good company. ", "No one cared. According to the books I’ve read, someone should have attempted to stop me before it got this far. Now I’m here, just hanging around. You see, I’m trying to kill myself. I’ve tried it before in many different way; I’ve tried slicing my wrists, I’ve tried pills, hell, I’ve even been shot in the chest. I’m still here though. I think I’ve found the answer to my problem, I’ll hang myself. If my spine separates, I should finally be able to die. No more feelings, no more life, no more disappointment. This is something that I have always wanted.\n\nI went through with it! I wrote my letter stating why I was going through with this. I made myself a nice ending meal, just a PB&J because that’s all I have left. I found the perfect rope to use, its military grade; it should hold my weight and not break. I found the perfect place to do the act itself, the only thing I’m waiting for is the sensation.\n\nYet I’m still here. I can see everything from where I am, the rope, the knocked over chair, the letter on the coffee table, and I’m still here. Maybe it wasn’t enough of a jolt? Maybe I’m slowly strangling myself, but I could swear I heard a pop when the chair fell. I’m not sure how to get out of this situation; I thought this was my answer. Is this punishment from God? Why can’t I just die?\n\n“Hello? Is there anyone home?”\n\nDamn it! I forgot that the cleaning lady was still getting a weekly check from my sister. She shows up twice a week to ‘put my life back in order’. Well since she is here and I’m not dead, she should be able to help me down from my predicament. I’ll just call out to her and tell her not to be afraid. Now, if only my vocal cords worked in this position.", "I took a deep breath, and closed my eyes. I wiggled the stool beneath my feet and was ready for the drop. I felt that sudden feeling of regret, but continued on falling for a brief moment before my neck felt the pressure and my head felt like it was in a swell. \n\n8:03 a.m. my alarm clock is buzzing. What the hell had happened? I was still hanging here, in the doorway of my closet by a jump-rope. I decided last night at 12 I was going to finish it. Had I just...fallen asleep? What the fuck is wrong with me though, I can't even kill myself correctly. I need to get down, try this again. The rope tightens with every wiggle, every effort to get the knot loose. My feet hung just inches from the floor. Maybe I am dead, and this is hell. Out my window I can make out shadows. I hear the voices of children, 3 of them. Little beings without a care in the world, they made their way to my door and began knocking. Their giggles sent shivers down my spine, what have I really become? I was frightened and felt more alone than ever. I then heard the door open, oh shit. Theyre going to see me this way? Their young minds scarred for life. \n\nI heard the 3 sets of little feet approach my room. Im writhing and trying my hardest to get out of this. My neck begins to bleed from the thin rope suspending me. \n\n\"Hello mister?\"\n\nTwo little girls and a boy. Standing there in front of me, I have never seen these kids before. Their eyes were black as night. They were all a pale blue, like they had been drowning all their lives. \n\n\"What are you doing up there mister?\"\n\nStuddering I say, \"Oh just, I was playing with this jump-rope and I got stuck.\"\n\n\"Don't be silly mister, we know why!\"\n\nThey all let out a shallow laugh and ran off. The door slammed shut, my voice grew silent with my screams. I was either deaf or actually dying this time.\n\nThat was 50 years ago. See, immortality comes in different forms. Immortality, of the afterlife.", "...On the next episode of Heroes. ", "Babyface. That's what everybody calls me. 45 years old and I still can't grow a beard to save my life. All my adult life I've looked exactly the same way I did when I graduated high school. \n\nThat wasn't the only reason. But it was a big reason. Going through work, looking like I'm 16 years old, Passed over for promotions Year after year. Nobody takes anything I say seriously. There's never been a single iime when I went to buy beer and I wasn't carded, hell people won't even sell to me when I see them I'm 45 and I look like I've just got done taking a drivers license test, they tell me I need to \"give this back to my dad.\"\n\nAnd you try dating, looking like you just got done taking an SAT. Sure, some guys would probably be thrilled. Those guys Don't know what it's like. You try dating people who just graduated high school, they're idiots! And try having a long-term relationship with somebody was embarrassed to be seen with you in public.\n\nReally, I can't complain. My only complaint is that I wish I had learned to text.", "There I was, hanging from my neck. The foothold I was previously standing on kicked away, just out of reach. I thought my life had been horrible up until now, but it seems it was able to get worse after all. This week it had finally hit an all time low and I finally managed the guts to just give in. Took a trip to the hardware store, bought some very sturdy rope and thought I was all set. \n\nThis is when I realized I had no way in my home to do the deed. Any other way had always seemed messy. I had it all planned out as well, leave a message on the alarm number informing them that I was going to do it, to make sure it would not be my loved ones that found me, but a professional. Even though I was ending it, I did not want them to suffer more than they would already. Only having a few anyway, I wanted them to remember me in a positive light, to ensure at least someone would remember me at all. \n\nAnyway, this was all useless when I came to the realization that I would have to take it elsewhere. Fortunately, there is a nice big forest right behind my apartment where lots of people walk their dogs. Like I said, this changed the plan. Needing more time to set everything up, I was afraid the police would show up too early and stop me before I could do it. I called my landlord to come over that afternoon for a 'repair' and thought he could find my note informing him of my deed, and suggesting he doesn't come find me but to call the professionals instead. \n\nThe forest turned out to not be ideal, I had to walk a while before I found a good tree with a sturdy enough branch that I could reach. This is when I truly did it. I made a good knot in my rope, secured it to the branch, put my head in it and kicked away the other fallen branch that I was standing on. I even researched a proper knot on the internet beforehand. Yep, that knot is good and tight alright. \n\nThis is where my new formed plan went awry. I seem to be immortal or have an extraordinary sturdy neck. The first option actually seems more likely, as I have never been in a serious accident in my life and I have had several appointments with the physiotherapist for the muscles in my neck and shoulders. I would not have had any way of knowing before now. The problem now is that I am still hanging here. At first I thought I would call the police myself after all, to come get me, although I hadn't thought of a way to explain the situation. This plan soon fizzled out when I realized I left my phone on my kitchen counter with my keys (why would I need them, I would not be coming home)\n\nThen I tried to undo my knots. Sadly, internet is a good teacher, and even after several long tries it has not budged at all.\nIt has been several months now, and although my body is famished and starting to dry out, my mind seems to be functioning just fine. My trek into the forest seems to have been farther then I realized. \n\nI should have known, my landlord never liked me anyway. \n", "\"Ok, you want the rest of the story? The part of it I don't tell? You're familiar with my strange origins, everyone is after it was leaked.\" I looked over at the reporter as she took down notes on her laptop. Part of me was regretting this \"interview with a superhero\" idea.\n\n\"Back then I wasn't, didn't know I was adopted, didn't know I wasn't human. Perhaps that's why I felt like an outsider, because I was, maybe it was just me.\" I paused and took a sip of water.\n\n\"But then I discovered my powers. Want to guess at how before I tell you? I'll give you a hint; it wasn't a joyous flight through the fields like the movie of my life suggested\"\n\n\"Did you have to pull someone from a burning vehicle?\" She hazarded.\n\n\"No\"\n\n\"Fall off a building?\"\n\n\"No\"\n\n\"Punch through a wall?\"\n\n\"More embarrassing\"\n\n\"Autoerotic asphyxiation?\" She said jokingly.\n\n\"Close\"\n\nShe looked slightly shocked at having hit close to the mark with a joke reply.\n\n\"One night I went down to the barn, tied a noose from a low beam and kicked the stool away\" I said bluntly \"I had to wait till morning until my Pa found me and cut me down. In retrospect I could have used my strength or levitated, but I didn't know that then. That's when he explained about the capsule they'd found me in as a baby. Sort of forced his hand on that one really, needing and explanation on not dying and all\"\n\nNow she looked really shocked.\n\n\"I'm only bulletproof physically\" I said.", "Wink. Wink. Blink. Wink. \n\nIt was supposed to be over. You did everything right; a nice sturdy rope, a little cabin all to yourself, a nice strong beam high enough off the ground that your feet wouldn't touch, a stool to jump off of. It had worked perfectly. No pain or suffering really, just a quick snap and the neck was broken, the spinal cord irreparably and fatally damaged. By all reason you should be dead. But are you?\n \nWink. Wink. Blink. \n \nIronically if you had prepared a little less well you might be able to revel in this. Death was a pretty shitty escape but you had your reasons. Immortality, though, well that changed the game. Or it would if you could move. \n \nBlink. Wink. Blink. Wink. \n \nNow there was nothing for it. Somehow you'd managed to make things even worse than if you had just died. And what were the rules of this immortality? What kind of cruel joke is it to be unable to die but able to be injured? Tears well up as you imagine what the future has in store for you. The pangs of starvation. Small animals eating at your paralyzed flesh. Eventual discovery. And then the inevitable scientific inquiry. \n \nBlink. Wink. Blink.\n\nIt could be worse you suppose. You still have your senses about you. You can see. You can hear. And you can still move your eyelids which means that if there was anyone around who knew how to listen, you could communicate. \n\nYay. ", "It has been two days since she cut me down from my noose. Enough time to show how foolish it was of me to attempt suicide while she was out of town for the week. What did I hope to accomplish in her absence? Did I secretly want her to find my decayed body hovering over my own excrement? I love this woman and that wasn't something she deserved, but I followed through in my actions anyways without any forethought. Never any forethought, my modus operandi. Bad investments, loans from the wrong kind of people, the affairs that hopefully she knows nothing about, the fraud scheme. Not once did I think about the consequences that lie in my actions. This time though I couldn't be blamed, I don't know if anyone would ever expect to live through their suicide attempt. After the first day of a lack of death I caved in and dialed her phone. The first attempt resulted in nothing as the pressure of the noose around my trachea disallowed me from speaking on the phone. With the second attempt, I simply texted \"Im dying. Please come\". The simultaneous look of shock, fear and distress cut me like a knife. She ran to me and doggedly tried her best to lift me in an attempt to ease the tension around my neck. When it seemed futile she grabbed a knife and cut the rope. I fell with a loud thud. She loosened the noose around my neck and cried as I took that first breath.\n\nHere in the now we sit on opposite sides of the table during dinner time, hardly looking at one another. I had not eaten in the time I was hanging around the living room. The hunger that had grown in me for the past two days has surfaced; so I voraciously ate my meal as if it was my first. Maybe that's what I'm telling myself in an attempt to dance around the elephant in the room. From the top corner of my eye I can see her stare sheepishly at her plate, hunched over and pecking at it like a bird. A bit of vegetables here, a bit of meat there. I wanted to say something, tell her it's not her fault. They were my mistakes and I didn't want her involved in the repercussions that come with it. Who knew that I would only put her under more distress? Something had to break the silence, she had to know. As I opened my mouth to speak, she said \"I know. I've known everything all long.\" Tears welled up and streamed down my face so powerful there was no way to stop it if I tried. How could she not know? She's a bright woman, observant and aware of everything around her. Of course she would have known. Squandering all of our money, getting involved with shady characters and the affairs. I've made a fool of her, I've hurt her; the last person on Earth I would ever want to see hurt. \n\n\"Where do we go from here?\" I asked.\n\nWith a reply akin to that of a tired sigh she replied, \"'Til death do us part right?\" as she held up her wrists to show me her fresh scars.", "Siri, take note: \n\n* What would you like the note to say *\n\nDay 1, the snow is back and my ears are seriously cold to the point of frost bite. It does seem however that whatever is keeping me alive is also healing my wounds. This has become a problem as the steel wire around my neck is now starting to get fused into the upper layers of my skin as it heals from my attempts to free myself. How the hell am I going to feed the dog. I forgot about Slip. My dog, how could I forget him.\n\n\n*Noted*\n\n\nSiri, take note: \n\n* What would you like the note to say *\n\nDay 2: Going on two days now that I have decided it was simpler to swing than to deal with the aftermath of telling anyone I know what is going on even if I could get a signal down here. I think I broke my neck last night trying once again to swing enough to loosen the wire. I have my hands free but it does me no good at this point as the wire is so thin and tight around my neck I can't get a finger hold. My neck healed almost instantly. It leaves me to wonder if my head was to detach if I would heal like Deadpool or die like Conner McCloud. I guess couple days ago I would not have cared but now seeing that I have this new power I kind of want to experience life from a new perspective. How the fuck am I going to get down from here? I can hear Slip frantic upstairs. He is making me crazy knowing that I have not only condemned him to starvation but myself to listen to him. Why on earth can I not get a signal down here....\n\n\n*Noted*\n\n\nSiri, take note: \n\n* What would you like the note to say *\n\nDay 3:\n\nBattery on the phone is getting low. Not sure even turning it off will yield more than two more days. Should be interesting looking back on this if the beam above or this wire ever gives out. I guess at some point someone will come by. Jesus, my dog is fucking starving upstairs. I don't care about myself anymore. I have to figure out how to get out of this self inflicted hell. \n\n*Noted*\n\n\nSiri, take note: \n\n* What would you like the note to say *\n\nDay 4: There is lot of noise next door. If I could only yell but the wire noose is so tight now I am unable to even breathe. It seems it is not required. I was able to throw my shoe at the basement door and knock it open. Slip is now laying at my feet whimpering. He has lost a lot of weight. He will not leave no matter what I do. I wish I could get him to Lassie me out of this hell.\n\n*Noted*\n\nSiri, take note: \n\n* What would you like the note to say *\n\n\nDay 5: Slip is slipping from me. He is passed out or in a coma or something. Even hunger has not been able to drive him away. How could I have been so stupid. Why didn't I let my sister have him. Damn dog. I just wish there was something I could do. The power just went out. Wonder what that is about. There it came back on must just be all the people using heaters. \n\n*Noted*\n\nDay 6: Figured I would round this out. The power outage rebooted my new neighbors wireless router to factory defaults. God bless those shitty netgear routers and I was able to connect. Sent a frantic text to my sister for a very needed helping hand. Would you believe that she cut me down with a dremel of all things. Turns out I did not have to explain anything to her as the secret of her looking so young for all these years exploded in my mind when she opened the basement door. I was also told that my older brother Jackson did not actually go missing in Fuji surfing. He was just having trouble explaining his seemingly endless youth. Apparently my parents are also alive living somewhere in Patagonia. My life has been one big lie. \n\nPs. Slip made a full recovery and is on a stable diet of double cheeseburgers and belly rubs.\n\n\n", "(First go at posting here be gentle!)\n\nIt was there in the shadows, the thing I needed most. Once again it rang that damnable song it's screen flashing bright in contrast to the dark. And still I swayed gently side to side. My leg twitched, sending my body into another spiral as I tried to hold in the curses that longed to spew from my mouth. \n\nI looked down the length of my body to Once again look at the stool that was just to the right of my feet. It could be no more than 2-3 inches away. And still I waited. Someone would have to come eventually. But there the question lay, how would I explain to them what I barely understood myself? \n\nSoon the haze of morning light began creeping through the Windows of the 4th day I had been here in this position. Soon the morning sun drifted through the sky as the world went about it's way. Slowly the hours shifted into the afternoon. I was beginning to get ravenously hungry staring at the fridge by way of a small mirror. \n\nIt was then the first knock sounded on the door, then a second. I realized in this moment it was no fantasy the thing I had been waiting for was happening. I began to flail and groan with all the might I had left. However little it was. \n\n\"Police! We are here for a welfare check on a miss. Renee.\". I struggled to reach out and knock anything over when I spun and spotted the lamp. I struck my foot out at it and with a thump it fell to the floor. \n\nI heard some mumbling, and soon they spoke sweeter words than had ever been spoken. \n\n\"Miss we're coming in!\" \n\nSoon the door was busted in at a weird angle and the officers climbed through the gap they had managed to create. When they both turned and spotted me. They turned and stared. I imagined I was fright hanging from the rafters with a rope around my neck. The disgusting smells I am sure I emanated from the days that defecating and urinating on myself would cause. \n\nI motioned my hand Towards my neck with a gasp hoping they would understand the need I had to be released from the self- inflicted purgatory.\n\nIt seemed to throw them in a flurry of motion, one of the officers headed towards the kitchen to grab a knife while the other grabbed a chair to place under my feet. \n\nSoon they had me released and then the volley of questions began.I gave them the simplest of answers, I hung myself this morning, and I didn't do it right. So as to explain how I could be hanging alive.\n\n How would I begin to explain that I had heard my neck snap and that I had awoken two hours later still hanging. The only conclusion I could come up with was immortality as I gently swayed freshly alive from killing myself. \n\n", "This one is for the HIGHLANDER fans-\n\nI always knew I was different. Never fitting in...growing up a ward of the state. Never knowing where I came from. An orphan,alone against the world from the very beginning. Upon turning 18 and heading out into the world I had tried to make a go of it,but nothing ever seemed to work out. Last week,The only girl I had ever tried to love had left me and after an epic night of binge drinking I had decided to wander into the woods and kill myself. I slung a rope over the tallest tree branch I could find,tied the other end around my neck,and....jumped. The last thing I heard was the crack of my own neck and then everything went black...until I woke up. That was four days ago,and I've been swinging here ever since. I keep trying to call for help,but the rope around my neck is pretty tight and its hard to make much sound.\n\nSuddenly...I feel it. That odd sensation that had plagued me all my life. That vague feeling of unease...as if someone were watching me. I usually felt it in crowds,or when I was traveling,and had always chalked it up to anxiety but now....I swear,its almost like I could FEEL someone,just at the edges of my perception. I managed to croak out a weak cry for help...and heard someone stomping through the trees below me. I couldnt see who it was,due to the rope and the angle of my neck,but suddenly the woods were filled with the strangers laughter. \"Hold on squirt...I'll get you down\". The man began to climb the tree,and suddenly I felt the rope snap as I plunged to the ground. Oh god...what if the fall kills me? A silly thing to think,considering the circumstances,but I was sober now and thoughts of suicide were the furthest thing from my mind. I just wanted to go home and forget this had ever happened. Still laughing,my savior jumped down from the tree and landed beside me.\n\n\"Thank you\"...I managed to croak. He offered me his hand and pulled me up. \"What the hell were you doing up there kid? Did somebody string you up like that? You get caught stealing somebodies chickens or sleeping with somebodies girl?\". Miraculously,my neck didnt even hurt....now that the rope was gone,I felt better than ever. With my voice returned,I explained rather sheepishly that I had been trying to kill myself. \"Kill yourself?\",the stranger proclaimed...\"How the hell did you think that would kill yourself? It would take more than that to take your head off!\". Take my head off? What the hell? Didnt this idiot understand? Seeing the look of confusion on my face,he laughed again...darker this time. \"Holy hell boy....you dont even know what you are,do you? That was your first death!\". And then he tells me. He tells me...finally...what I am and where I come from. He tells me of rules and holy ground...of swords and something called a Quickening. He tells me his name,and that he has been alive and roaming this earth for 400 years. And as crazy as it all sounds...I believe him. With tears in my eyes...I believe him. I finally know who I am. I finally know where I belong. And then...he pulls out a sword from his long coat,and tells me there can be only one. Only one what,I wonder? As I turn to ask, I see his sword coming right for me,and then everything goes black again.", "\"ABDUAGYRHWGUWDYTHGAHDGBH!!\"\n\nThe girl ran away screaming. I couldn't do much about it, with the giant hole in the back of my throat and all.\n\nSigh. Maybe I should of used rope?", "This is just stupid now. Credit where credit is due, the guy who hung this ceiling fan did an impressive job. I've been spinning in slow circles for a while now, and no amount of struggle dislodged the damn thing. Oh man will my neck be sore after this, but to be fair my back feels amazing now.\n\nIt's also amazing, how hanging by your neck can change your whole perspective. I can't even remember what drove me to that depth, it felt so distant. Sure I was down, but I knew how to rationalize. And clearly this took at least a bit of forethought to accomplish, it couldn't have been a momentary fugue.\n\nI could see my phone on the coffee table, that I shifted a few inches over to be out of the way. I didn't have anything of use in my pockets, I wondered if I could make something out of my belt and pants to grab it from here. Yes, let's make this even weirder for the person who sees me first. Hope it's not the cute neighbor.\n\nI wish I would've worn real shoes for this, shoelaces would be handy right about now. could I use the sole of these to wear out this rope? Wait! Maybe I could use my belt to pull myself up and get out of this noose! I scramble to pull my belt free of its loops, and my baggy pants fell off like a sheet. Damnit. Note to self, buy some clothes that fit.\n\nI had to pee, badly, I really need to get out of this fast. I tried to pull myself up but I didn't have much arm strength. Definitely not enough to hold myself up with one hand, and use the other on the noose. Gee, maybe if I ever hit the gym I'd be able to do this, with the side benefit of enough self-worth to not be in this situation in the first place.\n\nHell, at this point, let the girl next door see me, I don't really care. In a few minutes I'll be pissing lazy circles in my living room. Do I have the dexterity to write a note, with the yellow cursive we joked about as kids? Oh this sucks so bad.\n\nA realization hit me. I had a card with a serrated edge. In my wallet. In my pants. I couldn't moan in disgust, somehow I deserve this for that alone. Stupid stupid stupid. Am I gonna be up here until I fall asleep? And will I wake up the next day, in slow circles? Will the fan ever break free? No, I'm gonna memorize the order of books on the top shelf while I pee on the bottom.\n\nAt this point, the only thing I can say for sure is that I'm *never* doing this again. Sigh.", "*What the flying fuck is going on?* I wondered. There I stood... well, hung by the neck rather, contemplating my newly discovered immortality. Just moments ago, I was finished. To weak to carry on. My wife had left me, my dealer refused to go near me now due to my occasional outbursts, and I was estranged from my family, I had no one, nothing, not even any will to carry on. So, I did what countless other hopeless saps before me did, I set up a pretty noose in my garage, set a stool below it, put on the noose and jumped. One thing was missing though. The infinite relief that only sweet death could give me. It wouldn't come. I couldn't breath, and at first, that had led to the inevitable panic that always comes with being unable to breath, but soon, I realised that it wasn't killing me. Shit, I didn't even feel dizzy.\n\nWhat will I do with myself now? I'm ruined in life, and death wouldn't come. God must be a sadistic bastard, denying death to someone who needs it so desperately.\n\nBut maybe I don't. Maybe I overreacted. I can start over, rebuild, live a new life and forget the old! Maybe there is a God, and he wants me to carry on! Maybe I'm destined for greatness! Only one way to find out, and that was to go out and live life, not waste it by feeding the noose.\n\nBut one little problem stood in my way. I can't get down from here. \n\n*Oh, shit* I thought, reaching to pluck my phone from my back pocket. I entered my password, and pressed on the contacts icon. Who do I call? Mom and dad? No way. My Ex? Even worse. My therapist? No, she would shit bricks. Eddie? Sure, I suppose I have to call someone.\n\n\"Hello\" Eddie said\n\n\"Hey Ed, do I ever have a story for you.....\"", "She answered up the phone on the third ring. I wasn't really that surprised. With how much I hated talking on the phone, we'd always had a sort of understanding that my face on her caller ID meant something had gone wrong. \n\nThe phone stuck awkwardly to the side of my face, my head forced to an odd angle by the rope knotted neatly behind my left ear, snot and tears from the hours of contemplation beforehand coating my cheek. \"Hello,\" I rasped, rough hemp gripping at my windpipe, \"hope I'm not interrupting.\"\n\nOf course I was. Three years and she was still my emergency contact. Three years of awkward first dates, curled up in the corners of the cacophonous hellholes that some people called clubs. Three years that I knew she'd spent with some other man, some other men, some parade of interesting, mature, well-off, poetically souled men. Three years I had spent knowing that maybe I could have just done something differently.\n\nTherapy didn't work.\n\nOne night stands didn't work.\n\nI could hear him in the background, them, all of them. The clink of knives, the ceaseless bass of dance clubs, the damning silence of her lips pressed against his, all come through the phone behind her simple hello. Behind the concern in her voice. Behind the unasked '*What's gone wrong now?*' of her greeting. \n\n\"James,\" she said quietly, already her voice sounding more and more distant as my mind drifted further into memory, \"please not this again. Tell me you're ok.\"\n\nI was not. \n\nI will not be.\n\nI let the phone drop from my hand, along with the crumpled note I had hastily scrawled, and waited.\n\nSomeone would find me eventually. \n\nThey always did.\n\nAfter all. This was our anniversary. She should be used to this by now.", "So uh, where do I start?\n\nIt was for the kids, that was the idea at least. Stephanie and I split ways a few years back. I know what you're thinking and no, it wasn't adultery. We had just drifted apart, her and I. She felt like I just wasn't growing up, that she was getting older without me. Truth be told I was aging remarkably well, I still get carded when I buy booze, not bad for thirty five eh?\n\nBut she split and she took the kids. I still get to see them, get a lot of time with them actually, and Stephanie is moving on, she's dating some guy now. Chuck's okay, treats her good, he's good to the kids, and that's what really matters, and to top it all off him and I get along pretty well too.\n\nAs for me I'm... Well, I'm kind of stuck. Sure I make good money, you don't have the welding certifications I do and not make good money, but I feel like I'm not progressing, not getting anywhere. I've just been going through the motions, for what, a year? Two? I don't know, but it was my physical that was long over due, so imagine my surprise when the doc found stage four colon cancer.\n\nI was devastated.\n\nDoc said I'd have a few months at the most. They wanted to start me on chemo that day, but I didn't have the guts. I needed to go home and think about it. Process. That's when I remembered the life insurance. My profession isn't the most dangerous, but injuries aren't uncommon either, and the life insurance I've got is pretty great, covers everything, AD&D, illness, even suicide. I decided I'd save myself the months of agony and end it right then.\n\nDon't ask me where I got them, but four cyanide capsules later I was mildly uncomfortable. I drank a gallon of bleach, and let me tell you that shit is disgusting. And the shits I got after, wow. I figured maybe I was doing it all wrong, maybe I've got a stomach made of iron, but it's hard to argue with physics. So I tied up the noose, heavy cable, got on top of the loft and jumped down. The fall was a little over ten feet, and I've seen enough westerns to know it takes a lot less than that to break a neck, but I'm still here. It's been a few hours. Honestly it isn't bad. Sure, it's uncomfortable, and I'm bored.\n\nBut hey, on the plus side I'm pretty sure I pooped out the tumor.\n\nI couldn't get a grip to climb back up the cable. Thankfully I had my cellphone in my pocket. So I dialed my ex. No answer, she's probably still at work. Patrick was out of state, John didn't have a car. One option, I guess. I dialed Stephanie's boyfriend.\n\n\"Hey Chuck.\"\n\n\"What can I do for you James?\"\n\n\"Well...\" How to answer? \"I'm kind of in a pickle, I need help with something at my house. Think you could swing by?\"\n\n\"No problem, are you doing all right?\"\n\nI hesitated. \"I've been better but I think I'll survive.\"\n\n\"No problem, I'll be right over. Don't go anywhere!\"\n\n\"I'll be here, just let yourself in.\"\n\n\"No problem, hang in there bud.\"\n\n\"...Yeah.\"", "It wasn't supposed to go down this way. I left the suicide note, I called in sick from my 9 to 5 and already cashed out my accounts. Now all I can focus on is trying to swing myself to kick out the window. \n\nLiving alone in my apartment meant means no roommates to check on me and all the neighbors are either high or elderly. Keep focusing on the momentum moron, your almost there. The rope is starting to chaff, if I would have known this was going to happen I would have paid for the 40 roll instead. There, one more solid kick and....nice. Now I just yell for a few hours, figure out how to get myself out of this mess. Oh hey there is the mailman now.", "My name is Joe, and I am sick and tired of this world. I am tired of working at a dead end job, I am sick of not having anybody that really cares, and mostly I'm sick of my failed suicide attempts. I'm sick of the gun jamming or the trains stopping, this time I can do it right! \n\nI went out earlier today, more cheerful than usual! You see this time I know exactly how to kill myself! I went to the hardware store and bought some rope, and even tipped the guy working $50, because well I won't need it where I'm going. \n\nOn my walk back to my apartment, I ran into my neighbor, and had an actual conversation with him. His name's Jerry, and he's actually super nice! His wife and him were unloading a new mattress, but I guess that didn't matter much to me where I'm going. \n\nI climb up the couple flights of stairs, and unlock my door, to my small apartment! I tie the rope around my neck, and I am prepared to kick the bucket. The bucket falls under my feet, and finally I can feel the sweet relief of life leaving me, but then I feel my heart start pumping again. I dangle from my ceiling like a pinata at a child's birthday, but pinata's usual wear smiles not frowns. I wait there for a little bit, but I start to get hungry. I call Big Rico's pizza and place an order for a small pepperoni pie and request the driver just let himself in.\n\nAfter 31 minutes exactly, I hear a knock at my door. The dumb delivery kid couldn't have obeyed my one instructions, I holler form the ceiling that it's open. My front door opens and I wave the kid in, who was startled by a man hanging from the ceiling. I request that he cut the rope for me, because I didn't have any friends or family to help cut the rope, and I figured that I could get pizza and out of this pickle in one sitting. After much persuading, and offering a generous tip to the kid, he finally went to my kitchen and got a knife. \n\nAfter he cut me down, I got my wallet out and gave him the remainder of the cash I had in there, and he left.\n\nI ate my pie, and lamented about still being alive, but at least I know one thing! There's always tomorrow! ", "Preface: My first time on one of these, and I found it hard to bring about an end, so it's a bit of a cliff-hanger. Also, didn't expect it to become so religious, so I'm sorry if anyone is offended. Please enjoy!\n\nMy view slowly panned around my apartment, like a virtual tour giving a 360-degree picture of the layout for the next potential renter. Something was wrong. I’d been so careful, making sure every detail was covered. And now, I found myself levitating above the floor of my apartment, spinning in a slow circle with a rope tied to my neck, like some fucked up Christmas ornament. It was torture. I could see everything that I was so ready to leave behind. My desk came in to view, and I could see the letter I’d left there for whoever was to discover this scene. I was so sure this would do the trick. I even heard the crack as the rope tensed around my neck after I kicked the chair back.\n\nI hung, puzzled, as the rope took me for another complete spin. When I came back around to my desk, I couldn’t believe my eyes. A stranger sat in my desk chair, staring at me with a wry smile on his face.\n\n“You find this funny?” I asked, surprised that this was the first question I had for the mystery man. While my voice sounded like I was being choked, my breath was still coming with surprising ease.\n\nMy question prompted audible laughter from the stranger. He was well-dressed, wearing a charcoal grey suit with a white shirt and no tie. He had a bushy beard and long hair, which hid his more subtle facial features and made it difficult to guess his age. I pegged him at about thirty-five, maybe as old as forty.\n\n“Only slightly!” he said once his laughter subsided.\n\n“Who are you?”\n\n“All in good time. What are you doing?”\n\n“Neck stretches. What the hell does it look like I’m doing?”\n\n“Wasting precious time.” The stranger spoke in an intriguing manner.\n\n“Well, can you help me get down from…?” Before I could finish, the rope had disappeared and I collapsed on the floor, at the feet of the mysterious stranger. \n\n“I’m dead, right?” I asked, desperately. “I mean, this must have worked. I’m dead and you’re here to bring me to the afterlife. That’s the only explanation.”\n\n“Far from dead, my friend. You remember earlier this week when you were in the basement of your parents’ house, and you pulled the trigger on your dad’s old handgun with your mouth on the barrel, and it jammed?”\n\n“…the hell? Who are you?” I asked, more demanding than before.\n\n“And how about after your girlfriend left, and you swallowed that bottle of prescription pills? That should have been more than enough, but you ended up with nothing more than a bad stomachache and a night of hugging the porcelain. Aren’t you curious as to why you can’t seem to shuffle yourself off the mortal coil?”\n\nI was too shocked to respond. This man knew all the intimate details of the pain I’d been going through, and seemed to have been watching my every move. Before this conversation, I’d tried to logically explain all of the failed attempts I’d experienced. But this man seemed poised to tell me a different story.\n\n“And it goes well beyond this past month of what you believe is ‘horrible pain’ that’s driving you to the point of suicide. Remember when you were six, your mother lost track of you when you wandered into the middle of traffic? A man pulled you out of the way of an oncoming bus mere seconds before you would have been struck.”\n\n“How do you know all of this?”\n\n“I was that man.”\n\n“Holy shit. Have you been following me all this time? I mean, that was twenty-two years ago!”\n\n“Well, it’s a little deeper than that. I chose you that day. On that day, you became different than the rest. Selected for a higher purpose. I made you an immortal.”\n\n“No. No, no, no, that’s ridiculous. I’m either dead, or I’m asleep and this is a dream.”\n\nThe stranger hauled off and slapped me in the face.\n\n“What the hell?! Jesus, man! That hurt!”\n\n“Not dreaming, and not dead. And, I’m getting tired of the language. If you’re not dead, and not in a dream, I know intimate details of your life, I just told you I chose you and made you immortal…I mean, is it not obvious who I am yet?”\n\nI stared blankly at him, still in shock from the hard slap. I could feel a mark being left across my right cheek.\n\n“Really?! Come on! The omnipotence? The beard and long hair? I am Who am ring any bells? The way, the truth, and the light? Immortal Godhead three-in-one? I am the Lord.”\n\n“Jesus…” I muttered in disbelief.\n\n“Exactly. Now you’re catching on. Man, you’re slow.”\n\n“Well, why are you dressed like that? The Jesus I know from the stories was born into swaddling clothes, and as a man you wore robes and sandals? How do I know you’re not a dangerous, crazy fraud?”\n\n“Come on, man, it’s the 21st century. Macy’s exists, and I know every good tailor in the world. AND I just dropped you from your final resting place by making a rope disappear into thin air, after getting in to your apartment without even unlocking or opening the door. Do we really have to keep doing this? You have to have a little faith.”\n\nIn that moment, what little Catholic was left in me began to come to life again. I started comprehending that there was something beyond \nlogical explanation happening here. “Why me?”\n\n“I’ve chosen you, so you are special. You’re here to do something more. I’m not going to tell you what that is, in fact I’m only intervening right now because I need you stop wasting time and get to it. There’s work to be done.”\n\nWill I ever get rest from the torture of being alive? I thought to myself as to not offend my honored company. Even in the middle of this \nstrange encounter, I was still thinking like a depressed person.\n\n“I’ll call you when you’ve completed the mission, and you will join me in the hereafter. You will have your peace one day.” I had so quickly forgotten who I was with; of course he knew what I was thinking.\n\n“I need you to learn how to get outside yourself. The reason you feel such severe pain from all your failures and trials in life is because a long time ago you stopped caring about anything but you. The universe is much bigger than you. I’ll reveal more as time goes on, and eventually, you’ll learn what your situation is all about, why you’ve been given this gift. You are not alone. I’ve been around for all of existence, finding the special ones who will be able to utilize the gift for the greater good.”\n\n“Anyone I know?” I’d almost forgotten that only moments ago, I was in a completely broken state. Maybe it was from finding out about my gift of immortality, or maybe it was the fact that I was conversing with the King of kings, but I was feeling much better.\n\nHe broke into laughter once again, this time nearly hysterical. “Oh, my goodness gracious, no! This isn’t something I just give to anyone. Across the entire planet, there are four of you, and a grand total of 12 in the entire universe.”\n\n“Universe?”\n\n“Yes. I created everything, seen and unseen. While scarce, there are other races of intelligent life forms which I’ve created. They are out there, beyond your galaxy. You are highly unlikely to ever come in to contact with one of the others; however, if you do, they will reveal themselves to you as such. You will know your brothers in arms.”\n\n“So…what now?”\n\n“Well, I’ve just revealed a lot of knowledge to you that the masses will never and can’t ever know. So let’s start by promising you’ll stop with these futile attempts to kill yourself. There’s a lot to do, and it will all be revealed to you in time. So, why don’t you get yourself a glass of water and calm down? The next steps and the pace in which they happen are up to me.”\n\n“Okay, sounds good.” Without even thinking about it, I walked out of the common area of my apartment in to the cramped kitchen, grabbed a glass and began to fill it at the sink. “So, was that whole Roswell thing real, then? I mean, you said there are others out there, and that’s the closest we’ve come to seeing it. At least we think so. It’s a pretty hotly debated topic, a lot of people think it…” I turned the corner with my half full glass of water to find that my new friend had disappeared. In place of the suicide letter I’d left on my desk was a new letter. It read simply:\n\n“Trust my methods, and be patient. It will all make sense in time.”\n", "\"So.\" \nLuis stood on tip toe and plucked at the rope. \n\"*Urgghh*\" I tried to answer. Nothing came out, except a little dribble of spit. Because that's what I needed. \n\"Suicide, huh?\" Luis asked, now standing behind me. \"A little pathetic, don't you think?\" \n\"*UUUGGGG*\" I sputter. \n\"Still though. You should be dead.\"\nA loosening around my throat was the only warning I got before I fell unceremoniously on the floor. Deep breath. My chest exploded in pain and I immediately began screaming. I eventually began coughing and then turned aside to vomit. Luis took a quick double step back out of thew way. He always had a way of avoiding trouble. \n\"Hey Gary. So what's the story? You get dumped and you try to kill yourself?\" he kicks me in the back a little lightly. \nI can barely remember myself. I sit up and look down at myself. Vomit and pee stained my jeans. *Wow, I look like shit...* \n\"I had a couple of drinks at Mulligan's.\" I started. \n\"Oh yea. I heard about that. Jim called and said you were a dirty fucking drunk and needed someone to drag you out to - and I quote - any fucking shit heap else.\" \nThat sounded about right. \n\"Yea, well I came home and tried to kill myself. It didn't take though.\" \nLuis just looked at me. I looked away and started peeling my shirt off. It felt like I couldn't catch my breath.\nHe stood up and went over to look at the rope. \n\"What do you mean, it didn't take?\"\n\"I don't know. I kicked the chair off and suffocated.\" My memory was hazy, but something like this, it doesn't go away. \"I died. I think I died. But then I woke up. Everything hurt but I couldn't do anything about it. So I called the last person on my phone and it was you. Good thing you still have your key, huh?\" \nHe smiles faintly, but doesn't say anything.\n\"You know.\" He finally says, \"I almost didn't come. I thought it was some kind of trick to get me to come here.\" He headed towards the door. \"But you're not dead. You tried to kill yourself but you're not dead.\" \nHe takes out a keyring, and carefully pulls a key out of it. I watched, mesmerized. This wasn't exactly going according to plan. \n\"I know about the immortality, you know. I know you can't die.\" He threw the key on the ground, in the middle of the puke. \n\"We're not getting back together, Gary.\" I felt my heart seize in my chest. \"Don't try this again. I'm not gonna run back to you, just because you're projecting pathetic. We're over. Sorry.\" \nI sat there a while staring at the key. I was sure it would work. I was sure he would stay, take care of me. I don't know when I started crying.", "Hey dad?\n\"What is it Noodrscootr, you caught me at a bad time as usual\"\nWell I don't really know how to say this but I tried to kill myself and now I'm hanging by a noose but I'm not dead.\n\"What the fuck how stupid are you? Why would you try to kill yourself? How are you not dead and is this some joke cause this is one of the unfunniest things you have ever done.\"\n\nNo dad this isn't a joke just come cut me down please or else I'll just hang here for a while. I meant to leave a note on my phone but I'm not so sure I can die anymore so that's out the window\n\"Are you high right now I have important work that needs to be done\"\nLook dad I know how I am usually but this isn't a joke. I don't want anyone in the family to come and I think you should see this. If you don't come I'll be hanging here and if you do, you'll see it for yourself.\n\"Alright well this is ridiculous but if you insist. I'll be over soon. I'm gonna kill you if this is a waste of time.\"\nHey dad?\n\"What is it\"\nI love you and I'm sorry. If this went awry and I ended up dead, I would've regretted it.\nAlso I'm sorry.\n\"Look Noodrscootr, you're my son and I love you. If you actually died and I never got to see you again I don't know how I would live. I know I'm tough but it's because my father died when I was young. Please just hang tight I'll be there soon.\"\n*laughs* hey dad I see you don't lose that sense of humor even when it's serious\n*dad laughs* \"look I'll be over soon.\"\nI love you dad\n\"I love you too\"\n*click*", "I swung back and forth on the banister, hoping that somehow I could break it and get down. The noose, unfortunately and expertly tied might I add, held snug to my neck as I kicked my feet. I raised my eyes to the ceiling, quietly asking for help I knew would not come. That is, after all, why I decided to wear this dastardly neck tie in the first place. \n\nAs I closed my eyes and hung my head, great pun, I'm gonna remember that one, I heard a creak in the wood floor below. Standing beneath me was a ruggedly handsome young man, about mid 20's with deep olive skin and bright blue eyes that seemed too wise for words. He seemed like one of those good looking hipster band guys. \n\n \"Um, hi.\" I said, face gleaming red at this awkward predicament. \n\n\"Hello Andy\" replied the stranger, hands in his coat pocket. \n\n\"How..wuh...how do you know my name?\" I managed to stutter out.\n\n\"I know a lot about you, you're one of my favorites actually.\" he said with a small,kind smile on his face. \n\n\"What do you mean?!\" I panicked. Was this guy some stalker? A pervert? Would he buy my clothes? I ignored that last thought, but being a broke college student makes you pretty desperate for cash. \n\n\"I mean you will do great things in this world.\" he answered, swinging his wrist in a lazy flicking motion. \"Normally, I am not allowed to interfere, but for you I had to make an exception.\"\n\nSuddenly, the rope began to slack and dropped me down to the floor. \n\n\"You must live, you are a beacon of light in this very bleak world. \" the stranger said, a sad tone tinting into his voice as he looked upon my pathetic form. \n\nAs I rose to my feet, I bowed my head and cried. Tears of shame, and weakness, and every other emotion that was tearing my soul apart. I felt hand on my shoulder, and as I looked, I only found thin air. I wandered the streets for a while, looking for the stranger. Quesstions and other thoughts buzzed in my mind like a beehive on crank. Who was he? How'd he do that? Where did he find those cool pants? But most of all, I wanted to thank him. As I had come down from the rope I realized that he was right. I had to live. I had to make this world better. ", "*This could have gone better.* Dave thought as he twisted, his body hanging from the noose he'd improvised out of neckties and nylon cord. Neither was rated strong enough to suspend a human body for long, but Dave hadn't anticipated hanging himself would take more than a few minutes. Ten, tops.\n\nAn hour after he'd bid the cruel world goodbye and kicked the stool out from under him, the ties and cord stubbornly hung on, as did Dave. The surprise he'd felt at living without air faded after about ten minutes. He'd squirmed and coughed and spat as the \"rope\" sank nylon and silk poly-blend fangs into his flesh and he writhed in horrendous, burning pain until it got boring. He'd then hung in awkward silence from the rafters in his bedroom, occasionally gasping as saliva built up in his mouth and trying to deal with the dull surprise at, literally, failing to kill himself. \n\nAnimal panic had taken over then as he floundered, desperately trying it live, *live!* But, after twenty minutes of flailing, Dave realized something was amiss. No-one should have survived this much hanging, at least without suffering something more severe than a mild headache and bruising on the neck. Well, he also had to pee, but one thing at a time. Why was he still alive? Had he failed that badly? He reached up and tugged on the rope to see if it was a weakness in the knot, but it was pulled so tight he couldn't dig beneath the bulging skin, so that seemed right. But maybe it wasn't cutting off his air so, as a test, he held his breath for some minutes and, aside from the annoying burning in his chest, nothing changed. Only after another ten minutes of Dave-enforced airlessness when the throbbing stopped and with it, his heart, did Dave decide to take more drastic measures and get himself down.\n\nHe dangled in the middle of his messy room out of reach of anything to assist him. Looking about with bleary, bloodshot eyes, he saw that there, on his desk, was his phone. Luckily, he'd thought to unlock it before committing suicide in case any of his friends wanted to check his messages and stitch together his story. He reached out with his toe, barely managing to wake up the phone. Straining to the utmost, he could just reach the “call” app. His vision blurred beyond the ability to see, he mashed wildly with his feet, flashing through screens and meaningless icons until he heard ringing. \n\nHis heart stopped (metaphorically) in his chest as one ring turned to two. Then three. Then four, and then, just as hope left him, there was a *click*.\n\n“I told you not to call me, again, asshole.” Melissa's angry voice greeted him.\n\n“*Glurb! Blurgle!* He said, his voicebox squished nearly into paste by continuous high-pressure.\n\n“Are you...are you crying? God, you are such a loser. I don't care how desperate you are,”\n\n“*Glurg!*” Dave glurged, desperately.\n\n“I don't care!” She screeched, the phone's tinny speakers barely bringing it to his ears. “Go away!”\n\nThere was a *click* and Dave screamed at the phone but the purity of his fury was dissipated by the fact he sounded like a drowning goose. Then he cried, but the sobs only hurt his chest so he quickly stopped and tried to think of what to do. He couldn't stay up there forever. He would have to try another method of suicide and, at any rate, the blood that was denied access to his brain was pooling elsewhere. The warnings from Viagra commercials about erections lasting longer than four hours were sounding in his ears, impelling him to act. Maybe he wanted to end his life, but now that he was stuck living, he was damned if anything bad was going to happen to Little Dave.\n\nLooking around with a new sense of determination, Dave saw that he first needed to get his feet under something solid. His desk was close and, with a bit of luck, if he could swing onto it, maybe, *maybe* he could get his feet under him and stand again. He tried to swing but, without any way to centre his weight, nothing happened. Squirming helped a little, and then, through trial and error, he settled on wildly flailing his arms to achieve some back and forth motion. Little Dave bravely pointed the way forward. He was getting somewhere! Success was imminent!\n\nThen, he heard the front door unlock as Marshall, his roommate, came home.\n\nHis roommate. Who would, as he had a thousand time before, go into the kitchen to drop his keys. Once there, he would see the suicide note Dave left him. And who, upon reading the note, would run upstairs, expecting to find Dave dead. Instead, he would find Dave very much alive, and while that would be an occasion for some joy, it was imperative that he not find Dave hanging from the ceiling with a full-blown erection. “Why”, was self-explanatory.\n\nWith determination verging on reckless fury, he swung his arms like a power-walker on meth, setting his body in rough arcs towards his desk. The rafters groaned and the ceiling shed flakes of drywall from the hole he'd cut, but Dave's ear was instead turned towards what was happening downstairs.\n\n“Anyone home?” Marshall yelled. “Dave?”\n\n*Shit*, thought Dave. He swung harder and the beam groaned more, the drywall snowfall becoming a blizzard.\n\n“Holy...Dave!” Dave heard Marshall yell. “What the hell! Dave!” \n\nMarshall's feet pounded up the stairs and Dave swung harder, waving his arms in full, wild circles. His foot touched the desk, and slipped. On the next arc, he gripped, held it, and then slipped. Drawing in all his determination (and fear), he swung once more as Marshall made it to the top of the stairs.\n\nThere was a groaning, grinding *crack* as something above him gave way and Dave, flailing, flew through the air. He landed on the desk and the Ikea manufacturing, as sub-contracted to a drunken Dave several years ago, gave way. Stunned, but not particularly injured, Dave could only turn his head to the door as Marshall burst through.\n\n“Hey man,” Dave croaked from the ruins of his desk, his pants tented by an enormous erection and his makeshift rope still draped around his neck. “What's up?”\n\nHe got the call three weeks later.", "\"Hey, dude, come in here!\"\n\n\"What? I'm busy!\"\n\n\"Just for a second, I need a little help!\"\n\nAlex rolled her eyes as she stepped into the room. She'd been surprisingly accepting of my immortality - a true friend. She had even found a therapist for me and started spending time at my house to keep me occupied.\n\n\"Is this about that app again?\"\n\n\"Please! I can't get three stars on this level, and Om Nom has to get that candy!\"", "What... What the hell...!? I fumble my hands down my pants to grab the phone, it's a Nokia 3310... \n\nWhat the ropes did not do, this phone will see through.\n\nOne after one the muscles activate to accelerate the phone in it's journey crushing into my temple.\n\nWhat should've cracked my skull, cleaved atoms by the billions, and what should have been a suicide, left me alone in space with my phone.", "*ring ring ring*\n\n\"Hey man\"\n\n\"Nothing much....just hanging around\"\n\n\"Watch the game at 5? Yea sure, I'm down.\"\n\n\"Can you come pick me up?\"\n\n\"Ok cool. Bring some scissors.\"\n\n\"Because I was trying to master my new magic trick and accidentally tied a rope around my neck and hung myself\"\n\n\"Yea I know I'm an idiot. Take your time I'm not going anywhere\"", "Yes, I remember that day so well.\n*trippy frame transition into flashback mode*\n\"Charles!\" Dammit, no answer. \"Margaret, Samuel, Timmy, Joey, Louisa, fucking Cornelius!\" Damn it all to hell, somebody answer. Well, with all this yelling the only way that sorry excuse for a matron didn't hear me was if they were all out. Typical, out and about gallivanting through town on another Gideon-free excursion. I wonder if it's ice cream this time or maybe a trip to the park; perhaps they are just out in the courtyard playing chess. Oh, how I love chess, even if the one time I played Matron Robertson slammed my head against the wall for having too much fun. The tactics, the possibilities, the timeless battle of the wits drew me in that day. I usually watched the other boys and girls play in the courtyard, but that day I played. I orchestrated coups and head on charges. I directed comrades to their death in the name of the King. I lost good men too, soldiers that had done nothing but follow orders. A savage game, war, one that must be fought, not played. In a game, you can start over. In a war, nay in life, sacrifices must be made.\n\nThat brings me back to earlier this morning. Today was a special day, for me at least. It was the 17th of March. Here, they called it my other birthday. Privately, I called it my death day. It was the day I came upon this wretched place, this house for unwanted or otherwise cumbersome children. On this special \"death\" day, I was summoned to Matron for something or other; if I was lucky, it would only be verbal scolding. I wasn't lucky. Two bloody ears later, I returned to my nook, trailing a faint smell of alcohol that stuck to my tattered shirt that Matron so ungraciously tattered even further.\n\nI was done. I was finally, decidedly, done. I had played my pawns as forward as they could go, attempted to flank the enemy with my trusty knights; my poor bishops and rooks didn't even know what hit them. Alas, at long last, my queen, my pride and strength, had been vanquished. It was checkmate. I tipped my king, and kicked the stool away.\n\nI closed my eyes.\n\nI waited.\n\nI waited.\n\nI opened my eyes, wondering what the hell did I do wrong? I couldn't breathe, I felt my circulation being cut off, I was having trouble thinking. And yet, there I dangled, still alive. I had seen this done in those grisly old movies all the time. But here I was. Stuck...\n\n*snaps back to present time*\n\nDamn, that was one hell of a day, yeh? They had to fucking call the ambulance because Matron passed out from seeing my purple little mug glaring at her haha. Yeah, I remember that day, the day I found out I couldn't die. I kind of wish I hadn't, because I did what any normal human woulda done: test every possible situation that would normally kill me. Drugs, bullets, even bullets moving at a high velocity, knives, they don't do shit. I cut off appendages, even my head that one time back in Tegucigalpa *chuckles*, but they just came back. I never die; it hurts a lot, but I don't die. And yeah, I play the hero every once in a while. You know, run into burning buildings or dive headfirst into stormy waters. But nothing gave me solace. Nothing gave me peace.\n\nI've had fun avoiding you pricks for the past few years, but damn y'all government types are persistent. I've been playing a lot of chess, you know. I've always liked chess. I've lost my entire force, and now I'm ready to do the right thing; I'm ready to make that sacrifice for the greater good, just like all of my brave soldiers did for me. I'm ready.\nAgent: \"Thank you, now if you'll follow me then we'll have a police escort take you to the test site. You are doing a great favor to humanity, remember that.\"\nAw go to hell.", "Resisting the urge to take a deep breath I kick the chair out from under me. With a snap, the rope tightens around my neck and something in my neck pops. The pain is sudden and sharp. I instinctively gasp but only feel my windpipe crushed against my neck, preventing any air from getting in or out. God this hurts.\n\nSwinging slightly from kicking the chair I rotate in slow painful circles, each orbit pulling and squeezing a different part of my neck. As I wait for the involuntary panic of running out of breath I try to ignore the awful pain. I think about Cheryl coming on Monday to get her stuff and finding my body hanging in the hall as she opens the door. I hope that my swinging will gently bring my dead eyes to meet hers as she takes her key out of the lock. “Boo! Soak that sight in Cheryl,” I think to myself.\n\nI almost laugh but choke on a gruesome chortle instead. That's when I notice I don't feel out of breath. I've never tried to hold my breath for long but this is starting to seem extended. Maybe its the adrenaline, or maybe people who hang themselves don't actually feel like their are running out of air. I should have researched this more. But if I were the sort that considers things I probably would not be hanging from a rope right now over a girl.\n\nI wonder a bit at my calm. In the movies people jerk around like their lizard brain just woke up and screamed \"What the hell are you doing?!\" Other than the god awful pain in my neck I don't feel particularly inconvenienced. I swing my feet gently just to see if my brain is still in control. Despite the shifting of the rope against my neck it feels just like I'm hanging from some monkey bars. No panic. “Not a bad way to go I guess.”\n\nI wonder how long it's been and how long this will take. I occupy myself by looking around the hall at all the things Cheryl and I shared. My eyes fall on the wall mirror in the middle of the hall that reflects into the kitchen. I think about the time we found it together at a flea market. I hope she isn't thinking she gets to take that. She bought it, but I've always liked it and she knows it. Just then I see a black shape pass across the mirror. “What the hell?”\n\nAs much as I can while hanging from the ceiling I try to see into the kitchen. “Is someone in there?”\n\nThat can't be. I was alone and I think I would have noticed someone coming in the door and pushing me aside to make it to the kitchen. I hear a rustle from the kitchen and now I panic a little. “Oh crap, a burglar or something.”\n\nMaybe they climbed up the fire escape and broke through the kitchen window. They might be the kind hearted sort of burglar that would cut me down. Then I would have to explain to everyone the suspiciously circular hickey around my neck. I will myself to swing a little quieter and hope they are content to steal the Keurig. That's Cheryl's anyway.\n\nA figure in a robe that billows oddly in the draftless apartment slowly moves into the hall. His face is hidden by a deep cowl and he carries some sort of farm-looking implement with a wooden shaft and a curved blade at the top. “Oh man, its the grim reaper. He's real!”\n\nHe stands in front of my dangling soon to be corpse and I can sense him staring at me. \n\nThe grim reaper, I can't believe fantasy writers got that right. I stare back at him and wonder how this works. Does he suck out my soul? Does it hurt? I hope he doesn't have to stab me with that blade. My neck is uncomfortable enough as it is.\n\nAfter what seems like a good couple of minutes the grim reaper turns around and begins to move back into the kitchen. “What the hell? Isn't he going to kill me?”\n\n“No.”\n\nHe talked! No, he didn't say anything I just heard it, and he heard me even though I can't talk. Ah cool, now that I am dead I have telepathy. Wait, I'm not dead and he said he wasn't going to kill me. I'm hanging from a rope, how does that work? I have to be dead. “Uh..wait. What do you mean no?”\n\nThe grim reaper stops and slowly turns back to face me. “You are an immortal. I can not take you with me.”\n\n“Immortal? What do you mean? I'm not a god.”\n\nI sense him scoffing in my head. “Not a god, just an immortal. You can not die.”\n\n“What do you mean I can't die”\n\nA sigh. “You can not die because you are immortal. You are immortal because you can not die. Get it?”\n\n“Not really.”\n\n“Well, you have all the time in the world to figure it out.” Turning back the grim reaper begins to leave.\n\nFrantically I kick my legs at the nearby wall, “Wait! What am I supposed to do now?”\n\nA slight chuckle, “Hang out I suppose.”\n\n“Oh funny. Just my luck that the grim reaper is a dick.”\n\nWith a slight shake of his cowl the grim reaper passes out of sight into the kitchen.\n\nDespite the pain it causes, I kick the wall repeatedly and attempt to shout in my head, “Wait, you have to help me! Can you cut me down?”\n\n“No.”\n\n“Please! I cant reach the chair and I'm not strong enough to pull myself up.”\n\nA moment passes without a response. “Are you still there?” Nothing.\n\n“Oh shit.” Why did I have to do this on Saturday?\n\nTwo long days later Cheryl opens the door to my apartment. Looking up from the lock her eyes meet mine. The single most shocking thing she has seen in her life is quickly replaced a second later when I wink.", "Reading these stories made me decide that if I ever choose to hang myself, I will have a knife or saw in my pocket.", "As Joseph walked up to the door, he fumbled with his keys, the suicide note his brother had left him tumbled out of his pocket onto the floor. He froze for a moment, staring at it. His brother had been ranting a few days ago, something about an experiment going wrong on his watch, but he thought it was dealt with. Perhaps this was what he had meant when he said it would be dealt with soon.\n\nGrabbing his keys with both hands to stop the shaking, he unlocked the door. He tripped over the mail, then ran into the bedroom. He saw the silhouette of his brother's form hanging from the ceiling and froze. His head began spinning, and he stumbled as the floor seemed to reel like the deck of a ship. He grabbed the wall to keep his balance and...\n\n\"Joe?\" said his brother.\n\nJoseph's head snapped up to see his brother staring at him, apparently alive. His mind started going. \"What the fuck, James?!\" he yelled, \"You scared me to death. This is a fucked up joke, man!\"\n\nJames winced and said, \"Well... It's not exactly a joke.\"\n\n\"Where did you even get that rig?!\" asked Joseph, \"Why?!\"\n\n\"It's not a rig!\" yelled James, \"It's not a joke! I was trying to actually... you know... and something went wrong.\"\n\nJoseph's heart was beginning to calm a bit, but he was still shaky. \"Shit!\", he said, \"I can't take this, just tell me how I get you down. Who helped you set this up, anyway?\"\n\n\"Seriously, Joe.\" said James, \"I actually tried this with just a rope. I don't even know how I'm breathing right now. And it worked for the most part, my neck snapped and I can't feel my body.\"\n\nJoseph slowly walked around his brother, looking at the rope. He didn't see any wires or additional supports. His brother's neck was at a slightly unusual angle. \"What the hell?\" he muttered.\n\n\"Just cut me down.\" said James, \"The rope's tied to the bed.\"\n\n\"I should call an ambulance.\" said Joseph as he pulled out his phone.\n\n\"Shit, no.\" said James, \"Whatever you do, don't do that. I'll be fine.\"\n\n\"Your neck's broken.\" said Joseph, \"I'm not touching you.\"\n\n\"It's fine.\" said James, \"Just lower me onto the bed. I'll stop you if I feel any pain.\"\n\nJoseph dragged the bed closer to his brother, getting it under him before he untied the rope. He lowered James to the bed, then checked his neck. It was at an odd angle. He was no doctor, but he knew his brother shouldn't be alive. He loosened the rope slightly, then jumped back as James' head jerked up with a loud snap.\n\nJoseph watched in shock as his brother turned his head, causing more gut-wrenching snaps and pops. Finally, the sounds stopped, and James sat up. He was fine.\n\n\"What happened to you?\" asked Joseph.\n\n\"Well...\" began James, \"I guess something did go right with the experiment. Just remember that if I start trying to eat people, destroy my brain.\"\n\n\"That better be a joke.\" said Joseph.\n\n\"Eh...\" said James, shrugging, \"At least now I can do something about the other experiments.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"I mean that I have to work on a name and costume.\" said James, \"Because the next few days are going to be interesting.\"", "It’s all green around me, save for the yellow spears of sunlight piercing through the thick murky shadow of the lake. Every so often a fish would swim by, rippling the surface and appearing like a dark spot in the sky. It’s been so long down here that all my air is gone and I am sitting at the bottom, perched on a large rock that’s tied to my foot. Zip tied, and no way to untie it. I’ve tried. For a day and a half I tried. Then I tried to lift the rock, but even with the water taking some of the weight away, it’s no use. \n\nI threw the rock off a small boat dock in a tiny lake in a nothing backwater town. It had all become too much to take. The stress and the fear and the banality of existence. So I tried to check out. To opt out of existence. I wasn’t going to take the overplayed, simple ways out either. Poison, a gun, a noose. These things would just put me in the same pile of unremembered dead that get mourned for a day and forgotten. My death will be a mystery. I will disappear. I never needed to be burned or buried. I don’t want people who don’t know me to appear at my funeral. I want people to wonder. So I threw myself in a lake. I’ve never been within a hundred miles of here. They’ll never find me.\n\nBut I never expected this. Unable to die, living tethered to the bottom like a fishtank bubble diver. I never expected this attempt to fail like the other two. I should get back to everyone, but I don’t know how to get off the bottom of this lake. I brought my cellphone but I am sure that after 96 hours of being submerged, it is not likely to work. \n\nKind of ironic, isn’t it. I always needed to be saved, but I put myself out of saving reach. Then I just continue to exist. My life is a metaphor for my life. How boring.\n\n---\n\nThis character does not represent the thoughts or opinions of the author. Please please PLEASE get help if you have any self-harming thoughts. People love you.\t They do.\n", "Gasping and thrashing, the tight noose choked him. The more he moved, the more his neck went red raw and burnt; the more it burnt, the more he thrashed. It went on, and on, until he finally found the appealing sway he was hoping for, back and forth along the bottom floor of his house, the rope attached to the curving balcony above.\n\nIn his mind, he swore. Beneath him Mr. Squiggles the brown-and-white ragdoll stared up at him with wide blue eyes and meowed constantly. He was hungry. He was always hungry. It would just be another thing to do, he supposed, if he could get down.\n\nThankfully he wasn't completely stupid. Hanging, his neck too strong or his luck too great, that flicker of hope as he jumped seemed to have kept him alive. In his ears blared the music from his phone, the last sweet reminder of life he loved...now, turned, to Blurred Lines. He shivered and jerked again, only serving to send pulsations of pain spreading through his body.\n\nGod's bollocks, how did that dreadful song get in here?\n\nIf only to live to shut it off, he would do just that. Prodding his fingers through the noose, a barrier between rope and burning red flesh he flexed and flailed his other hand to his phone. The first grope served to pull at his shirt, the second his belt, the other a wave at the door watching him in his struggle, Mr. Squiggles below now leaping to attack his feet and missing by a few feet, yet not disturbed by the task at hand; his master had become a toy.\n\n\nFinally he managed it. Grabbing the headphones and pulling them out, one yank, two yanks and a final third, successful one pulled it into his slowly dulling finger's grasp, the blood draining from them and into his head. With that task complete, he turned off the dreadful song and took a moment to...do something, anything.\n\n\nI saw the blinding light. I'm not dead. Is it that I am immortal, am I lucky, am I cursed to drop from here and let that fat-pawed creature eat me?\n\nAs it turned out, he was immortal. He went to look at his phone as best he could and his head jerked to one side, lopsided, his spine dreadfully broken. The man sighed. It was a terrible day.\n\n\nMother would be a terrible idea to phone. What would she say, \"You fool! You idiot! You could have landed on the cat! At least do it from a tree in the park, or from a bridge; you'll probably get a park or the bridge named after you then!\"\n\nNo, not her. His father? Most likely drinking. His brother, who always thought that suicide was fascinating? No, no, he'd probably have him go to hospital to check out his neck that, oddly, began to lose its sense of pain. It would have to be Jim.\n\nFumbling his way through the short-list of phone contacts, he pressed Jim's name and squirmed to raise it to his tomato-coloured ears.\n\n\"Hey bud!\" the friendly voice spoke. \"You alright? Heard you were all depressed and I was on my way over. You're not doing something weird, are you?\"\n\nHow could a jelly-necked immortal respond to that? It was a terrible joke that sprung to mind but, as he was so proud of his dad-jokes and terrible dad-dancing, he replied as his mind knew best; \"Oh, just...haaarghg-ing around! Oh, b-hiiighghght-t my tongue. C-come...around!\"\n\n\"On the way already, bud. Hold on. I'll bring a couple drinks over to make you feel better.\"\n\n\"Th-aaarghgnk-kuh you!\" and paused, squinting somewhat. \"Some ice too, a big bag of it.\"\n\n\"See you soon!\"\n\n\nHave you ever seen the face of someone who finds out not only you hung yourself but survived it, broke your neck, and found out you was immortal? Jim shrieked like a girl and slammed the door shut, took two steps forwards and promptly passed out, banging his head onto the radiator by the wall.\n\n\"Ji-hrrhghgnh-m! Oh...b-balls...b-better...call John...\"", "Probably a bit darker than what you were expecting but here we go! \n \n \nI'm sure I would've let out the typical drawn out movie 'gasp' had I not been holding my entire body weight on my windpipe. There was no joyous rebirth, no revelation that I had been given a second chance to renew a wasted life. Only instantaneous and overwhelming horror. \nI had no time to grasp what had happened. There was a brief moment of complete confusion before survival instinct kicked in and I began convulsing uncontrollably, my body trying desperately to undo what my mind had already done. \nIt was no use, you don't usually accommodate immortality into a suicide, had I known I would have perhaps tried incineration rather than hanging, I was already a gonner and I'd been alive all of 17 seconds. I spent the last few moments of my morbid rebirth in blind panic, bursting blood vessels straining to escape the cold embrace of death to which I had previously become acquainted. A miracle destined to be extinguished before its revelation, like some sick cosmic miscarriage. The irony is I died in a darker, more horrifying place than when I had first decided to take my life. \n \nThat was the second time I died. \n \nI've lost count now, this has become my world, and my tomb. An endless cycle of death and rebirth optimized into one panic ridden minute long experience. \nIf I could just reach the phone, I could finally end it all.", "I swung there like a fucktard, dangling from the inside of my closet. I thought about what was going on. The doorknob that I tied the other end of the rope on to didn't break. Being a short woman, standing at barely 5\"4, I was far from the floor. So.. it should have worked. I stopped breathing. And yet I am conscious. That must mean that I am alive, in some way or another, without breathing. I reached for my phone and thought about asking Siri why I'm still alive. Instead, I scrolled through my address book and thought about who I could and who I should call to help me down. I was able to just touch the top of the chair I jumped off with my feet, in order to breathe a bit, so I could talk. The sensation of breath was dizzying, like I had felt air and discovered the sense of smell for the first time. I listened to the phone ring as I thought about what to say. What could I say to explain the situation I was in? Thankfully, the person that picked up the other line didn't need explanations. \n\n\"Hello.\"\n\n\"Heyy\" I said, phrasing it almost like a question. \"What are you doing right now?\"\n\n\"Buying dildos, you want one?\" Asked Holly. I didn't know if she was joking or not.\n\n\"I'm not sure I need another one. You should come over. I think I need some help.\" I said to her. I knew that she would not say no to me.\n\n\"Yeah girl I'll be right there.\" I heard the uplifted tone of her voice as the phone clicked.\n\nHolly and I had an interesting relationship. She used to be in a group of friends that I had fallen out of contact with a long time ago. She functioned as my drug dealer, my fuck buddy, and I functioned as her confidant and emotional crutch.\n\nTen minutes later Holly burst in the door and called my name. I told her I was in the closet and I could practically hear her eyebrows wiggle. She opened the door and I exhaled quickly in my breath before my air was cut off again. She cackled maniacally as I hung there, staring at her. I knew I looked pathetic. She cut me down and sat down on my couch with me. She took out her medium sized bong from her big tote bag she carried around everywhere. We lit up, and after we got decently stoned, she looked at me.\n\n\"You okay?\" She asked,\n\n\"Nah.\" I said. There was no point in lying to her.\n\n\"Wanna talk about it?\"\n\n\"No.\"", "\"Dude, I can't understand you. I think there's a problem with the line. Text me!\"\n\nThe line went dead. I really should have seen that coming. Speech requires breath, a resource I was at that time severely lacking. I tried to think of how I could explain this through a text but nothing seemed appropriate. There's no social etiquette for cutting your brother down from a wooden support in his basement. After five minutes and only coming up with \"Cut me dwn pls kthx\" I decided that I was going to have to rely on good old fashioned shock value. He was going to need a picture. Snapchat seemed like the best bet. I didn't want this ending up on some weird suicide fetish site on the internet or something equally humiliating.\n\n\"Message sent\"\n\nCome on, you know I'm going to message you, check your damn phone.\n\n\"Message delivered\"\n\nOh thank god. Immortality apparently didn't mean immunity to pain and everytime I moved the rope rubbed my neck.\n\n\"1 screenshot\"\n\nYOU SICK FUCK! You think your brother killed himself and you take a fucking screenshot? \n\nAbout 15 minutes later I heard footsteps hammering across the floor above me, the basement door slam against the wall as it flew open and my brother bound down the stairs. \n\nHysterical laughter was not the first reaction I was expecting from a man seeing his only sibling dangling from the ceiling, but after 10 minutes of it the novelty was gone. By the time he started cutting me down I was throwing punches at him I was so annoyed. This was when he discovered that he could spin me.\n\nThe rope finally snapped when he was half way through and I tumbled to the floor, dizzy, humiliated and pissed off beyond any reasonable measure. \n\n\"YOU THINK I'M DYING AND YOU SCREENSHOT THE FUCKING PICTURE? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!\"\n\n\"Well bro\" he giggled, \"That's easier said then done. Follow me, we're going to go talk to Mum and Dad\"", "I thought I'd finally found a way to stop fucking things up.\n\nWell, it looks like I fucked that up too.\n\n\"Uh... hey! Hey, anyone! Can you give me a hand?!\" Silence. \"Hey! Somebody help me!!\" Still nothing. Looks like I'll be enjoying the sound of swinging on a rope - by my head - until someone nearby comes home from work. Unless...\n\nThough I'd bound my hands behind me, maybe there was a way to get my phone out. I fished around for a few minutes until I got it out. I managed to hit speed dial at random and press **Call** before I fucked things up and dropped it - I prayed to whatever god that it wasn't-\n\n\"Hello?\"\n\nShit. It was.\n\n\"Uhh... hehe, heyyyy, Karen. What's new?\"\n\n\"The fuck do you think you doin', callin' me right after we broke up?! I told you, we're done! I never wanna hear from you again, you blundering fuckwad!\"\n\n\"Wait, Karen, don't hang up!!\" More silence. \"Uh... Karen?\"\n\n\"...What do you want?\" Good. She hadn't hung up.\n\n\"I seem to have gotten myself stuck somehow. Could you, uh, come help me out?\"\n\n\"Mother of- what the hell were you jacking off into this time?!?\" My faced flushed with embarrassment.\n\n\"That was *one time*! Look, this is serious. Could you just come back and help me out here? I'm in a pretty bad bind.\" That's true - my bindings were already loosening.\n\n\"Fine, but if you're fucking with me, I'm calling the cops.\"\n\nTwenty achingly-long minutes later, a key turns in the lock and Karen waltzed in. \"Good thing I didn't throw this out when - HOLY SHIT. What the fuck, man?\" I cursed myself for not putting on pants before I put on the noose. \"I told you if you're fucking with me-\"\n\n\"I swear, this is serious!!\"\n\n\"...shit, man. Why didn't you tell me?\"\n\n\"I... I'm not that good at communicating well.\"\n\n\"Damn right. Listen, lemme see if I can get you down. It's the least I can do.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Karen, I-\"\n\n\"No really, it's the bare minimum. As soon as you're down, I'm out.\"\n\nI sighed as she fished through the kitchen for a knife. \"What's taking so long?\" Karen walked out mumbling, with a kinfe in her hand and a slice of cake in her mouth. Geez, what did I see in her? \"Just get me down.\" She pulled up the chair I knocked over and climbed up, crumbs falling in my eyes. \"Hey, watch it?\" She glared at me with a look that said *shut up, or I'll shut you up myself.* I shut up.\n\nA few minutes later, she cut through the rope. I fell to the floor, knocking against the stool and hitting the ground *hard*. Groaning, I looked up to see Karen teetering on the tilting stool. Where'd the knife go- aw, shit.\n\nWith a thud, the knife slid its way in me, nestled snugly in my chest. FUCK, that hurt. I screamed. Karen fell, looked up, and then screamed at me. This went on for a bit, until... \n\n\"Hey, why the fuck aren't you dead yet?\"\n\n\"Fuck you!\" I yelled.\n\n\"No, seriously. You're barely even bleeding.\"\n\nI looked down at my torn, bloodied shirt. Er... my torn shirt. \"What the fuck, you're right. How did you - WAIT, GO CALL A FUCKING AMBULANCE, YOU FUCKWAD!!\"\n\n\"Ah, right!! Er...\" Karen fumbled her phone and landed on me, driving the blade in deeper. I screamed and pushed her off, blacking out.\n\n---------------------------\n\nI came to in a hospital bed. Karen was nowhere to be seen; instead, a serious-looking man in a suit sat next to me.\n\n\"Welcome back, Agent Carlisle.\"\n\n\"What the- Agent? What are you-\"\n\n\"Calm down, sir. You've just had an accident, remember?\"\n\nI looked down at my smooth, stab-wound-free chest. Clearly, that was a lie. Then why did I remember-\n\n\"You have an ability the government wants. Somehow, you just survived both a hanging and a kitchen knife to the heart. If you want my opinion, I think you might somehow be immortal. If I'm right - and I usually am - you may have a future working for the C.I.A.\"\n\n\"But- what? Why? I'm the least talented guy I've ever met.\"\n\n\"That is true. But that's the beauty of it, Agent Carlisle!\" He leaned in close. \"Imagine how much havoc you'd wreak on a terrorist organization as you rise through the ranks. Imagine starting riots as a foreign diplomat. Imagine getting caught by spies and being immune to harm. Imagine -\" He leaned back, \" imagine being the world's greatest saboteur.\"\n\nI pondered that. It did sound pretty good. \"What are my options? What if I don't want to?\"\n\nThe man smiled. \"Well, your other options is to spend the rest of your natural life being tested in a lab. Judging by your injuries, that'll probably be *very* long time.\"\n\nTwo hours later, I was on a plane headed to an undisclosed training camp, ready to *fuck shit up*.\n\n--------------------------------------------------\n\"Swing and a Miss\"\nDaily Short Story 006/100\n", "I swung there on the end of the rope with the overturned chair underneath my dangling feet. At first I just closed my eyes and waited for the blackout to come, but it never did. I generally had the feeling that one gets when they can't go to sleep despite their best efforts. No amount of tossing and turning was going to push me over the edge this time.\n\nI hung for a minute longer before I realized that I just wasn't going to die this way. Now all I had to do was get dow- shit. I was stuck.\n\nWhen you're preparing to end it all, typically an escape strategy is not on the forefront of your planning. The loop was smaller than I had imagined, so just slipping my head out wasn't going to work. I grabbed onto the rope and pulled as hard as I could to lift myself out, but I had always had the upper body strength of a goldfish and I wasn't exactly pumping iron up until what was to be my last day.\n\nI only had one last thing I could do.\n\n*sigh* \"MOOOOOOOOOOOOM!\"\n\n\"YES, HONEY?\"\n\n\"I NEED YOUR HELP!\"\n\n\"CAN IT WAIT? I'M KINDA DOING SOMETHING!\"\n\n\"NO, MOM, IT CAN'T WAIT.\"\n\n\"FINE! I'LL BE THERE IN A SECOND.\"\n\nChrist this was going to suck. I could hear it already. Mom's footsteps worked there way up the stairs, slowly progressed towards my room, and suddenly there she was.\n\n\"Oh my gosh Jeffery ohmygosh!\"\n\nImmediately she was understandably frantic, but that didn't make her any less annoying than usual.\n\n\"Mom, I'm fine, I just need you to cu-.\"\n\n\"Oh my Jeffery, my Jeffery, oh my Jeffery.\"\n\n\"MOM! I'm fine! You need to cut the ro-.\"\n\n\"Why didn't you tell me?! Why didn't you ask for help!?\" she sobbed.\n\nAt this point I got angry. \"Are you *kidding* me!? I tried so many times to get help and you brushed them off as teenage attention seeking! The school councilor warned you three times!\"\n\nAt this point my mother's frantic wailing had died out once she realized I was going to be fine. Now she was getting defensive.\n\n\"Now that's not fair, Jeffery! You know that I was under a lot of stress when the councilor talked to me. I didn't have time to worry about other things!\"\n\n\"My major depression wasn't important enough for you to take ten minutes out of your damn selfish life to ask how I was feeling?! You're unbelievable! No wonder I just tried to kill myself.\"\n\n\"Jeffery! That is no way to speak to your mother!\"\n\nWith that, my mother turned on her heels and slammed the door behind her. I, however, was still hanging from the light fixture.\n\n\"... DAAAAAAD!!!\"\n\n\"ASK YOUR MOTHER!\"", "Have you ever dreamed of being immortal? Have you ever imagined how you would discover your immortality? I haven't and I sure as hell didn't expect to find out after a botched attempt at suicide. Now I'm swinging from a fucking rope and I CAN'T GET FUCKING DOWN. Ugh, I never knew rope itched so much. Maybe I should have used wire? Then my head would have been cut off and I wouldn't be IN THIS FUCKING SITUATION. \n\nJesus Christ I swear I will do whatever it takes to be good just get me off... oh wait, my phone is in my pocket. Shit, I can't even see the screen. Thank God my parents are stingy and never got me a smartphone, I wouldn't be able to dial anyone. Ok, speed dial 1...\n\n\"Hello, Barry's Pizza, may I take your order?\" Um... no. Speed dial 2...\n\n\"You've reached Telephona Erotic-\" Speed dial 3...\n\n\"Hello?\"\n\n\"John! Thank God, ok listen I-\"\n\n\"Hah! Got you, its just my voicemail. Leave a message retard. *beep*\" That bastard, as soon as I get out of this noose I swear to GOD I will do something crazy. Whatever. I have more suffocating matters to attend to. Speed dial 4...\n\n\"Baby? Is that you?\" Shit... fuck it whatever.\n\n\"Hey mom. Uh... funny situation I'm in right now. Could you...um...come over and help me out real quick. It's a bit of a long story so I'll explain when you get here.\"\n\n\"Hon, I can't come over. Your father and I are in Hawaii, I thought you knew? Are you ok? You sound like you're not breathing well? Have you been running?\"\n\n\"Uh, yeah. Running. Its no problem, I'll call someone else. Thanks anyway, bye.\" Well shit. I didn't put any names under the other numbers. Damn... Well I am a little hungry. And thirsty.\n\n\"Hello, this is Barry's Pizza, how can I help you?\"\n\n\"Hello, this is Carter. I would like to order a large pepperoni pizza with a large Dr. Pepper, please, to be delivered at this address.\" ", "I held the phone away from my ears as my mum screamed and shouted at me, flooding me with questions about my motives, these were questions I had already answered and that in doing so gave me the courage to kick the chair from underneath me.\n\nI had made the decision to call her after about 15 minutes of awkward swinging and desperately trying to pull my body weight down in order to get the job done. I realised nothing was happening and slowly but surely it dawned on me I was stuck. I knew I had to figure out how and why I had survived and why I could still breathe and felt no pain whatsoever. \n\nAfter the tears had subsided and mum had calmed down I convinced her to come and get me to cut me down, she lived a good hour away so I knew I had some time to think about my predicament and also plan what I was going to say to her.\n\nThe first thing that struck me about her visit was that she knocked on my door, as if I could answer. I shouted \"I can't come to the door\"\nShe asked \"Why?\" \nI didn't respond. After a few seconds I heard her mumble something like \"Oh ok I see, I'll come in then\".\n\nShe walked in the room, burst into tears and started frantically trying to put me on her shoulders as if I was about to die, which by now I felt it had become quite apparent that I wasn't. \n\"Just go and get a bloody stepladder\" I said as she jostled around at my feet trying to hold me up like we were some miserable circus act that had gone horribly wrong. She ran downstairs and out in the garden and grabbed a small set of stepladders from my shed, I still don't think the running was necessary given I had been hanging for about an hour and fifteen minutes and appeared to be right as rain.\n\nShe put up the ladders then climbed up, her head came up to my chest and she asked \"Where do you keep your scissors?\"\nA question I felt could have been asked from ground level but that's just me being pedantic. \n\"Second drawer down, next to the cooker\" I replied.\nShe got them out of the drawer and started hacking away at the rope, I knew I was going to fall but the idea of falling 2 foot didn't bother me too much at this point.\n\nAfter she had got me down we sat down together and she kept trying to get me to come with her to the hospital but I didn't want to. I knew that something had kept me alive and if I had become deathproof for some reason I knew I had to really take some time to deal with this emotionally and physically, I agreed to see a counsellor and stay with her for a few days. \n\nShe calmed down after a few days and eventually trusted me enough to go come but she demanded a second copy of my key and a text to her once every half hour to prove I was alive. I obliged as I did feel guilty for trying to kill myself and putting her through that,\n\nI have to admit the guilt I felt towards my friends and family for attempting to off myself was somewhat overshadowed by the fact that I have now apparently become immortal. \n\nAs I'm writing this I'm lay in my bath with a hair dryer, toaster and kettle plugged into a multi socket suspended a few feet above the water on a rope I'm holding up.\n\nWhat's the worst that could happen? ", "If only i could just....reach....that.......Uhhhhh. It's been 3 days now. The worst part of hanging by your neck is the little hairs that get caught in the rope and pull. That really hurts. I've tried shouting, but it turns out you need air in your lungs to get a good blast of noise to come out of your mouth. with the noose only getting tighter and my windpipe all but closed I gave up on anyone else finding me after about 3 hours. since then I have been trying to wiggle and squirm myself loose. I've tried pulling open the knots and even pulling myself up using my arms, but I was never any good at rope climb at high school. I fell asleep sometime after midnight on the first night. It was actually quite a pleasant sleep but i woke up with such a crick in the neck. I guess eventually the wood will rot and i'll drop to the floor. how long does it take for wood to rot? maybe the rope will go first? No, i'll be insane by then. Immortal but insane. Maybe the bank will find me when they take the house? how long after I stop paying the mortgage does it take for a repossession? then what? they break down the door, find me hear like this. \"What are you doing?\" - \"Oh nothin' just hangin'\" - hahahaha. \"Hangin'\". Maybe I can swing, yeah, swing. where? there. the stairs. if i can swing then I can get my legs onto the stairs. maybe I can walk myself into a better position. WAIT. What's that noise? someones knocking. quick quick, deep breath, concentrate.......Hhhhhh.....shit try again......Hhhhhhh. shit shit shit. balls. they're going now. crap. what was i doing? oh yeah right. Swing. ok. hear we go.", "“Hey, boy. BOY.” I can hardly breathe, but the shouting still sets me to swinging, and I spin around in my noose like a wind chime. “Hey, c’mere and let me down. I’ll give you whatever you like.”\n\n“I heard about you, mister. Plus, they even got a sign.” He points to a nearby hand-painted wood sign that reads *Anyone caught attempting to free the prisoner will hang beside him.* “You’re not getting out of there.”\n\nFor three days, I’ve been dangling here, being pushed around by the wind. My hands around bound behind my back, watching the world spin one way and the other as the rope spins tight, then loose. If I was able to speak clearly, I would tell the child the story of the Lion and the thorn, but right now all that would come out now is bubbles and gasps. I had changed my mind. I didn’t want to be killed after all.\n\nI had walked into the local constabulary, and shot whomever I could find there. They returned fire, and miraculously, I survived. Not the miracle someone who was trying to kill themselves was hoping for. So they caught me and placed me in shackles and chains, to await execution. I waived my rights, all of them. No attorney, plead guilty, request the death penalty. Luckily, people will defend their public figures and I was to be made an example of. I was to be hung in the town square. From the neck. Until dead. \n\nI knew I was immortal, at least I knew in the same way that every 17 year old knows they are immortal, but ten seconds after the hangman pulled the lever and my feet found the free air, I knew for sure that death would elude me. Like a mirage or the end of a rainbow. \n\n*The criminal is to be hung from the neck until dead.* Very clear language. Usually the entire show lasts only a few minutes. Well, if you don’t include the pomp of the speeches and reading and letting the town condemn you. As though you were taking the fall for all of their crimes. The fall is heavy through the trapdoor even without the weight of a hundred people’s guilt.\n\nThey were kind enough to take the black bag off of my head, even if they only did it so they could check my pupils. They reacted, so I was still alive. *…hung from the neck until dead.* So here I spin, possibly forever, or at least until the gallows rot. I wonder if they would let me go then…\n" ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 6, 7, 7, 8, 10, 10, 21, 21, 39, 60, 79, 97, 161, 232 ]

[ "1421080241", "1421082283", "1421083218", "1421083841", "1421084443", "1421087781", "1421096146", "1421097077", "1421098141", "1421098870", "1421098984", "1421099604", "1421099772", "1421099965", "1421100740", "1421102145", "1421105600", "1421108556", "1421114504", "1421124328", "1421125153", "1421090469", "1421092464", "1421095564", "1421096332", "1421106086", "1421123001", "1421095972", "1421108953", "1421091600", "1421085965", "1421090112", "1421088027", "1421080221", "1421080941", "1421080732", "1421089876", "1421085995", "1421083448", "1421082792", "1421078488", "1421076952", "1421077922" ]

[ "\"Lord Lilian, You don't understand that we are on the losing side in the war right now!\", bawled General Larry,\"The fairies have not lost even one battle since the Battle of Thames.\" General Lee claimed,\"I was the one who pulled the strings in the Battle of Thames. The fairies are superstitious creatures. They are afraid to fight in the dark and they have no military tactics at all, just mere incantations. Bullets won't hit them but the noise of the bullets would enfeeble them until they black out.\" Lilian, disappointed and still considering the losses at Northampton and Birmingham repugnant, said,\"The day that we humans will have to give up to mere witches and bitches is not today. Grab all our best men, we have to stop the enemy's forces at Oxford. Declare a state of emergency and gather any able-bodied men who are willing to bleed for Britain! Dispatch couriers to seek aid against the fairies from the French, Scottish and other European nations.\" \n\nThe fairies had become tired of being seen as children's fantasies and began what they called,\"The Fairy Revolt.\" The fairies had declared war at humanity and had established an impregnable stronghold at Leeds. Since fairies were known to be legendary creatures, an unexpected war began. In all the wars that had taken place, Half the British army was poly morphed into an army of critter, sheep and cows. Britain had become the country with the highest sheep population within a few weeks. Some of the other half had joined forces with the fairies and the fairies used their petty magics to convert these forces into ferocious giants, which the humans called 'feral behemoths'. With every war that the fairies won, their ranks bolstered, more people betrayed Mother Britain only to join the fairies. The fairies were also known to take control of the bodies of their victims. No one ever knew that the fairies also knew how to use sinister magics. \n\nThe lethargic remains of the once-fearsome British army relentlessly marched into the Battle of Oxford. The British were clearly outnumbered but they fought with never-ending zeal and ardor. The raucous sounds of British cannons and guns had begun to sap the fairies' energies and the British were soon having an upper hand in the battle. Gigantic Behemoths, which were possessed by the fairies were killed using vigorous bombs which were manufactured specifically for them. The fairies were provoked to use what they had been hiding all along. The fairies gathered, formed an orb which they gradually swelled using their magical powers and formed what they called,\"Hitler's Conjuration of Celestial Inferno.\" Soon, a colossal and unstoppable meteor fell onto the British forces, which were wiped down in a single wave. \n\nThe British Empire collapsed within days, the army was defeated and the scattered remains had chosen to remain secluded or to surrender to the peerless fairies. Lilian and the generals were hanged and a dark chapter in the history of Britain unraveled as the 'Supreme Fairy Dominion' established control over Britain and prepared for the Invasion of Ireland.", "FIRE! Came the order and fire they did.\n\nFairies are real and apparently easily offended.\n\nThey started in France, burning down villages and waving their little swords in the air.\n\nThey apparently hadn't kept up with the times. At the battle of Amiens the French mobilized 400 men. Firing all night they destroyed the fairy army and claimed victory.\n\nThinking this would redeem their reputation, they were wrong. As all the other countries laughed.\n\nThe French army defeated a childrens story." ]

[ 1, 1 ]

[ "1421156420", "1421172957" ]

[ "**I even added a voice to the grim reaper, thresh from league of legends has really cool quotes/voice so I used that for the sake of some extra ambiance, you can even listen to [This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LQHRajcOjCM) song for added effect.**\n\n*It isn't until the booming drums of war start to fade, does the real battle start*\n\nThose were the words they told us, the soldiers who had died and had become reincarnated as the heroes of wars. The other men had thought it absurd, disbelieving of the real truth that simmered beneath the surface. The grim fate that faced those passing on was often that, Grim. The guardian of the underworld, the kids tales told of a skeleton clad in black robes, wielding a fierce-some scythe as it collected the souls of those who had fallen.\n\nIt truly wasn't until you had died, that you believed in such tales, for when the sounds of war did fade, and the blotting sun turned from bright to black. Did the one reaper come to collect your soul...\n\nIt's dark visage surrounded you, tempting you in with a lulling sense of security. A flash of metal cut through the darkness from the side, I myself had only narrowly avoided it as I fell back onto the cold floor. Endless eyes stared down at me, judging my every move before it leapt back into action. The scythe scrapped against the floor, sparks illuminating the area for a short second, enough to see the monstrosity attacking me.\n\n[\"Going somewhere?\"](http://images.wikia.com/leagueoflegends/images/d/d4/Thresh.interaction1.ogg)\n\nA chilling wind flew through my spin as the scythe spun into action again, cutting a few hairs off the top of my head. I managed to roll to the side, avoiding the blade as it sunk into the floor.\n\nIt spoke again, the voice amplified tenfold in the confined space [\"Nobody escapes...](http://images.wikia.com/leagueoflegends/images/6/63/Thresh.attack2.ogg)\n\nI didn't even see it move again, unearthly speeds unleashed the scythe tore through the flesh in my shoulder, blood splattering onto the floor and dissipating into a crimson mist.\n\n\"Why are you doing this!\" I screamed at the creature as I clutched my arm desperately.\n\nIt did not stop it's pursuit, closing the distance slowly, swinging the bloodied scythe around to face me.\n\n\"Why can't you just let me die?\" I tried again.\n\nThe reaper stopped, tilting his head to the side as if pondering the question.\n\nThe answer came mockingly, bouncing off the walls.\n\n[\"There is life, there is death. And then there is me.\"](http://images.wikia.com/leagueoflegends/images/8/81/Thresh.joke2.ogg)\n\nThe reaper spun the scythe a second time, lodging itself into the center of my chest. Oddly enough, the blood that should have poured out of the wound was not red, but black. The sinister substance covered the scythe, flowing up the blade and down the handle. collecting in a small puddle at the feet of the reaper.\n\n[\"Any last words?\"](http://images.wikia.com/leagueoflegends/images/8/8d/Thresh.attack8.ogg) it asked, pulling the scythe from its place as I fell to the floor, my vision blotting.\n\nI opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. The dark room begun to spin as I could feel a ripping sensation at the base of my spine.\n\n\"What are you doing!\" I managed to spit out as it gripped the nape of my neck roughly. The ripping sensation increased, tearing at the skin and bones\n\n--------------------------------\n\n**Changing perspectives here**\n\n--------------------------------\n\nThe room was filled with a blood curdling scream as the reaper ripped the soul from its vessel, loosely tossing the ragged body aside. It gazed at the light blue soul as it flickered in his palm, admiring it's beauty.\n\n[\"Oh, the eternity we shall spend together.\"](http://images.wikia.com/leagueoflegends/images/e/e2/Thresh.move6.ogg)\n\n\n\n\n\n", "Shrapnel was raining down with the delicate tinkle of a wind-chime, like the one he put over Julias' crib. The screams of his company reminded him of his daughters birth strangely enough, and the realization that one day some leave the world the way they are born: bloody and screaming. Nothing prepares you for the delirium that stains a dying mans words and twists his vision when he can sense his end is near.\n\n\"You are frail and soon to decay. But I cannot commit you to this until you prove that it is what you want. If it is, then you will not suffer, but for those of yours who would not willingly see you dead, their suffering will be twofold. If this is not the end you seek, then you must live. Through pain and blood and loss, you must choose to live. You may resist either choice but in limbo you will remain until one is made.\"\n\n\"Why? I've fought enough and bled enough now to have earned my passing. Leave me be. Whatever time is left, let me spend alone with pride in my heart and love to warm me from the cold to come.\n\n\"I will not leave you be. You are mortal and weak but you were born to live and fight and survive. Will you not do that now, for what is yours and those whom you love? If you loved, then you would never want to die. But if you want to die, then i ask, have you ever loved?. \n\n\"They are lost to me, and i to them without limbs. I am lost. I would burden them and their pity would drown me..... But i do love them, i always did, as fervently as flowers love spring and it is out of love that i choose this as my right. To die by my own choice. Should that displease you, then ..\"\n\n\"Then you would have your loved ones suffer your pain because you could not. There is no pride to be found in cowardice. If it is your wish, then you shall die.\"\n\n\"..... It is\"\n\n\"You disappoint me then, mortal. You do not deserve to live or to fight. But you do, now, deserve to die." ]

[ 1, 1 ]

[ "1421156734", "1421156989" ]

[ "Dr. Joseph R. Freeman earned his PH.D. in Applied Physics from Yale in 1973. \n\nIrony struck Dr. Freeman at 63.925 miles per hour. The vehicle exiting the highway did not slow for ducks, crows, squirrels or pedestrians. A chunk of Dr. Freeman’s flesh was now stuck to the “Science Bitches!” bumper sticker. \n\nDr. Freeman’s chosen deity – no one – could be found. The courtroom assembled – full of all the major deities. Dr. Freeman’s assigned lawyer, the flying spaghetti monster, was present and dripping meatball marinara over the floor of the courtroom. \n\nAcross the aisle sat Satan, who was dressed resplendently in a ruby red robe, a red snake over a field of fire decorated the back. \n\nOther deities formed the jury. Buddha, Shiva, Neptune, and more filled the jury box. \n\n“All rise for his high, honorable nothing.” Read the bailiff – which appeared to be Athena. Everyone, excluding Dr. Freeman stood synchronously. Dr. Freeman stood up. \n\nEveryone in the courtroom, except for Dr. Freeman sat at the same time. Dr. Freeman followed suit. \n\nSatan stood and cleared his throat. \n\n“Your honor – Dr. Freeman is guilty of living.”\n\nThe courtroom was silent and unreacting. Dr. Freeman got the sense this sort of trial happens often. \n\n“The defendant chose you to worship, but clearly does not fully grasp your concept. He cannot tell when you are here, and he cannot tell when you are not,” Continued Satan, “Therefore, I ask that the court remands the witness until he can recognize nothing.” \n\nLaughing, Satan sat down. \n\nDr. Freeman saw his prosecutor was not going to be merciful today.\n\nThe flying spaghetti monster stood, and asked his charge a question, “Dr. Freeman, do you have any defense for Satan’s accusations?”\n\nDr. Freeman pondered his answer. Forty five minute or 10000 years past. \n\nFinally Dr. Freeman stood, and straightening his tie. He hummed the notes before saying the words, as if trying to summon a song he heard a lifetime ago. \n\n\"Fools,\" said I, \"you do not know \nSilence like a cancer grows \nHear my words that I might teach you \nTake my arms that I might reach you\" \nBut my words like silent raindrops fell \nAnd echoed in the wells of silence”\n\nAnd Dr. Freeman returned to the well like a silent raindrop.\n", "\"Please rise for the honorable judge Jesus Christ.\" \n\n\"Please be seated.\" says Jesus.\n\nVishnu, Zoroaster, Jupiter, the Judaic God, and Xenu all sat patiently in the jury as Jesus began to read over paperwork concerning the man to be judged that day. \n\n\"Uh, let's see here...'Robert Olson. Male. Died at the age of 76. American.\" read Jesus in a half-mumble. He paused to flip the page over.\n\n\"'Baptist Christian.'\" he continued with a subtle eye-roll and glance at his father sitting in the jury, who also rolled his eyes. \n\n\"'Has committed no serious sins or broken any commandments.' Seems pretty straightforward.\" Jesus turned the page again. \n\n\"Oh. 'Disowned his son for being homosexual. Verbally abused homosexuals, minorities, women, and people of other faiths on multiple occasions.'\" \n\nThe jury let out a soft groan. \"Another one of these guys.\" they all thought. \n\n\"Okay, so how do you plead?\" asked Jesus. \n\n\"Not guilty.\" said Robert with a smug look on his face; clearly oblivious to the ridicule silent circling him. \n\n\"Okay, you got any evidence to provide?\" \n\n\"Yes. A verse from the Bible in fact.\" \n\n\"Go ahead.\" said Jesus, restraining himself from a sarcastic comment.\n\n\"'You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination.' from Leviticus 18:22.\" \n\n\"Any more verses?\" Jesus sighs. \n\n\"'If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination.' from Leviticus 20:13.\"\n\n\"Dad, do remember Levites?\" says Jesus as he shifts in his seat to face the jury. \n\n\"Uh, yeah. They were a pretty uptight bunch of people. It was like they wanted to run everything. And I tried telling them, 'Guys, I got it under control up here,' but they never really listened.\" God said. \n\nJesus nodded as he turned back to Robert. \n\n\"Well, I couldn't help but notice that you left out the final part of that last Leviticus quote: 'they' homesexuals 'shall surely be put to death; their blood is upon them.' Do you mean to suggest that you would have killed homosexuals because the Bible said so?\"\n\n\"If it truly does then maybe.\" said Robert with rising uneasiness. \n\n\"That's pretty much why I sent Jesus down to Earth, you know.\" exclaimed God. \"People were going crazy with making random shit up and saying that I told them to write it in the Bible. I needed to get someone to *actually* represent me down there.\" \n\nThe man was shocked by God's use of expletives. \n\n\"So you could say that the Old Testament could be totally disregarded, right Dad?\" asked Jesus.\n\n\"Oh yeah, definitely. Except the Ten Commandments. Those are okay.\"\n\nThe man went pale. He had read his Bible over fives times in his life and he knew very well that the only defense for his harsh treatment of people in his life was in the Old Testament. \n\n\"What does the rest of our jury think on the issue?\" Jesus inquired. \"Jupiter?\"\n\n\"In Ancient Rome and Greece, where they called me Zeus, homosexuality was a common thing, ya know? I didn't really ever see a problem in it. Plus, I pretty much stuck my dick in everything back then so I can't really judge what other people do with their romantic or sex lives.\" said Jupiter with a chuckle that made him sound like a giddy teenage boy.\n\n\"Zoroaster?\"\n\n\"Yeah, gays seem fine with me.\" Zoroaster said with a slight disenchantment; probably because of his perpetual jealousy of Jesus. \n\n\"Vishnu?\"\n\n\"Same here.\" said Vishnu.\n\n\"Xenu?\"\n\nXenu spoke in his usual unintelligible babble but nodded his head to indicate 'yes'.\n\n\"Okay, looks like we're all done here.\" said Jesus, thankful that this case blew over pretty quickly, as Hades and Lucifer both entered through the double doors of the heavenly courtroom and took the man by his arms. \n\nEdit: I apologize ahead of time for any religious inaccuracies, or inconsistencies with how an actual jury trial works. Sorry.\n\nEdit 2: I read this over again, and oh god the narrative feels so thin and lifeless. I really should have put a little more detailed(and accurate) exposition into each deity equally." ]

[ 7, 102 ]

[ "1421192208", "1421164849" ]

[ "\"So tired. So extraordinarily tired. I am so tired.\" The thought repeated over and over again. Millennia of intricate rules, delicate balances, imperceptible nudges here and there, the joy when everything went to plan, the even greater joy when serendipity created greater things that were never even part of the original plan, the sorrow when things went wrong even though all the rules were followed. Thy will be done.\n\nAnother old soul approached. They were attuned, the two of them. Chaos and order. Good and evil. Darkness and the light. Their names abound, yet neither really knew what to call each other. After all, it was never necessary. Words were never needed between the two. They just knew. They both knew that they were tired. They both knew that it was time to take a break from their tedious battle. They both knew that the other could not be trusted.\n\n\"Hail,\" spoke one.\n\n\"Greetings,\" replied the other. Words were not needed, but words were spoken, as if to symbolize the temporary nature of their agreement. \"I have brought my representative.\"\n\n\"As have I,\" came the response. There was a pregnant pause. Both knew why the other had come. Both knew what the other had brought as representative. But now that words had been spoken, an invisible force demanded that more words be uttered. \"What have you brought?\"\n\n\"What have *you* brought?\"\n\n\"I have brought slug.\"\n\n\"I have brought cat.\"\n\n\"Thy will be done,\" they both spoke in unison. And disappeared.\n\nThe cat ate the slug.\n\n\"Meow\"", "“BOOM. You ready?” Satan kicks the door open, and throws a beer at God.\n\nGod sits hunched over his desk, with pages and pages of handwritten notes in front of him. The beer can sails through space and winds up in orbit around a black hole for a moment before being sucked in.\n\n“Dude, weak.” Satan runs up and looks over God’s shoulder. “Are you still working on that replacement thing?”\n\n“Yeah, it’s really hard.”\n\n“You’re omniscient.” Satan flops down in God’s beanbag chair and his tail rips it open. He opens two more beers with his horns and gets disappointed when God doesn’t see. \n\n“I just don’t want to pick wrong. All the humans on earth have such promise to be a kind, loving and forgiving God. I just want to make sure that they are the *most* kind, loving and forgiving God. What about you? Did you find a replacement?”\n\n“Uhh…” Satan points at the earth with one of his beer bottles. “That guy.”\n\n“That’s the ocean.”\n\n“Look who’s back to knowing everything. Fine then, whoever is closest.”\n\n“There’s a woman out sunning herself on a boat about 175 miles away. She is the closest.”\n\n“Yeah, her.”\n\n“What’s her name?”\n\n“God, it doesn’t matter. It is so easy to be Satan. Literally anyone would do it.”\n\n“No, people are good. They will be kind to each other.”\n\n“No, absolute power corrupts absolutely. It’s awesome. Any one of these people will corrupt and be the devil in like, 5 seconds. You watch. Except don’t, because we got places to be.” He motions out the door to his custom Hyundai convertible with the surfboards sticking out of the back. \n\nGod looks up from his paperwork. “Hey, can I pick Jesus?”\n\n“As long as you mean some Mexican guy. Otherwise that’s you.” Satan takes a swig of beer. “You’re Jesus, Jesus is you. Also, you’re both this bird that’s the holy ghost. Didn’t you pay attention in Sunday school?”\n\n“Nah, I rest on Sunday.”\n\n“For the love of you, PICK.”\n\n“Fine.”\n\nSatan moves and looks at his pick. It’s the same girl suntanning herself on a boat.\n\n“Looks good to me. Let’s boogie.”\n\n“Right on, Satan, right on.”\n", "God and Satan sat side by side on a park bench in a small city. They watched people pass by on the streets, some with a hurried pace, and other simply loafing casually. \n\n\"So can we get this over with already?\" Satan asked sarcastically. \"Beelzebub and I have this kickass party set up near Alpha Centauri and I've still got to pick up booze before I get there.\" \n\nGod sighed heavily, the weight of his decision clearly bearing down on his furrowed brow. \"How the hell did you pick one so fast? I can barely find any I *like,* let alone any I would trust with my power.\" \n\n\"Nah, you are just overthinking it,\" Satan responded with a grin. \"Shit, I could have picked like a thousand for you that would be perfect, probably do your job even better.\" \n\n\"Yeah well why don't you give me some pointers then, huh?\" God said flustered. The irritation was evident in his voice, but we was beginning to worry he might not be able to take his vacation. \n\n\"Okay, okay,\" Lucifer said with a laugh. \"So lets just run down your characteristics. You don't like women, you are kinda racist, you're prone to overreacting, you have a violent side...\"\n\n\"I will smite your ass if you keep this up Lu,\" God interrupted. \n\n\"Now now,\" Lucifer said with mock sympathy. \"Just let me keep going and you let me know when you see the big picture.\" Lucifer raised his hands and counted off each remark with a finger. \"Major jealous streak, old as hell...well actually older than hell. You are a huge hypocrite, contradict yourself all the fuckin' time, and you are absolutely convinced you are right about everything. Did I leave anything out?\" \n\n\"My God...\" God responded. His look of shock changed to one of irritation once he realized the circular nature of his remark. \"I'm a Republican!\" \n\nLucifer simply closed his eyes and grinned while nodding his head. \"Yeah dude, Republicans totally are your chosen people these days.\" \n\n\"But the Jews are my chosen people...\" God said quietly. \n\n\"O yeah, you have totally been awesome to the Jews here the last few centuries right?\" Satan responded with a bored tone. \n\n\"Good point.\"\n\n\"So just pick a damn Republican. Literally any one of them will do,\" Lucifer said. \n\n\"Clint Eastwood!\" God exclaimed. \n\n\"Nah dude, guy is Hollywood, totally one of mine,\" Lucifer replied. \n\n\"Ugh. Well...\" God hesitated. His eyes widened with realization. \"O come on, Lu. You don't really think it should be her do you?\" \n\n\"The Alaskan retard? O yeah dude, I just can't believe it took you that long to figure out,\" Lucifer responded with a satisfied smirk. \"Now go tell Mrs. Palin about her big promotion.\" \n\nGod stood up to leave, his head hung in shame. He really needed to rethink things if this was his perfect match. \"So who did you end up picking?\" God asked Lucifer as they prepared to part ways.\n\n\"Me? I haven't picked one yet,\" \n\nGod's eyes widened in anger. \"Me-Dammit, Lu. I can't leave before you do. Who are you going to pick?\" \n\nLucifer's smirk deepened as he began walking backwards. \"I'm manipulative, hedonistic, a liar, and disrespectful, *and* I'm heading to get booze. Who do you think I'm gonna pick, dude?\" \n\nGod thought for a moment before it hit him like a ton of bricks. His eyes lowering into an irritated glare. \n\n\"A sorority girl,\" they both said in unison. \n\n\"Enjoy your break, big guy,\" Lucifer said as he turned around and made his way to the liquor store. \n\n\"Fuck you, Lu,\" God replied before ascending to the sky and heading towards fucking Alaska.\n\n" ]

[ 2, 4, 8 ]

[ "1421183218", "1421183238", "1421182224" ]

[ "This is not actually very far from the real historical events.", "The ship had been overtaken in the bay. The men, in their eagerness to kiss dry land, had flooded ashore with their delight on their sleeves.\n\nThey feasted on coconuts and seagulls that first night. The remaining ale drowned the sailors in their victory: they were the first circumnavigating Europeans to reach India.\n\nWhen the captain first awoke to flint knives at his throat, he scoffed at the prank. He was dragged from his quarters on the Sao Gabriel to the deck, where his predicament dawned on him and his incredulity led way to cursing. These were not his men. His captors' body paint and crudely carved jewelry were foreign to him. Their tongue was harsh and unintelligible. His men laid on the deck with their throats cut.\n\nThe captain was tossed into the hollowed trunk of an ancient tree floating below his magnificent Galley. This crude tube carried him to shore where he was dragged, amidst chanting savages and the dismembered bodies of his men, through the Indian wilderness.\n\nDesperately requesting a parley, the captain was pulled through the sand and dirt into a camp with blazing campfires and beating drums. The hands that had so purposefully clasped his limbs released him into the soil at the feet of a stone chair. The captain, regaining his wits, turned his head up to the occupant. To his immense surprise, the man was not Indian. He was as white as a European.\n\nThis tattooed and decorated man looked down at the captain. The chieftain seemed surprised.\n\n\"You came for the new world?\" He whispered in a tongue bitingly familiar to the captain. \"You found it.\"\n\nThis European madman lifted himself from his stone seat, emitting a gutteral scream. It was echoed ten-fold by the savages around him. The captain shouted for help as he was dragged across the sands. He pleaded for mercy as he was impaled. He screamed for salvation as he was roasted above the fire.", "The King wanted More. More, he said. No amount of gold, slaves, even concubines could satisfy his lust for material wealth. He had been there for many moons, more than the people could remember. Those who were there say he defeated the bravest warriors of the tribes with the power of thunder. \"He proved his divinity, by calling down the voice of the heavens and felling the mighty as if they were trees,\" The elders would say. But he was a cruel God, viewing the lives of those who worshiped him as meaningless, merely a means of obtaining his desires.\n\nTh King was a pale man, white as fresh sand. he brought with him many men like him, and treated them slightly better than his followers. They were allowed the leftovers of his \"festivities,\" which involved the taking of the women of the land and \"teaching them the truth of His love.\" Many woman did not survive His love, and those that did would never speak of anything, just sit there in silence; not eating, not sleeping, slowly starving to death.\n\nThe proudest men make the poorest beasts. The King started his new society off with the chaining of the priests. The men who saw the Faces of the Gods were latched together and sent underground, made to toil lest their King send the priests to the Gods. The priests did not last 10 moons. A few threw down their picks, and the thunder of the Gods was the last sound they heard. The rest were made to eat the bodies of their friends, and any who refused were made to suffer the same fate of the rebels. Finally, the Great King paraded the last of the priests in front of the populace, and beheaded them with strange swords that glistened like the sea, and cut like a beam of moonlight.\n\nThe King never conversed with any but his pale-skinned brethren. He spoke a strange language, nothing like the language of the people. The closest a native could get to the Great King was a lackey, who had not the power to avoid the mines if he mistranslated the words of their God. What sort of God is unable to understand his followers?\n\nThen one day a pale man became sick. He coughed and vomited, until both actions caused blood to spew forth from his lips. Soon, many of the pale-men had this coughing sickness. The were set aside, forced to take one of their mighty vessels out to sea, never seen again. But still the sickness persisted. The native men were strangely immune to this disease, it only ravaged the pale-men.\n\nOne day the King started coughing. The next day he began to cough violently, and a speck or two of blood would fly out of his Godly mouth. The day after that he was in bed, with no one to spread his word to the people, no one to share the last words of a dying God. The last and greatest of the Pale-men, reduced to spewing forth his Godly Blood in a series of coughs, slowly drained of life.\n\nThat was many, many moons ago. His mighty vessels remain, merely rotted hulks waiting to die. His mines have closed, his gold sealed within as a tribute to his Majesty. The last child of the Pale-Men, conceived during one of the Kings many \"festivities,\" is now an old man. Strange shapes have appeared on the horizon, bearing strange symbols on their sails. The people take pleasure in knowing that, if nothing else, they have the God-King Columbus on their side." ]

[ 1, 2, 8 ]

[ "1421224211", "1421217195", "1421207159" ]

[ "Wait....*Youtube* subtitles?", "I got out of bed and stretched, going into the bathroom. \"Ugh, my hair's such a mess!\" I said, ignoring the words that appeared backwards in the mirror before me. I'd got used to it, everything someone said, everything I heard would appear before me. Real life subtitles. At times, it was useful. . . but in a crowded mall? It was sheer hell, all those people talking and all the words shoving themselves in your face. I'd tried the internet, to see if anyone else might have the same problem, but Reddit and 4Chan thought I was crazy. I even got hate mail for it, so eventually I just stopped asking. \n\nI dressed for work and headed out, sticking in some classical music on the radio so I wouldn't have to listen, and therefore see anyone talking and could drive in peace. Pulling up outside my place of work, I headed inside. This was the one place where I felt at peace. Smiling at Janice, the receptionist, who, as usual, was busy on the phone, I mouthed a 'Hi' and slipped into the classroom where I worked. Standing by my desk, I smiled at the students seated before me. I raised my hands and began to sign." ]

[ 2, 4 ]

[ "1421211509", "1421217010" ]

[ " It had been nearly 20 years since the message was received at the World Science and Technology Academy Space division in Ulm Germany. Top level code breakers and linguists had been at work since moments after the Electrical Engineers and Physicists had determined the transmission was in fact non-human. It was a breakthrough that was desperately needed as the WSTA:Space has nearly shut down after private industries in the United States, France, and Russia began dominating the missions to Mars and deep probes. The leading Governments of the program held secret meetings that night to conceal the message from the public until more was learned. The Governments brought forth their best recruits from their own public and private sectors and swore them into secrecy before abducting them from home, work, or transit. They would not let anyone know of this message even if it meant tricking or forcing those who worked on the transmission.\n\n It had been 15 years since John had begun working on the message. The message was an oddity to him, it began as a puzzle he hated working on. He had only just graduated from school with a Doctoral degree in linguistics when service members of England had approached him. Two weeks late John was kidnapped from his house and drugged as he was transported to a secret facility. Here John worked tirelessly has new snippets of information was processed by a team of code breakers. The message was short however and he wasn’t given much to work with as he progressed daily. Ever so slowly however, a worm of doubt wriggled in to John’s brain. He noticed peculiarities in the information he was given. Mostly, they were minor nuances that most linguists would account to the idiosyncrasies of the code breakers as the passed information along. He chuckled slightly looking through the latest piece that the code breakers were able to send him. In bold letters at the bottom the message wrote, “**ALL INFORMATION PROCESSED. NO NEW DATA TO COME.**” It was in this last message, the information passed along, that John’s worries were confirmed. He was not given the whole picture.\n\n John knew that as he worked he would pass what he learned along to the Council that would confirm or reject any advancements he and his fellow linguists would produce. The linguists were kept separated from each other and were told that it was so they wouldn’t alter the others opinion or approach. That made sense but working alone on this project for so long was gruesome, boring, and above all unrelenting. But now, John realized they were kept apart so that they wouldn’t know the meaning of the message when it was discovered and that made John very uneasy. He would have to work away out of this situation and he know the Council would never let him speak with the others or see the whole picture. However, over the years, the Council grew more lax and disinterested in the whole project. Last year John began to be allowed to work on the project at whatever hours he saw fit, as long as the quality and, more importantly it seemed, quantity weren’t reduced. Now John thought they might even let him work from his confined room, outside of the watchful gaze of security and the Council.\n\n He was right, the council, knowing no new information was to come, set up a workstation in John’s room and he was allowed to bring items to work on into his room. John began working from their normally. Slowly over the course of days, John began going in later and later to gather pieces of information until finally, he was going in after all the others had been done with work and the security guards were complacent. It was then that John began stealing others work making copies of it in his room and bringing back the information to his room and copying it before returning the information. Over weeks he worked to steal all the information and all the progress the other linguists had made. Once he had all the information John set about organizing it all. He only made about halfway through all the documents before he stopped and shook his head. The Message was short and it repeated on a loop at varying intervals, having even this much information given to him at once it was clear to see. The parts he had been working on for 15 years were indelible. * Help . Help … Help Help ……… Help ….. Help.*\n\n Help, it was all the message read. For 15 tireless, uneasy years John worked on this message to find it was so simple. He knew he had to take the message to the Council but he had a nagging doubt that the civilization that sent the message would still be in dire need of someone’s help. As John approached the Council room with his report in hand he wept. His life had been upturned by this ordeal and he was kept in confinement for 15 years, not only that he directly disobeyed his orders from the Council in his work when he stole the parts to form the whole transmission. John only hoped that he would not be punished for his wrong-doing, instead he hoped they, and the rest of the world, would praise him for his work and his accomplishment. He knew that would not be the case. As John detailed his report the Council stood, thanked him for his finding and gave a slight nod to the guard who stood watch. The guard escorted John back to the room he had called home for years and crossed the threshold one last time weeping. Then, it was over. The guard shot John with no remorse, no emotions. It was over for John and the World would never know of his part.\n", "The bunker buzzed with excitement. The unmanned EtherZephyr Probe had been picking up unusual signals. Possibly signs of intelligent life, out by the Horsehead Nebula. This could be the greatest scientific breakthrough since the discovery of the ice-whales on Pluto.\n\nEveryone was called in. Experts from all of the Federations. The bunker was packed. There wasn’t even any room to sit down. I stared intently at my monitor, decoding the strange signals that we had received.\n\n“What does it say?” the newly-elected cross-Federation commander asked me.\n\n“Hold on,” I said, “I’m almost finished.” The decryption was tricky. It wasn’t extremely difficult--not when you look back at it. But it was just so different. Unlike anything I’d ever seen.\n\nA drop of sweat fell down the side of my face. I took a deep breath.\n\n“I think I’ve got it,” I said, my eyes bright with excitement.\n\n“Is it a message?” the commander said excitedly.\n\n“Yes,” I said, nodding vigorously. The room erupted into shouts and cheers.\n\nAfter a moment, the commander called for quiet. “What does the message say?” he asked.\n\nSilence saturated the room. Everyone was afraid to move. Afraid to breathe. They all stared at me with wide, exuberant eyes.\n\n“HALP!” I said.\n\n“Excuse me?” The commander said.\n\n“Sorry Commander,” I said, “The message reads H-A-L-P exclamation point.”\n\n“We’re receiving another transmission!” The satellite signal officer said, gripping onto his hat.\n\n“What does it say?” The Commander demanded. \n\n“It says HALP,” I said, “it says P-L-Z ---- H-A-L-P ----- M-E ---- N-A-O, exclamation point, exclamation point, one.”\n\nThe commander’s cigar quivered with fury. “What does this mean!” he shouted at the room full of experts, computer terminals, blinky lights, and complimentary coffee. He bellowed with such force that Frank the IT guy’s toupee fell off.\n\n“There’s more!” the satellite signal officer exclaimed.\n\n“Decode it for godsakes,” the commander ordered. Everyone stared intently at me, hanging my every word. Except for Frank the IT guy, who was sitting cross-legged in the corner, heaving with silent sobs as he tore apart his toupee and mourned his ruined follical reputation.\n\n“It says HALP,” I said, “It says HALP, I’VE FALLEN. I’VE FALLEN AND I CAN’T GET UP.”\n\n“And?” the commander asked.\n\n“Um,” I said, “That’s it. That’s all it says.”\n\nEveryone looked around the room at each other. This was the point at which we all noticed Frank. I tried to tactfully ignore his emotional outburst. Cynthia, our halitosis-ridden administrative assistant, waddled over towards Frank to provide some condescending words of comfort. The rest of us--the teethbrushers in the group--ignored her and tended to the situation at hand.\n\n“What should we do?” I asked the commander.\n\nHe paused dramatically.\n\n“It is our mission. Our solemn duty. We must find this poor troubled soul. We must find him... And we must halp.”\n\nEveryone in the room stood up and saluted. Even Frank the IT guy.", "The dark side of physics is that nothing can exceed the speed of light. \n\nBy 2105, humanity had entered a golden age. Technology had all but eliminated disease and extended pleasurable human life considerably. Elemental synthesis eradicated hunger and created an egalitarian society that would have made Marx proud. The world's greatest minds had then turned their eyes skyward, determined to push out into the endlessness that is space.\n\nHumanity sent ships to Mars, which was quickly colonized and turned into a fertile paradise through cutting-edge meteorological engineering. Next on the list was Mercury, almost uninhabitable, but a boundless source of clean energy, thanks to its proximity to the sun. Humans set up energy-collection stations all over the planet's surface, allowing mankind the fuel for his adventures to the stars. As they pushed outward, humanity sent constant signals to every corner of the galaxy, hoping, *praying*, for an answer of any kind. But the signals came back unanswered, if they came back at all, or merely barreled on into the infinite reaches of space.\n\nAs the humans began to regularly leave their solar system, the hope of finding other intelligent life intensified. Crews were sent on decades-long missions to explore different planets and star systems. In a welcome departure from the divisiveness that characterized the humans just a scant century early, twenty-second century humanity longed to share its gifts and talents with the wider universe.\n\nIn 2141, humanity received its first, and only, communication from alien life. Embedded inside a string of prime numbers, the message \"help\" was encoded in every possible language, articulation, and permutation. Humanity was galvanized - at last, contact from an intelligent life-form to share in the exploration of the stars! Top scientists abandoned their projects to parse whatever could be gotten from the message, but only the cryptic \"help\" remained.\n\nThe origin of the message was 150 light-years away, farther, by far, than any Earthling had dared to travel. It was believed that no ship could withstand such a voyage. Mankind was desperate, and a crew was quickly assembled to attempt the grueling journey. They began the preparations to launch, but before they could embark on their mission, the transmission stopped. The string of prime numbers, with the pleas for help, faded to cosmic silence 33 hours after it had begun.\n\nEvery year, on April 25, humanity collectively remembers, and grieves for, the unknown civilization that presumably was destroyed on this day. As technology evolved, longer stretches of travel became possible, but a distance of 150 light-years remained insurmountable. Today, mankind is plagued by by the question of who the senders of the message were, and what became of them.\n\nThe mystery may be lost forever to the abyss of time; there has never since been a message from the cosmos." ]

[ 1, 1, 2 ]

[ "1421299466", "1421300779", "1421298415" ]

[ "I sat in my chair. I was awaiting my coffee. I stared into the void. The lingering smell of coffee painted my mornings. I flipped through the newspaper. The media slammed a murderer for his poor sense of morality. I delved deeper into the article until I was interrupted by the young girl serving my coffee. I prepared my lips and lifted the cup from the fountain of youth. It didn't taste mediocre. It had to taste like the coffee from heaven. But it didn't. I was slightly puzzled and put the cup down. I stared at it. It was the wrong coffee.\n\nI sat there for awhile, trying to understand what I had just done. Never had I started my day with something else than MY coffee. What if my lack of faithfulness prevented me from beholding its pure beauty? I had just pressed my lips onto another cup. A filthy one. I ran to the bathroom to wash the taste out. But it wouldn't come out. I began to worry. What if I could never taste it like I had before? I felt like a comet already burnt out after its short moment to shine. It was like my life had reached a sudden end of its pinnacle, only to trod down a long, almost never ending epilogue. I thought of the days of growing old. Maybe I would never experience love like this again. \n\nEvery day after became slightly greyer. I watched people from inside my car, exiting and entering Starbucks. People with families, people with loved ones, people with their favorite coffees. I sat there in my car park, staring. It was fun I guess. Maybe I would do this next week, and the week after and maybe every week or at least two. I was old, and my coffee, although it was made the same and had the same ingredients, the experience, that would never be the same. ", "I gave my 6 year old niece, who tragically had lived her short life afflicted with cerebal palsy, down's syndrome and leukemia the drink she had ordered. One sip and she fell to the ground convulsing in agony as her soy allergy emerged and on the litter strewn sidewalk outside of Starbucks she drew her last gasping breathe. No one stopped.", "I still paid for it. I always do. Always say I won't, but then- in that flurry I panic and fold. It's stupid. People get that shit fixed all the time, they just say \"Hey- this isn't what I ordered.\" But me, I just say thank you- this time I actually fucked THAT part up and said something like \"thanksyours\". Then that flush- you know the one- hit, and it was past time to just get out. Bumped the fucking potted plant on my way and almost caused the whole place to notice me. I was short of breath when I got to the car. Over a fucking coffee. \n\nI'd haven't wanted to admit it, but the truth is I'm pretty sure that was the last time. I'm done folding under tiny amounts of pressure. Done panicking over bullshit. Done with my stupid job and my stupid car and stupid face and weird body and stupid fake friends. Done listening to my Mom be all didactic to a 41 year old man. I'm gonna be brave. I'm tired of all this, and I'm gonna do ONE FUCKING THING right. I'm not even going t", "I don't go out much these days. Just trips to and from work, the store and the coffee shop. The fact I even get out of bed at all is an achievement that should garner a plague or some sort of award. I mean what's the point. This coffee shop isn't my normal coffee shop, but I felt like stares given freely to the sad quiet woman at the shop down the street from my home was getting to be a bit much.\n\nQuietly I sit here in this unfamiliar, uncomfortable Starbucks and wait for my Caffé Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk, hating that I now have to spend my life alone. We weren't married, but we were going to be. I found the ring hidden in his things when I cleaned out his apartment. Our apartment. I basically lived there. I hate stupid drunk drivers. Ever moment of my day is spent thinking about Alan. My parents said he was childish, but they didn't see him like I did. He cared, really cared about me and helping me get ahead. The past two years were the most confident I have ever been. And now that is all shot to hell because some 19 year old drank himself stupid and took it upon himself to drive into my boyfriend. \n\nThey call three more names, none of them mine. Each person grabs their cup with a look of optimism that they didn't have moments before and I don't think I will ever have again. \n\nI am staring at my shoes so hard you'd think there were pictures of Ryan Gosling naked printed on them, that is how uncomfortable I feel right at this moment. Any time there are strangers around it feels like they know. They can all tell that I am left solo in this world and everything that made me worthwhile has vanished. \n\n\"Double Chocolaty Chip Créme Frappuccino for Tracy!!\" the short barista with the bad mustache said. Wait, what? That's my name, but that isn't what I ordered. Hold on, maybe there is another Tracy waiting. I don't want to freak out, but to be honest, I have already started to freak out. I stop examining my shoes long enough to look at the people around me. Three men, none of them looks like a Tracy. They also aren't reacting to the barista's calls. \nThat's Alan's drink. I know it like the back of my hand. \"Honey, get me a Double CCC Frap for me, you're the best!\" He always said \"You're the best\" after he asked me to do something for him. He knew if you flatter someone a little bit at the end of the request the odds of them protesting the first half of the request went way down. And I fell for it. \n\n\"Double Chocolaty Chip Créme Frappuccino for Tracy!!\" the barista said. This was the fourth time. And now he is staring directly at me. He knows this is my drink. The men standing around me can use their brains to realize that the only woman, all by herself, is probably the owner of the drink not being claimed. They also look a little mad, this is holding up them getting their own coffees. \n\nDid I order Alan's 'Double CCC Frap' without thinking? No, I don't think I did. Oh, who am I kidding, I have been in autopilot. It is entirely possible I just said it. I reach into my pocket and pull out my receipt. \"Frappuccino/Caffé Vanilla /Light/nf milk\", I am not insane. I did order correctly. \n\nMy brain is working overtime while tears start to pour down my face. That is Alan's drink. I ordered my drink, my grown up drink. A room full of strangers don't get it. There is a candy coffee drink with my name on it that I didn't order. It always said Alan on the side of that cup. They don't know Alan. The barista doesn't know Alan. He doesn't know me. Though he will be telling everyone about the drink he made that made some woman explode into a heaping mess of tears. \n\nI grab the drink. I don't know what else to do. Explain myself to these people? HOW IS IT HIS DRINK? I ordered one drink. The receipt says I was right. I have had my drink order wrong before. It usually requires me tasting it and knowing something is a little off. But I have never ordered my drink and gotten the same drink that my dead boyfriend used to order. \n\nI am not a spiritual or religious person, but part of me at this moment thought that if I did believe in all that stuff, it would make this situation easier to handle. Instead I walk out the door and can only think that if I get to my car I will be safe. \n\nI try the handle and it won't work. I hit the button, the door should be unlocked. One hand on the handle, the other holds my boyfriend's coffee that he will never drink. \n\nThe alarm goes off. Something about the piercing noise feels like I am being stabbed in the chest. Crying, scared and not sure why my car is locking me out and not what this day was supposed to be. I am hitting the alarm button on my car trying to get this to stop. \n\nThis isn't my car. Oh god, I am such a mess. My car's alarm starts going off one aisle over. I quickly run to my car. Tears on my face, mascara running, I am not making it to work today. \n\nClimbing into my car I place the coffee in the cup holder. What the fuck? I just yelled that at a coffee cup. How? I can't catch my breath. I want to call my mom, but she won't understand. I want someone else to explain this to me. How do I order my coffee? I pull out the receipt again to check it. Yes, it is my 'Caffé Light Frapp with no fat milk'. That is what I ordered. \n\n\"Thank hun, you're perfect to me\", that's what I got in response every time I picked one up for him. There in my cup holder, one coffee cup with a drink that earned me that response every time. But not this time. Never again. \nWell, I am going to cry here until security comes and asks me if I am ok. I don't know what else to do. \n", "He looked around, chuckling softly to himself at the thought that everyone else here was just having a normal day. A normal Starbucks. A normal coffee.\n\nIt’s funny how the small things had become so magnified in his mind on the inside. The scents of a spring breeze after the rain, the taste of his favorite beverage. Over the years it had gone from a fantasy to a fixation. \n\nIt was the hope that had kept him going. Hope that one day he’d sit here again, like a normal person. He’d daydreamed about it, staring out through the bars of his cell and imaging he was looking out of the coffee shop window onto a bustling street corner.\n\nAs the time had passed, and his appeals had been in vain, it no longer mattered whether he was guilty or not. All that mattered was that someday he’d get out, walk down the street, order…. This. He’d visualized every detail. Caffe Vanilla Light Frap, no fat milk. It was all perfect, everything just as he’d imagined for so long. \n\nHe wasn’t a young man any more, not like last time he’d sat here. He’d seen the sands slip through his hourglass, known that he hadn’t long to go. He’d become more desperate. He knew it was wrong to be involved. He knew that the others had taken advantage of him and his hard earned job in the prison laundry. But he knew he had to have this again, one last time before the end. So he’d gone along with it. \n\nHe knew he wouldn’t stay ahead of them for long, in fact he thought he could hear them coming for him already, but he didn’t care.\n\nAs the sirens drew nearer and the door to the store crashed open to admit the wave of armed men, he savored the moment. It was worth it. He watched as the crowd in the store reacted, as the US marshal stormed toward him seemingly in slow motion. He lifted the steaming cup to his lips, drew in the aroma, and finally took a sip.\n\n“Wait… this isn’t…..” he managed to utter, as he was knocked from his seat and slammed to the floor.\n", "\"Poxopox?\" she said, with hint of questioning in her voice. I knew that she was judging but I digress. I picked up what I thought I ordered with a slight nod, not a full one, just enough to for that bitch to notice. I wanted her to feel regret for what she did. Then, while almost out the door, I adjusted my grip of the warm paper cup, then brought her up to my lips and took a glorious swig. As her juices touched mine I felt something wasn't right. The soul, the emotion was... gone. It was like the breath was taken right out of me.\"^Why...\" I whispered. The drink that I knew, and I loved with every cell in my body... This wasn't her... The memories we had, the laughter, the pain, it was gone. A tear roll down my flush cheek, across my lips down to my neck beard where it lay to rest like my sweet Caffe Vanilla Frappuccino's memories. \nI turned to face the people of the starbucks. \"BETRAYAL\" I exclaimed, launching the traitor into the ether. The vessel hit the mug display. Like my heart, scattering its life in all directions. \"HEARKEN, who be the one who take her from me?!\". The heathen raised her beast like face and gazed upon me with her beady eyes. \"Sir, is everything okay?\" \"What?\" I said in disbelief. \"Have you no sense at all *wench*?\" She squinted her eyes in fear and pleaded, \"Not again. Sir I think we are going to have to escort you out.\" I gasp. \"Escort... Me!? Have you no moral? I have been oppressed!\" She waltz *mockingly* around the counter to where I stand and pointed her gnarled hand at the door. \"It's time for you to leave.\" I walked towards the exit, each step felt heavier and heavier. I look up and see the light of the world outside this hell but I collapse. Weeping I gaze around at what this universe has come to. I take my fadora off my head and lay there thinking about what it might be like if she didnt ruin my life. I lay there, sobbing. It took me *minutes* to get over her. I still think about her to this day. *I love you Caffe Vanilla Frappeccino.*", "I finish ordering my drink and stood at the other end of the counter. Mom gave me a Starbucks gift card for Christmas; going out for coffee had become a luxury for us and a memory of past times. I fiddled with the few coins in my pocket and stared at my flip phone. How many times I had played that snake game....\n\nI was lost in thought when the barista called my name. *That was quick, there are a few people next to me that should have been called first*.\n\nAnother hand reaches for the same cup. That familiar scar on the back of the hand. Memories flash by - laughter on a swing, night time stories, early mornings and fishing, that first bicycle ride.\n\n\"Dad?\"", "“Sara!” The barista bellowed, his voice rising like a trumpet over the chattering fanfare of the morning Starbucks crowd. \n\n\nSara swallowed hard and stood up. Sound and light dimmed momentarily, but with a shake of her head, the world righted itself. \n\nA throng of smiling, laughing teenagers had congregated in-front of the pickup bar. \n\n“Excuse me,” she whispered. \n\nNo one in the group acknowledged her.\n\n“Excuse me,” she barely squeezed out again, her vocal chords tightening, drowning her voice. \n\nNo one moved. The teens continued to talk. \n\nShe stood there, maybe a minute, feeling like a dog staring out of her cage. Her hands fiddled with the straw in her jacket pocket. \n\n“Sara!” The barista called again. \n\nHer heart leapt into her throat when one of the teens glanced at her. \n\n“Guys, we’re being assholes. People got to get their fix.” The teen said, smiling and lightly pushing his friend. \n\n“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, as she quickly snatched her Frappaincno(howthefuckdoyouspellthis) and scuttled away. \n\n“Bitches get cranky without their frap fix, man.” Sara heard the boy say as she stepped out the door. \n\nShe made it to the curb in-front of her car before the world was squeezed through a tube and her ears buzzed. Wobbling, she sat down. \n\nThere were 80 calories in a light vanilla frappainco made with non-fat milk. \n\nThat swallowed up a lot of her self-allotted calories, leaving her to two halved celery sticks for dinner. \n\nBut, with this cold, wet cup in her hands, the green logo resting below her thumb---\n\nShe turned to stare through the window, at the group of teens now seated at a table, snickering and smiling, eyes bright with all the good that could possibly be---\n\nShe could be like them. \n\nTurning to her drink, she realized suddenly it didn’t look quite right, darker than normal. \n\nShe took a sip and held the cold liquid in her mouth. It was rich and chocolaty. Her parched taste buds tingled. \n\nHer stomach dropped. This wasn’t vanilla. This wasn’t light. This wasn’t her drink. \n\n\nShe swished the liquid around, trying to determine just what this concoction was. \n\nDouble chocolate chip, most likely. Could she afford this sip? \n\nPutting her drink down, she scrambled for her purse, pulling out a black folder. She flipped to the tab labelled ‘Starbucks.’\n\n210 calories. 41 grams of fat. \n\nAs the shards of ice and cream melted in her mouth, she began her mental calculations. How much would this sip cost? And could she be trusted to have one more? Two sips? Maybe baby sips? \n\n\nSuddenly, the door behind her swung open with a jarring thwap. The liquid slid down her throat.\n\n\nShe felt its every move, a demon dashing down the winding pipes in her chest. \n\nTwo girls walked out, their own cups in their hands, logos outwards. They were sinewy young women, their shirts tight and their bellies tighter. The only thing that bounced and swayed on them was their hair. \n\nThey were goddesses in their own right, Sara realized, curling up on herself. \n\nShe had to be one of them, had to be, so she put the straw back in her mouth and sucked. \n\nThe ladies passed her with little more than a glance. \n\nSara could not stop sucking and gulping. Drinking was suddenly an instinct that was unstoppable. It piled into her, the ice and the milk and the chocolate, her stomach lurching with the sudden assault. \n\n‘It is not what you are. It is not what you are.’ This is what her body was telling her, she realized as tears started crawling down her face. She was being overridden by the instincts of the beasts, the wolves in everyone that lurk in the jungles of the body.\n\n\nHer straw crackled as she sucked the last drip dry. Dropping the empty cup, she turned to the Starbucks behind her, to the window where the teens gesticulated, laughed, poked one another, where they were human. \n\n\nShe licked her lips, tasting salt and chocolate. \n", "“You think I’m a joke!” He screamed into the receiver as he paced frantically across the floor. “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?!”\n\nEvery eye watched him closely, afraid of what he would do next. Although the voice was muffled, I could hear the negotiator on the other end of the phone begging forgiveness, desperate to assuage the gunman’s anger. \n\n“An honest mistake! You’d like for me to believe that, wouldn’t you,” he yelled. “I asked for a Caffe Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk. Do you hear me? And you had the audacity to give me this swill? This Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with Soy? Did I ask for that? Did I? You’re right, I didn’t.” \n\nHis voice got even louder.\n\n “Oh, I’m sure it was an honest mistake. I’m sure it was also a mistake that you have the entire police force outside of this store. I’m sure it was a mistake that you tried to rush the building. I’m sure it was a mistake that I fail to see a helicopter ready for me. And I’m sure it was just a mistake that YOU HAVE FAILED TO DO A SINGLE THING I’VE ASKED!”\n\nHe took a deep breath then calmly said, “I’m going to make you wish you learned from your mistakes.” \n\nHe slowly placed the phone back on its receiver. I would have given anything for him to go back to being angry. The fact that he was now so suddenly deliberate in his actions scared me the most. I saw him walk up to a young man who had probably never shaved a day in his life. The gunman put the gun to the boy's head. The boy looked as if he was going to try and say something between his sobs, but the sound of a gunshot was all I heard. \n", "\"Excuse me, miss...miss...I ordered a Caffe Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk, not this Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuc...\" *choking sound* Gasping, you try and choke out the words, \"I....I....I....ca...ca...brea...\", everything goes black. Those damned chocolate chip.", "\"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!\"\n\nMy daughter hadn't stopped screaming in an hour. Nothing quite pierces the ear drums as the excited shouts of an 8 year old girl on her first trip to Disneyworld. She was almost leaping out of her seat, restrained only by her seatbelt, Mickey ears waving all over the place. It seemed like it had been forever since I'd seen her happy - not since Susan's accident. \n\nStill smiling myself, I rolled down the window.\n\n\"That'll be $8.57, sir.\" The barista handed me my coffee and Anna's muffin.\n\n\"Here, honey, hold these for Daddy while I pay for everything.\" Anna carefully grabbed the cup of coffee and the bag while I dug out my wallet. Grabbing some change from the cupholder, I pulled out 8 dollars and began to count quarters. As I handed the change to the barista, a few coins slipped out of my hand. \n\nI quickly opened the door to pick up the dime, and I reached up to hand the coin back, I noticed the barista's staring colorless face and gaping mouth.\n\n\"Whaat's going...\" I said, turning around.\n\nMy daughter lay slumped in her chair, coffee spilled everywhere. Her eyes had swollen shut, her tongue hung out of her mouth, and a blistering rash covered her face, neck, and her hands where they emerged from her jacket.\n\nI shrieked. All I could see was the small, cursive writing in sharpie on the cup splashed on Anna's lap \"uccino, soy\"...\n\n\"Call a fucking ambulance!\" I yelled at the barista and ripped through Anna's bag, the center console, and the dash looking for the epi pen that SHOULD have been there.\n\nMy daughter had stopped screaming. ", "She used to love that drink, before the chemo made her too sick to eat. Maybe I'll take it with me when I go visit her. I can leave it for her, to remind her I still remember. That is, if she's watching. She would have started University this year. Her mom and I were so proud.", "I put the warm cup to my lips in gleeful anticipation. As the hot liquid met my tongue, I was ready to be engulfed in my daily coffeine paradise. But then it hit me. Something was wrong. This was not my Caffé Vanilla Light Frappucino with no fat milk. This was something else. Something I never asked for. Something I never wanted.\n\nWith trembling fingers, I opened the lid, and beheld the abomination. Thick pieces of chocolate chips were floating in the around like sharks circling their prey. My heart skipped a beat as I realized the horrible truth. A tear left my eye and fell down my chin.\n\n\"No,\" I said, almost as in denial. \"No... No. NO!\" A few other customers in the store began looking oddly at me, perhaps noticing the sweat on my forehead or my shaking legs.\n \nThen I rose the cup into the air, and screamed at the top of my lungs.\n\n\"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!\"\n\nI threw it on the ground. The liquid spilled on the floor, spreading like a dark tsunami. The entire store was now watching me while I fell to the floor, both hands and knees in the pool of coffee. My eyes were wide open in despair. I was breathing like a rhinoceros in heat.\n\n\"Sir, are you okay?\" a young woman asked me. \"What is wrong?\"\n\nI attempted to answer her question despite knowing that this naive young girl could never even get close to comprehend what I had just experienced.\n\n\"This... is not... what I ordered...\" The words were like knives in my throat. \"This... is a Double Cocolaty Chip Créme Frappuccino with soy milk... I had ordered... a Caffé Vanilla Light... Frappuccino... with no fat milk!\"\n\n\"Oh.\" The woman looked confused. \"Sir, please calm down. It's just coffee.\"\n\nShe shouldn't have said that. But could I blame her for being so naive? I gave her a furious look with my blood-shot eyes, and was almost surprised when my glare of hatred didn't straight up melt her on the spot.\n\n\"Just coffee?\" I slowly rose from the floor. \"Just. Coffee?!\" I took a step towards the woman.\n\n\"Sir, calm down. What are you doing?\" The woman was frozen in place.\n\n\"JUST COFFEE?!\" I rushed towards her like a cheetah towards a gazelle. My arms grabbed her throat, clenching it with with all the force in my body. \"JUST COFFEE? JUST COFFEE?! JUST. FUCKING. COFFEE?!\"\n\n\nThis is the last thing I remember before waking up in the hospital. The doctors told me that the woman is fine, but shocked, and that freak-outs like this can be a common symptom of an extreme overdose of caffeine. No one is pressing charges, but I am being asked to let low on the coffee for a while.\n\nAnd to think that all this had to happen because some lazy barista couldn't get their shit together.", "As Alastair received his drink, he smiled. It was finally happening - the final requirement to collect his fortune. Why his grandfather had given him a single chance to order 400 Starbucks drinks in 400 days in a particular order he had no idea, but the attorney had assured him that all he had to do was fulfill those requirements and the money would be his instead of being burned. \n\n\"I think he just really didn't feel like people took him seriously,\" the attorney had said. Well, now Alastair was going to take his grandfather seriously. Even though the two of them had never met, Aastair felt grateful for the man who had given him this chance, and for the other person who had tracked him down and fronted the money for rehab. There was a family that had said they would let him move in to their house for only $10,000, and his blossoming relationship with their daughter was one of the highlights he had most enjoyed these last months. And the company he and Julie were planning to start, of course! Naturally, the credit card debt was racking up; around $4 a day for ordering specialty drinks at a different Starbucks each day. The traveling expenses had especially required significant investment. But really, $10 million would be absolutely worth it. This was the last day.\n\nAs he reached for his drink, the witnesses and Julie popped streamers and cheered. He reached for his drink, the attorney and two witnesses standing there to make sure the final step was completed. The rest had been verified by live video streaming. A Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk - it was time. He screamed with joy, so glad he was taken care of for life! He tasted it, and...something felt wrong. He looked down - the cup was marked as a Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino with soy. Alastair quickly tried to hide it from the lawyer, but too late - he had seen his look of panic and stepped closer. Let me see that, he said, smiling with his mouth but not his eyes. Alastair handed it over; the attorney looked, and said, \"This drink is a Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino with soy, rather than the required Caffe Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. You get nothing.\" \n\nAfter a surprisingly short number of seconds, Julie, the witnesses, and the attorney walked out of the Starbucks, and Alastair asked for an application before being told there were no openings.", "Relax, relax they just got my order wrong. Everything's ok. You're going to be fine. There are people who still care about you in the world. \n\nNo there fucking aren't. Even this bitch didn't care enough to listen to my order and she had only know me for twelve seconds. She knows I'm nothing. \n\nHey, hey you're great just grab the coffee and sit down. Enjoy it and relax. Maybe it's good. \n\nAm I that weak that Id just take it without saying anything? That Id lay down like that to some minimum wage bean jockey with the memorization skills of a goldfish. Man am I weak. \nYou're not weak you're courteous. It's not worth causing a scene over. Don't cry. Hold those tears back. \n\nI'm weak and I'm nothing. I can't believe this happened on today of all days. I guess it's just reaffirming it. I'm positive now. The ropes at home lets just get it over with. \n\nYou don't mean that now just grab the coffee, relax and enjoy it. \n\n\"Sir? Is there anything else I can help you with?\" \n\nI didn't even look at her as I grabbed the drink, walked out the door, got in my car and drove home. ", "I have nothing in my life, i have managed to miss or screw up every good opportunity in my life, i go home to an empty house and watch the same mind numbing television day in and day out, i then go to bed and drag myself to a job i hate. The only good thing in my life is getting my daily caffee vanilla light Frappuccino with no fat milk, and seeing the cute batista that always makes it for me. I pray that one day she'll remember me, that i wont be just another pointless stranger that she'll forget as soon as i leave the store. So im gonna do it, i walk in and tell her \" i will take my usual\"....... She gave me a Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino with soy.... i have nothing.", "I'm not sure what happened, Officer. The barista handed Kevin his order and Kevin started to shake. He looked at the barista and began screaming. We all stood there gaping not knowing what to do. It was so unreal. I mean how could one person screw up an order so badly. It-It was contagious. That could have happened to us! This wave of anger roared over all of us in the queue and then we attacked. I remember the screams and the blood pumping and then the blood spraying. I can't believe...I can't believe we did that. I mean, how...God Dammit what were we thinking? Now none of us can get our frappies. What were we thinking?", "I had hoped to be in town for a few weeks, but now that she's gone and buried it is time to go. I pack my things into the car and think about the long drive home. I pull into the Starbucks parking lot, wipe tears from my eyes, and enter the store. Caffeine is about the only thing that will get me home.\n\nThe place is far from packed, but there's definitely a line. The older woman in front of me looks back at me and smiles.\n\n\"Oh, how are you?\" she coos at me.\n\nI smile impulsively, \"Okay, you?\"\n\n\"Oh, wonderful,\" she smiles wider, \"It's so nice to...\"\n\nThe barista interrupts her while calling her forward for her order. I look at the mugs for sale and wonder on the impulses that drive someone to buy a mug off a wall while waiting in line. Are they buying a gift - pushed by a nostalgic memory? Did they suddenly remember they needed a mug? Did they eye the mug waiting for pay day so they could finally get their hands on that commemorative skyline?\n\nThe woman at the counter finishes her order with a giggle, and I am called for my turn. I smile at the barista.\n\n\"Caffe Vanilla Light Frappucino with non fat milk,\" I say, interrupting her customary greeting.\n\nThe barista smiles at me none the less and nods, \"That's all taken care of.\"\n\nI raise an eyebrow as she brushes off my attempts to pay. She points to the woman ahead of me and smiles again, \"She took care of your bill.\"\n\nI can only stammer, \"O-oh\" as I get out of the way of the customer behind me and walk toward the pick up counter.\n\n\"Thanks,\" I say, \"This actually means a lot.\"\n\nThe older woman smiles again, \"Oh, anytime.\"\n\nShe walks away with her beverage and says as she walks out the door, \"You've helped me so much over the last few months, Karen.\"\n\n\"Double Chocolatey Chip Creme Frappuccino with Soy,\" the barista calls from behind me, as I stand stunned staring at the door.\n\nShe repeats herself, and only then do I realize that the woman in front of me in line thought I was my mother. She ordered her favorite drink for me, without having any idea that I had buried her only a couple days before. All the strength in my body leaves and the tears begin to flow. The barista looks at me with a terrified glance as I take the drink from her hands and leave sobbing.\n\nEdit: Formatting", "I spent so long pacing outside the coffee shop that I was sure to see everyone staring when I finally walked in, cringing at the sound of the tinkling little bell above the door. My eyes scan the familiar little shop nervously, and I realize that I'm holding my breath as I hear the door quietly thud shut behind me. I breathe out. *No one cares*, I remind myself, *calm down*. \n\nThis place used to be a little independent shop, back in high school. I can still picture the old decor. I glance toward the back corner, the tables are positioned differently now, and there's a coffee table and some comfy looking chairs where our booth used to be. I sigh, and take a few steps toward the counter, eyeing the menu. \n\nMinutes go by as I stare up at the menu, but the shop is busy enough that I can manage to let people go ahead of me in line without the barristas trying to call on me for my order. \n\"Oh no, go ahead\" I say to the third person in a row to ask me if I'm in line, \"I'm still deciding.\" All the drinks seem mildly threatening. I'm torn. I should just order a tea, I think, it's safe. But tea isn't what I want. Why order a tea when I could just make that at home. I should treat myself. It's my birthday, after all. Yet, every time I consider something sweet, or creamy, I can picture the nutrition table in my head, the calories and grams of fat seem to float hauntingly before me. I have them all memorized. I go back to thinking about ordering a tea, and notice an ache in my jaw; it's been clenched the whole time. \nOrdering coffee should not be this hard. \n\nThe stream of people entering and leaving the shop has slowed down, and there's no one to let ahead in line. Nervously, I move forward to give my order. People must have noticed me by now, they must be thinking how strange I am; wondering what's wrong with me. Earl grey tea, I repeat to myself. Or maybe a London fog, but with non fat milk. No, just tea. It's warm in hear. Iced tea. \n\n\"What'll you have?\" The boy behind the counter asks brightly. I look at him, and my mind goes blank. My voice catches in my throat. \n\n\"Uhh.\"\n\nOf all the people that Starbucks employs, there he is. Jess' little brother. Jesus, the last time I saw him he was what, eight? So he's eighteen, I guess. He hardly looks the same; he's all grown up. But he has her smile, and it punches me in the gut. He clearly doesn't recognize me. Why should he? I should say something, but I can't even get my order out. Twelve years is too late for condolences, anyway. He doesn't even know me. I'm taking too long, shit. I start to panic and look up at the menu again. \n\n\"Vanillafrapp...\" I mutter, barely audible. Shit. \n\n\"Sure thing!\" Replies Jess' kid brother, flashing her smile. I'm practically shaking, and sweating, and some voice in my head is going crazy over just how fucking bad for me and fattening and full of calories and Jess' little brother is asking for my name, asking if I want whipped cream, oh my god *whipped cream?* \n\nFuck. \n\n\"Uh, no. No whip. And make it non-fat.\" I stutter, trying to fix this as best I can. I'm talking way too fast, but he just nods and makes a few checkmarks on a paper cup. \n\n\"Name?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" *give a fake name, give a fake name,* \"S-sarah.\" Fuck. Again. \n\n\"Oh, SARAH! I thought you looked familiar. You were Jess' friend, way back, right?\"\n\nI laugh nervously. \"Yeah.\" \n\n\"Good to see you! Wow it's been ages.\" He's still smiling her goddamn smile. I know it's been twelve years, but how he can smile like that while talking about his dead sister is beyond me. \n\n\"Yeah.\" I say again. This is agony. \n\nHe slides my cup down the counter to the girl making drinks, and I breathe in relief as I move down the counter and he moves on to the next customer. I try taking deep breaths. I fixed the fat issue, and I don't even have to drink the whole thing. And Jess' brother is done talking to me, and I'm done having to see her smile. I'll just wait here, another two minutes, then I can take my drink and go. Happy birthday to me, how long until I can leave this goddamn town again?\n\nThe girl making drinks announces she's going on break. There's some commotion, employees behind the counter shuffle around. I hear Jess' brother apologize to a customer, \"She'll be right with you\", and then a \"Jesus, Hannah! Fine.\" Muffled, through the door to the back room. A second later, there he is. Making my drink. I blink. \n\nWe make small talk, but my brain is on autopilot until I can get out of here. \n\n\"So what brings you back to town?\" \n\n\"Family stuff.\"\n\n\"When was the last time you came to visit?\" \n\n\"This is the first.\"\n\n\"Wow.\" \n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"Well I guess you're sorry to see this place go corporate, huh.\" I shrug. \"You and Jess used to come here a lot right?\" *Shut up*, I shrug again. \n\nHe hands me a drink and I take a sip without even looking. This is chocolate. This is... full fat milk? Soy? I look at him, smiling her goddamn smile and my eyes well up. \n\n\"Everything alright?\" He asks.\n\n\"I-it's not what I ordered.\" My voice is shaky. He looks at it, at the instructions on the cup, at me. \n\n\"Shit, I'm sorry. Guess I was just distracted.\" \n\n\"It's fine,\" I say. It is *not* fine. Soy milk has fat, the chocolate syrup has too many calories, I was barely okay with light vanilla and I cannot drink this. And it's what she would fucking drink too, back when she tried veganism for a stint. She didn't really get it, that the chocolate was probably not vegan. I have vivid memories of trying to explain it to her, of sitting in the fucking booth in the back and laughing about it all together. It wasn't a Starbucks then, but they had frappuccinos. And back then I could drink them, too. What the hell is wrong with me? Why the hell did I come here? My eyes are watering and I am trying so hard to keep it in. \n\n\"Sorry, sorry, here let me make you a new one.\" \n\n\"No, no it's fine.\" This is too fucking much. I should just go. \n\n\"You can keep them both, since I fucked it up...\" he's so oblivious. I can't drink this. I can't stay here. \n\n\"No, keep it. Sorry, uh. Bye.\" \n\n\"But you paid-\" I turn and walk out as quickly as I can. Tears streaming down my face. Now people are looking. Now I'm that crazy girl crying over a mixed up Starbucks order. Fuck. \n\n\n*edit - apologies about formatting. Reddit formatting gets me every time. ", "I looked around the room with all of the cold sad expressions of the my people. My cup had steam bellowing out of it's top much like the smoke stacks behind me. If i were to be given one thing before the ovens it was a good coffee. Yet, even as I thought the camp would give me one last reprieve, it took away my last and only hope.", "Alright, I got it...Just don't hurt the children!\n\n(unintelligible mumbling from phone)\n\nYes, yes, we will get you everything you want\n\n(unintelligible mumbling from phone)\n\nI will take care of it personally, it's just down the street.\n\n**20 Minutes Later**\n\nFemale Reporter: \"we're trying to sort out what led to the violent breakdown of negotiations that resulted in the brutal slaughter of 5 young children within the daycare behind me\"\n\nMale Reporter: \" we just got word that the total deaths are actually closer to 9, Just unbelievable Katherine, such tragedy. I hope the facts are released so these poor parents can get some kind of closure on what happened just moments ago. \n\nKatherine: \" Yes John, the police have closed off the entire street of this quiet suburban area with no word from anyone as to what caused such a heinous act.\"", "As I take my first sip, I immediately notice something is wrong. My throat tightens and I blink back tears. \"This can't be happening\", I think as the warm chocolatey liquid spreads throughout my mouth. I was very clear when I ordered: Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. I begin hyperventilating, my vision goes black. *I'm allergic to soy.* ", "The piano movers were having a rough go of it. 1500 pounds of piano needed to be moved to the second story building. Unfortunately this house was on the side of one of the steepest hills in a city filled with steep hills. \nJack stopped and watched them for a minute. \"That's can't be safe.\" he thought to himself. \"I guess they know what they are doing.\"\n\nJack stepped inside the coffee shop and was greeted by name. He loved his daily coffee store trips. Jack lived alone and was very lonely . Some days his only interaction with the outside world was the people at the coffee shop. He could have saved money by making coffee at home but the reason he went for coffee each day wasn't money. It was his legacy. He didn't have many friends and no family and he was afraid of dying alone in his apartment and no one knowing about it. When the rent didn't get paid maybe the landlord would come by to inquire and discover his body. Maybe his downstairs neighbor would smell his rotting flesh and call for someone. But it could be days or weeks before he was discovered and the thought of decomposing in his own apartment terrified him. \n\n\"Morning Jack.\"\n\nApril was working that day. Jack liked April. She was a beautiful woman a with a beautiful face with long sandy blonde hair. A little on the chubby side for modern standards but to jack she looked like a 1920's movie star. Her smile was one in a million and when she flashed it your way your day would get instantly better.\n\n\"Morning April.\"\n\n\"The usual?\"\n\n\"You know it beautiful!\"\n\nApril made his coffee and called his name. Jack paid and left the store. When he reached the curb he took his first sip and stopped dead in his tracks. \n\n\"This isn't my coffee!\" \n\nHe turned around to return to the store but before he could take a step he heard a thunderous noise from up the hill.\n\n\"LOOK OUT!!!!\" someone called. It took Jack a few moments to register what was going on. The piano had come loose from the block and tackle and was barreling down hill right for him. Everything moved in slow motion. He saw the piano coming but his feet would not move. He tried to force his brain to move his feet but still they stayed where they were. Seconds seemed to take hours. He felt something at his back and before he knew it he was looking at the sidewalk face down. He heard a scream. Scream is not the right word. More an emptying of air in the lungs. Like when you let go of a balloon and it flutters around the room making that phrup phrup phrup sound. Jack lost conscientiousness. \n\nHe awoke later at the hospital. He had been very lucky. Someone had thrown him out of the way and all he suffered was a bump on the head. He came to find out it was April who had saved him. She had come back out of the coffee shop to tell him about his messed up coffee order and saw the piano coming downhill right at him. She pushed him out of the way and had gotten clipped by the piano herself. She suffered a broken pelvis, a collapsed lung and numerous contusions but she was expected to recover. She would have a long road to recovery ahead. She would be in the hospital for several weeks followed by months and months of physical therapy. Jack wanted to visit her but was told she was undergoing tests and it would be better if he came back tomorrow. \n\nJack was released from the hospital. He went home and went to bed.\n\nJack died in his sleep that night. No one discovered his body for 6 months. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "I read about it in books and I thought I knew what it would feel like. A simple mistake at the hands of a careless person, working too fast to get to their own goal, Not caring who might get hurt along the way. Each time a character I loved experienced it I went through it with them. I was naive, though. I had no idea it could feel like this. I try to inhale a strangled breath and bring my hand to my chest when it hurts too much. \n\n*How could this happen? I'm not ready for this.*\n\nI know I can't handle it. I walk away from the counter towards the nearest couch and shakily fall into it. It seems to suck me down, shrinking my bodh while growing larger and larger. Just to show me how little and insignificant of a person I am. The dim lights I once found so calming now seem to be taking the light directly out of my soul. I let out an exaggerated cough in an attempt to cover my sobs. I try to think of things that would normally make happy, but they don't exist any more. Only emptiness remains. \n\n*What's next? What sort of life is left for me?*\n\nThe music that used to play softly over the speakers seems to be getting louder, encouraging my heart to be faster. Each heart beat seems to echo through my empty chest, reverberating off the thin shell of my body and reminding it hurts to live. Tears race down my check leaving a trail agonizing fire that can't be seen. I look around at the people selfishly enjoying themselves, paying no attention to poor lack of soul that I am.\n\n*None. The answer is none. There is no life left.*\n\nA loud roar and grinding noise attacks me from the other side of the room. It laughs at me menacingly. The noise grows louder, cutting into the little sanity I have left. The relentless roaring and whirring continue on, only gaining fuel from my agony. I'm no longer in control of my body and I crumble inward. I rock back and forth, holding myself.\n\nQuietly I chant to msyelf, \"Cème Frappuccino with soy. Cème Frappuccino with so.Cème Frappuccino with soy.\"\n\nFinally the people around me take notice and I turn to each of them repeating my chant, being sure to stare into each set of eyes to they understand. My chanting grows louder, but they do nothing. Can't they see I'm dying?\n\nFinally a wail erupts from my through. The roaring across the room stops. \n\nI plead one more time and yell out, \"Cème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino. I don't want a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non fat milk!\"\n\n\nThe person closest to me blinks twice with raised eyebrows. Cautiously he hold a cup out to me.\n\n\"Sorry, man. I think I grabbed your drink.\"\n\n\n", "\"No, no. It's fine. It'll have to be. Have a nice day.\"\n\nSorry, pops. Today you get the wrong drink. But I woke up late and between the old ball and chain making my inadequacy as a man known to the neighborhood and dropping little Jessica off at practice, I just don't have time to fuck around in this Starbucks. \n\nWho drinks Starbucks, anyway? I take a sip of mine as I merge into traffic.\n\n\"Good god that tastes like shit.\"\n\nThe golf course is half empty because of the chill and light rain. I pull in too fast, not even noticing that dad's Jeep isn't here.\n\nIt isn't until I walk into the pro shop and pay for two rounds that I realize. Annoyed, I pull up my parents number on my phone and hit send, a joke about getting his own coffee on my tongue.\n\n\"Chris, you might want to sit down,\" comes across the line before I even know the call was answered.\n\nI look down at the last thing I ever did for my father, a double chocolately someshit or other that he didn't even ask for.\n\nSorry, pops.", "AN. Heads up, kinda (very) gross.\n\nPaperwork, noise, scratching pencils, the clink of handcuffs. Signatures, work done. Chain coffee across the road. Break\nBarista, order, buzzing noise. \nWords prepared, practiced.\n\"Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk.\" \nRadio\nI Respond. \nBarista's questioning noise.\nI'm needed. Two blocks down. Team on the scene.\nI Respond.\nBarista looking at me. Decide generosity.\n\n\"Actually, make that six. To go.\"\nThey rush.\nListen to the radio.\nMurder. Close. Medics there soon.\nI check my uniform.\nGrab the cups,\nJog.\n\nLast man there.\nDuck the tape.\n\nCorpse.\nSlumped in the underpass. Unmistakable. \nLoose shirt, open.\nBruising of the arm where he was pinned.\nKnife wounds to the gut, intestines spilling out over his jeans in a bizarre parody of a beer belly.\nSquishy parts fallen to the ground.\nBlood slightly tacky on my shoes as I look closer at them.\nLuck.\nKnife. \nI squint.\nBloody set of prints on handle.\n\nGlance at the man on my right.\n\nOfficer Peterson. Nervous, first corpse. \nCamera, ready to photograph fingerprints.\nHands shaking, no pictures yet.\n\nSomething familiar to calm him down.\nCoffee addict.\nTake the camera.\n\nHand him cardboard container.\nHe takes off the plastic lid.\nDown in one.\n\nSwallows.\nHalf formed expression.\n\nLooks at me.\n\nBeat.\n\nI hand him the camera. He turns to the corpse.\n\nHis face is paler. A deep shuddering breath. \nA brown and glittering arc spews forth, splattering into the pavement where it mixes with the blood on the ground, \nliquids spilling together like ink and water, \nblood and Frappuccino.\n\nhe collapses.\nI look at his lips, shocked.\n\nWhispering gasp.\n\"EpiPen.\"\n\nI scrabble for his pockets.\nParamedics rushing.\nI remember. \n\nSoy allergy.\n\nThey warn me off, carrying him outside the blue tape, brown and red liquid staining neon trousers.\n\nI pick up his cup. \nThe smell.\nDouble Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with Soy.\nOn the ground.\nOn the corpse.\nCoating the knife. \nThe complete handprint.\n\n\nForensics anyway.\nFailure.\nContaminated sample.\nNo leads.\nCold.", "I sure hope the nice sounding barista gets my fairly complicated order right! It'd be a shame if it got messed up because I wouldn't be able to notice it until too late because I'm blind.\n\nOh right, I'm blind. It's a really terrible and gut-wrenching story as to how I got blind. I was a young chap, 7 years of age, and I was trying to save a mewling kitten from a ferocious pack of street ferrets. What happened next was something that was really miserable. I was punting feral ferrets left and right, up and down. Their furry, yet vicious, little faces were set on getting that kitten. Suddenly, mid-kick, I slipped and fell onto my back. As the ferrets swarmed me, I chuckled to myself at how much I felt like I was in an old classic novel I had read once. I struggled valiantly, but those cheeky bastards took my eyes and the kitten. Tragic.\n\nWell I hear the barista call out my name, and I approach what I hope is the counter. I grab my ice cold refreshing beverage/coffee slushy. With great relish I fumble with the straw wrapper for a good minute. Finally; it is time. It is MY time. \n\n*slurp*\n\nUh-oh, this isn't what I ordered. I gasp. I shudder. I raise my hands to the heavens. Why God, why? \nMy severe allergies to both chocolate and soy are enough to do me in. As I fall to the floor, I whisper to the world, \"Fuck.\"\n\n*Taken from the obituary page the next day*\n\nMr. Jim Dorsey, who was tragically blinded in an altercation with several small woodland creatures, was pronounced dead this past Wednesday afternoon. In a miserable trick of fate, Jim, who was blind, mistakenly took the beverage of another gentleman who was also named Jim. He did not notice the cool mocha color that would have surely given away the difference between the vanilla drink he ordered and the cup of veritable poison which he did indeed slurp. The still living Jim, however, had ordered what turned out to be a lethal combination for poor Mr. Dorsey. Poor gent.", "I tested the Dimensional Shift prototype today. I slipped into another dimension and saw the horrible truth. There was a vast network of computers on the other side that is responsible for every major catastrophe in our world. They plant thoughts in the minds of the Hitlers and Pol Pots of the world. They influence terrorists and rapists. Their programs are constantly working against humanity and our prosperity. \n\nFor the test run of the prototype today, I went alone and set a timer, I had 30 minutes on the other side. I learned all that I could. I didn’t have enough time to actually do anything though, I couldn’t destroy the computers or reprogram them. I’ll have to do that when I crossover again--if I crossover again. \n\nWhen I got back, I underwent a full body scan. The scan detected massive amounts of radiation. I immediately contacted a former colleague and started asking pointed questions. If someone were irradiated with gamma radiation at 50 Gray, how long would they have to live? Is there anything he could do to survive? He told me less than an hour. Then he told me that a combination of certain compounds could be an antidote and one that would work immediately. As he started to list them, I knew I could never assemble them in time. So I asked him, are any of these compounds easily accessible in window cleaners, motor oil, household products, or anything like that? “Please, Steve, this isn’t a hypothetical question, I need this and I am already deteriorating quickly.” My whole body is aching. My nose has been bleeding constantly for the last few minutes now. Steve was startled, but after a short pause said, “Yes, that unique combination of compounds can be found in a Vanilla Frappuccino from any coffee place. There’s a Starbucks at the corner of Southland and Nicholasville Road. Go now! Just order a Caffe Vanilla Light Frappuccino! Go!” \n\nThere IS an antidote. I cling on to this knowledge as my eyes start to close against my will. I am fading fast. I go, running as fast as my protesting muscles will take me. I have to make it to the Starbucks at the corner NOW. As I run down the sidewalk, a pedestrian emerges from one of the shops, stepping into my path, completely oblivious. I sidestep her and brush against a parking meter with my forearm. I leave behind a chunk of skin and flesh. My body is losing cohesion. But, I can see the Starbucks. I run, ignoring each painful footfall and excruciating pivot of my joints the best that I can. \n\nMust stay awake for another minute. I am living second to second now. My body just wants to shut down, but I have made it into the Starbucks and there is no line. I focus on the memory, Steve said, ‘Caffe Vanilla Light Frappuccino’ so I do my best to order that through a mouth that is rapidly becoming mush. “Caffe Vanilla Light Frappuccino?” Says the barista with a smile on his face. I nod emphatically, nearly losing stability and smashing my head against the counter. The barista, seemingly unaware of my urgency and condition politely asks, “can I please have your name, sir?” I don’t have the endurance for this, I try to just give him a deathglare, so he drops it, but he won’t, so I struggle to form a word in my mouth, “Hurry.” Though, it came out like a muffled grumble, it seems to have appeased the Barista. He writes my name on the cup and gets to work on it. \n\nI think I will survive, I know I’ve lost a fair amount of blood and have a large wound on my arm, but it is nothing that I can’t recover from. As I think this thought, part of my eyebrow drips down onto my cheek. Okay, well Steve has hopefully called an ambulance to my location, so once I get the antidote, they can take care of all the other problems that have beset me due to the destructive radiation. The barista returns with my drink. I drop a five dollar bill on the counter and immediately chug the drink, barely feeling the heat in my throat. Oh, sweet providence! I’ll live! I can fix all the evils in the world! My discovery won’t die with me! Now, I can finally relax knowing that everything will be okay. I collapse to the ground. My last thought before letting unconsciousness take me is, “why is my skin still dripping down my face?” \n\nThe EMTs arrive looking for a black male, 6 feet tall, who will most likely be bleeding and will definitely be in rough shape, according to dispatch. Ron scans the establishment. No sign of him. The place is empty except for one employee and a huge nasty spill in front of the counter, next to a cup that says, “Slurry”. \n\n“Can I help you?” asks the cheery barista. \n\n“No thanks, we got a prank call, I guess. Though you might want to clean up that mess in front of the counter, someone might slip and hurt themselves and we’ll actually come here with good reason.” \n\nLance, doesn’t know what spill the EMT is talking about, but smiles and says, “will do, thanks.” As they leave, he comes around the counter and sees the spill. “When did this happen?” He sees the name on the cup. ‘Slurry’, ah yes, I couldn’t make out his actual name, but I am encouraged to take liberties with people’s names and he was slurring his words pretty badly. Lance grins at his cleverness. Then he crinkles his brow into a frown. To think, I gave him a Double Chocolatey Chip Creme Frappuccino, upgrading his drink just because he didn’t look so hot. And he leaves me with this mess. Well, Lance thinks to himself righteously, no good deed goes unpunished. \n\nIn a parallel dimension, a computer screen lights up with a final line of text:\n[End program: bad barista]", "Daily Frappucino\n\n*Soon*\n\n\"One Grande Latte for Michael ... One grande Latte for Michael\".\n\n\"Ah Thanks\"\n\n*One is gone , only five people left. Then it will be my turn and i will finally get my Caffe Vanilla Light Frappucino. *\n\n*Finally. Oh i can't wait to get my hands on this delicious holy nectar of a drink. Just thinking about the sweet fragrance of vanilla and the soft texture of the milk makes my heart beat faster. But of course no fat milk. Gotta watch out for my weight*\n\nAt the moment I am standing in line at Starbucks,waiting for my turn.\n\nJust like normal . Just part of my daily routine.\n\nYou might be thinking that I am way to overeacting about this Frapucino. \n\nWell let me tell you. You are completely wrong. \n\nThis is not just a normal Frapucciono. \nNo it's gone way beyond that. This my lifleine. My only joy of life . My only pleaseant moment of the day. \n\nYou might even reason that this frappucino is the only reason why I am alive today.\n\nBut believe it or not ,things werent always like that. Just one year ago this was just a normal frappucion for me.\n\nTo understand that we gotta backup a little in my life.\n\nOne year ago I was in depression. My girlfriend left , no job , no future prospect, my dog died, I was on the verge of being homeless and my parents disowned me , because i could not live up to their stupid expectations.\n\nI needed money fast to pay the bills and thinking I might get better if I listen to people who have it worse in life , i joined a suicide hotline.\n\nWell, I couldn't have been more wrong.\n\n The only thing more depressing than thinking about your miserable excuse of your life , is listening to other people trying to convince you that their life is worse .\n\nBut because of the economy and my piling bills I couldn't quit this job.\n\nAs time went by I grew only more depressed , and my mind couldn't go on like that. I thought about suicide often but I was just too afraid. \n\nSo I started looking for an excuse to stay alive. Only a tiny thing what brought me joy was enough. Unfortunately there wasn't any ,except that daily frappucino at Starbucks.\n\n And now one year later , this specific frappucino ist the most important and the most happiest part of my life.\n\nPathetic, but it was true that that frappucion kept me alive as ridiculous as it might sound.\n\n\n\"Henry your order is ready\"\n\nI rejoiced.\n\n*Finally. Oh,thank god finally. I can drink that nectar of life.*\n\nI hastily pay, take the drink from the barrister and greedily sip on my frappucino.\n\n*W-Wait*\n\n*Th-That cant be right .Thats not my frappucino. *\n\nAt that moment the giant wave of depression ,which kept piling up over the year, hit me like a firetruck.\n\n \nI instantly turn as pale as a corpse. Tears keep flowiing out of my eyes like a waterfall. \n\nI cant stop.\n\nEverybody starts looking at me but I dont care, because right now my mind is in deep turmoil.\n\nEvery tragic experience , every sad moment keeps replaying in my mind.\n\n The death of my dog. The loss of my girlfirend . The abondonment of my parents.\n\nOver and over.\n\nMy mind screams. My heart is in pain.\n\nAs i keep reliving these moments I keep asking myself : Why ist this happening to me. What did i do to deserve it.\n\nUntil I ask myself the ultimate question: Why am I still alive?\n\nMy mind counldnt take it anmore. My brain shuts down.\n\n...\n\n\"Oh my god he fell down \"\n\n\"Someone call the ambulance\"\n\n\"Hey ,let me through I am a doctor.\"\n\n\"This is bad . His eyes aren't reacting\"\n\n\"Hey wake up , wake up. Shit he is loosing pulse- Gotta perform CPR\"\n\n\"Hmpf Hmpf Hmpf , dont die one me. Hmpf Hmpf.\"\n...\n\n\n\"I am sorry\".\n\n\"He is dead\"\n\"Time of dead 9 pm.\"", "I was in a rush - that's unlike me, but today was an important day and I was in a hurry. I normally check for things like this. My friends all tell me I'm vigilant, that I'm on top of my game.\n\nI was distracted. It's an important day, remember? I had things on my mind. And gum in my mouth. Gum that, briefly, conflicted with this unfamiliar flavor. Gum that, for an eternity, masked what I was drinking, that allowed me to guzzle nearly half my drink before being suddenly taken aback.\n\nThat wasn't vanilla and it certainly wasn't soy.\n\nI felt my throat begin to swell. Anaphylactic shock isn't pleasant. My eyes closed and I toppled.\n\nBreathing became difficult. My head was swimming, I could feel the pressure of my blood ebb. I suspect I would've seen black dots, if I was able to see at all.\n\nChocolate - I'd had a small piece as a child, the reaction wasn't this bad though. Carried an epi-pen for years but had grown lax over the years. I'm an adult, dammit, never had any problems censoring my food for this poison. I briefly feel a flash of irony - I'd tipped the barista double, she's new.\n\nI felt a rumbling coming from my gut. Asphyxia by chocolate was the least of my worries. The lactose of the milk and my gastrointestinal system were fighting a war for the ages and I could feel my organs lose the fight.\n\nI began to retch. My throat swollen, became distended with the foul, putrid, frothy mess. Little oxygen flow became none. My lungs burned, I itched all over. \n\nIt didn't matter though. I only felt it a little while longer. In the distance, sirens.\n\nI was in a rush- that was unlike me. \n\nI was distracted -it was Jasmine's birthday.\n\nHow often do you get to tell your daughter she'll be a big sister?", "Just once. Just once I wish I was brave enough to stand up to her. \n\n\nEveryday I think \"This is it. This will be the time. This will be the moment I change\". We walk into the store and I am filled with a passion, filled with an emotive reaction of self determination to finally, after all these years, stand up for my wishes. With the wind of a thousand gusts behind me I prodly state \"I would like, a Caffé Vanilla Light Frappucinno with with no fat milk!\" With such delight I heard the words \"Certainly sir, coming right up\".\n\n\nAnd as soon as it came, the wind came crushing down in a suffocating blast. \"Dont be stupid\" she sneered. \"You dont know what you want\".\n\n\nAnd I stood and watched, a husk of a man. An empty shell of individuality, seeing yet another decision taken from my grasp as I am handed the same drink she always orders for me. As if I have no self control over the smallest of decisions. If only I could take a breathe. Just once.", "\"You are probably wondering who I am. 14 years ago you messed up my coffee order. That is why you are taped up, sitting in you basement, watching me slowly kill all three of your children. But first I am going to make your whole family watch me vivisect your shih tzu. See how she is looking at you between screams of pain? Wanting you to stop it, to do something? It is painful, but not as bad as when you see your baby being cut up. All because of that one morning. See that cup over there? That barista got it right. Her family will live. Yours though,....\"", "She smiled at me, cheerfully staring into my Soul. I couldn't help but break down and smile back. We had just fought and usually after a heated argument we get something to get our minds off what just happened. Food, drinks, shopping. Anything to escape the reality of what we are so desperately trying to avoid. \"Wait in the car babe.\" I said as I walked down the street. Walked inside. Ordered her favorite \"Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino\" with, of course no fat milk. I swear I never knew why she was so obsessed with her figure. She was already perfect. I sit down near a wall. The stool was firm. Must have been recently replaced. This location is the most visited. As I wait I noticed I forgot my phone. \"Oh well\" I thought. I am not too far. The barista calls my name. I pick up her drink. I noticed it was a \"Double Chocolaty Chip Cream Frappuccino with Soy Milk\". I doubt she'd care. She loves everything on that damn menu. I walk back down the parking meter laden road towards my car. She's standing outside the car, arms folded, with my phone in her right hand. \"Crap\" I thought. She might have read the messages I sent to my coworker. Man I hate her jealousy. I see her like a sister. I handed her the drink. \"Here you go babe the guy mixed up the order, but I am sure you're still gonna drink it\" As the words slipped out of my mouth I could feel the cup hit my chest. Frozen coffee and whipped cream hit my face. Its probably in my hair now. Great. There were people around watching this unfold. Probably thinking I cheated on her. Fuck em. She was sobbing. \"Your test results are back\". In that instant, I froze. Just like the ice that was blended into the Chocolaty Chip drink that just hit my face. \n\n\n\"You have cancer, why didn't you tell me\"", "Today has not gone well. I shouldn't be upset. Normal people don't get upset over things like this. I shouldn't feel this way but I do. \n\nI see a fat balding man wave cheerily at me. He walks over.\n\n\"Not now Tony.\" I snarl at him. He looks as though he watched me eat his kitten in front of him.\n\n\"Is everything all right?\" He asks.\n\n*No but I can't explain what's wrong* \n\"Everything's fine.\" I lie easily. \"I'm just tired is all.\"\n\nI'm tired of everything. Tired of these little things. Tired of knowing no one will understand.\n\nI watched Tony leave. Unconcerned. Unburdened. \n\nHe only wanted to talk. I shouldn't have pushed him away. I probably needed him. He'd have asked questions though. Questions I didn't have the energy for.\n\nThis morning was fine. This afternoon was fine too. Why now? \n\nI don't know. It's not as if I dislike the taste of chocolate. It shouldn't hurt as much as it does. \n\nShe still got my order wrong. That was one more person that did not care about my existence. One minor wound among many. It's not like I'd be any better at her job. \n\nIt still hurts. I'm tired of acting normal. I'm tired of life treading on me. All I wanted was the vanilla light Frappuccino. All I wanted was for her to care about me just enough to get my order right.", "She was a Batista, a foul mouthed beast made of serpent and snake. And today this creature was tending the best saloon in town. But I was a fair man of like mind. So I gave her a choice and the choice was hers.\n\nHand me the Caffè Vanilla Light Frappucino with no fat milk, or else.\n\nOr else what?\n\nOr else you can count on the reckoning of this entire establishment. \n\nThem are mighty words for a man looking for coffee.\n\nWell, you just ain't understandin' miss, that ain't no ordinary coffee. That's my coffee.\n\nWell, what if I say that ain't your coffee? This is your coffee.\n\nWhat in God's name is this, Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frapuccino with soy. \n\nThen came the reckoning.\n\nI'm remiss to say that Batista had one choice and the choice was hers. There was once a saloon, named Starbucks, but now there is a morgue.\n\n-CM-", "The tears flowed from my eyes, despite my best attempts to keep they at bay. I didn't want people to see me like that. They didn't need to be sad, like I was. It wasn't fair to them. It was embarrassing enough losing my job today, I don't need this. It's not my fault though, right? It probably is... I suppose I can't blame them for hating me though. After all, I hate me. What ever. It's not worth it. I left the Starbucks and drove towards home, crying uncontrollably the entire time. It wasn't my fault. I can't make them stop though. The tears won't stop coming. Why does it matter so much? No one cares enough to even remember what I ordered. Maybe...yeah, I thought I knew how to make the tears stop. I stopped the car in the middle of the street and waded out into traffic, hoping, just hoping I'd get hit. And then, it was gone. I was gone. And now I'm here. Now, I'm alone. But you can help, can't you doc?\n\n___________\n\nA man stared disconnectedly through the glass at his once healthy son. A woman in a lab coat approached him, shuffling papers in her hands and muttering to herself. \n\n\"So, how much did you say that I could...uhhh...that...I could have for uhhh...letting you do...whatever it is you do to him?\" The man said to her as he scratched the sores on his face. \n\n\"Sir, we agreed on $1,000 for letting us probe his brain. You're quite aware that this will kill him, correct?\" She responded.\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, sure, that's alright. Just uhhhh...give me the money, right?\" He said, nervously ticking. \n\n\"Right away sir. Just sign here, saying you're his legal guardian and that you are releasing him to us. We'll get that money straight to you.\" She said, smiling ever so slightly. After the man signed, she turned smartly and walked back to her office, where yet another man was waiting.\n\n\"Did the druggie sign?\" He asked as she walked in.\n\n\"Of course.\" She said, the smile finally escaping. \"That thousand will give him a fix for at least a week.\"\n\n\"What a fool.\" He said.\n\nIn the cell, the man stopped crying, and drank deeply from the Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino he clutched, even though it had long ago been drank empty. It really was a shame that bus hadn't killed him. It would've saved him a lot of pain.", "As I take a sip of what was presumably a venti caffé vanilla light frapp, I grow wide eyed. My throat locks up, tears building up, spewing the drink all over the counter. The barista looks at me with bewilderment and says, \"Sir, are you gucci?\", and I fall backwards onto a table with a couple sitting at it, making the table fall over, catapulting the drinks in the air and landing on an old lady's $800 Shi Tzu. As I gasp for my final breath, I say, \"I should've went to Duncan Donuts this morning\". ", "I didn't know she was allergic to chocolate, it was only our third date. I knew she was blind, though, so she couldn't see the colour of the drink within. \n\nThe memory haunts me. The panic in her unseeing eyes as her throat closed up.", "The gun was pressed firmly against Adrian's temple. The man's hand was shaking, but Thomas knew he meant business.\n\"Please, I'll do anything, just don't harm my son,\" Thomas finally managed to choke out. Surprise could really throw a man off.\n\"You don't want your son to die, do you? Well, if you don't, there's something I need. It should be pretty easy for you too get, too.\" Adrian began to squirm, attempting to break out of the headlock the man had him in. \"Now now, little man. I gotta keep you here until your old man gets me what I want. If he does that you'll be just fine. Anyways, as I was saying. I need one thing: I need one grande Caffé Vanilla Light Frappuccino from Starbucks. Skim milk, gotta stay healthy, ya know?\" The man burst out laughing. \"One more stipulation: I've got a nasty caffeine headache coming on, and I get testy when I've got one. You've got five minutes. Better get going.\" He waved the pistol in the vague direction of the coffee shop.\n\nThomas had never run so quickly in his life. Being the portly man that he was, he was gasping for breath by the time he reached the black-and-green façade of the shop. When he stepped in, his heart sank. The line was eight people long. Thomas was on the verge of a panic attack. The thought of his son's head popping like a gore-filled ballon consumed his every thought. He wasn't gonna make it in time. He looked down at his watch. 5:48. Two minutes had already passed.\n\nThen he had an idea.\n\nHe reached into his wallet, and pulled out 5 twenties.\n\n\"I'll give a twenty to each person who lets me skip them in line.\" The words stuttered and stumbled out of his mouth. The ramblings of a madman, certainly not enough to get anyone's attention.\n\n\"ATTENTION! I WILL GIVE 20 DOLLARS TO ANYONE WHO LETS ME CUT IN LINE!\" This time, the words roared from him, sprinting towards those in line. This got some response.\n\n30 seconds and $100 later, Thomas was waiting third in line. Then second, then first. He only had two minutes left, but he felt like he could do it. \n\n\"One grande Caffé Vanilla Light Frappuccino, with skim, please,\" Thomas said, practically tripping over his words. His heart was racing a mile a minute, and his mouth with it.\n\n\"I'm sorry sir, could you repeat that?\" The barista said.\n\n\"One grande Caffé Vanilla Light Frappuccino, with skim milk, please!\" He banged his hand down on the counter. \"S-sorry. I'm in a bit of a rush\"\n\n\"One grande Caffé Vanilla Light Frappuccino, skim milk, coming right up! Your total is right on the monitor here. Cash, Credit or Debit, sir?\"\n\n\"Credit,\" He said, and handed her his card. Time was running out. He only had a minute and a half left, tops. Thomas was beginning to wonder just how well the man kept time. \n\nThe wait for the coffee was excruciating. Seconds passed like hours. Someone tried to make small talk with him, but Thomas could barely muster up the focus to reply. Couples and friends were chitchatting, unoffensive music played overhead. Minimum wage baristas worked behind the bar like they cared. None of them had any idea. Not a soul, save Thomas, knew that his son's life hung in the balance right now. All over a fucking cup of coffee. \n\nFinally, after what seemed like eons, Thomas heard his name called. He could hardly pick up the coffee without spilling it, his hands were trembling so badly. Thomas was pretty sure he uttered a quick thanks before swooping it up and walking out the door. \n\nThomas had no idea what came over him, but he decided to take a sip of the beverage, just to make sure. He pulled the drink towards his face, took a sip, and screamed.", "PTSD does strange things. Your memory changes, once you have it. Sometimes things from years ago just happened and yesterday is a distant memory. It's ungrounding, you never know what part of your past you're coming from, which means you can be any you you ever where, at any time. \n\nMy wife left me because of this, in part. I wasn't a saint before, but she would'nt've never left me for that, she knew who I was. \n\nAnd I don't think it was my pain that scared her away. \n\nI think it's what she saw when I became who I was, who I had to be, over there. She's seen this part of me that is the most raw, the most terribly, disgustingly, honest part. And she knows that part doesn't love her. It's not capable of that.\n\nAnd it scares her. It only makes me weep. Better then being numb. Numb means there's no hope.\n\nWhen I got back we travelled in rural Guatemala; I could never quite fit back in to normal society. We had the dream together to start a farm. Guatemalan chocolate.\n\nAnd for a few years life was good. \n\nA tip: Don't go to Guatemala in the early 1980s. \n\nMy war had come back to me, but now it felt different. For a few years I had time to put lacquer over the thin shell of patriotism, of doing of duty, of it all being worth something. It broke apart when I saw another one sided battle, this time without a voice in my ear telling me I was righteous. This time I wasn't a child. \n\nAnd I ended up killing men.\n\nThey came for us. It was in self-defense. She still saw me.\n\nSo we went seperate ways. I travelled to India. I sat in Ashrams with men in white, unstained robes. I met a deep part of myself while the vanilla incense washed over me. I believed I, too, could become unstained. That I could wear white again.\n\nEveryone said the abbot was a happy man, and with others he always seemed joyous. With me he was a sad man. Then, I thought he could feel my darkness, that he knew what I had done. Now I know it's more. He saw what I would know.\n\nIt's funny that when you feel most comfortable is when you can experience the most pain. It makes sense. It's why were taught to always be on guard. I found enough peace in India to make me believe I was free, but not enough to fortify that freedom against the outside world.\n\nWhen I heard she had died I thought I could deal with it. It had been three years, but I was still close with her. Close at a distance. That was the only way it worked for either of us, really. I went to her funeral.\n\nTelling peace from numbness is a challenge. \n\nBut when I got there, that changed. Something inside of me, some long retired machinery began to grind again. I was on guard. There were two caskets. Two sets of photos at the priest's feet. My ex-wife. The woman I loved. And a three year old baby girl. Car accident. I hadn't known.\n\nSomething strange began happenning. I felt a tearing in my chest, my stomach, behind the eyes, anywhere I focused. I became giddy. I had to leave. I just drove. I don't know how long. The next thing I remember is the ding of the gas light going on.\n\nI didn't want to stop. But I did. A rest stop with a gas station, a taco bell, and a starbucks. As the tank filled I almost dozed off. After re-fueling I walked over to starbucks. I didn't want to sleep, not yet. \n\nVanilla. India. Take me back! That's all I saw when I ordered my drink, the list of words the Barrista rattled off fell on deaf ears saying yes, yes. I felt tears behind me eyes thinking of the incense, of the white robes. \n\nIt's the little things in life that really matter. That's where huge changes occur, where small things happen. We usually miss it.\n\nI inhale, expecting peace to flood through me. Instead my warm, open, scarred heart opens to me at my darkest. I see me. And I see me as she saw me. My new shell and it's new lacquer break off. All from the smell of chocolate.\n\nI passed out. I have never been so lost. All I have built has been lost. All I have is the blackest part of me. There is no peace. There is no white robe. There is only harsh truth of who I am. But there is a harsher truth. I've learned that there's no difference between peace and numbness. ", "Batista?", "The cold, dark drizzle ran down the icy exterior and onto my palm. I looked up slowly past the counter. She was smiling at one of the other customers. I wanted to say something, but my cottonmouth paralyzed my vocal cords. For a brief second, she looked at me and said, \"Have a nice day!\" I just stared at her with a stupid look of desperation on my face. The chocolate creme blended nicely with the slushy pools of snow on the sidewalk outside. I stepped into my car and sat in the parking lot, watching the sun go down over a city of broken dreams. ", " I stumbled into the local Starbucks, my face dark and full of regret. I ordered the one thing that could make me feel any happiness at all...my Caffe Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. When i had my cup of heaven all of my other problems disappeared. The visions of my girlfriend leaving me, my parents beating each other, my friends abandoning me....all disappearing. I waited patiently for my miniature fountain of youth, imagining how its life will flow throughout my body, warming my soul. I closed my eyes, lost in my imagination. \"Sir?\" said the batista, who was significantly shorter then me. He held my order in his hands. My holy grail, my sweet nectar. I reached out and grasped it firmly in my hand, feeling the warmth through the cup. \"Thank you\" I said softly as I inhaled the scent of vanil-\"HEY!\" the batista spun around, surprised by my outburst. \"Yes sir? Is there a probl-\" \"Hell yeah there's a problem! I've been waiting all damn week for my one cup of Caffe Vanilla light Frappucino with no fat milk, and you give me this chocolate chip shit!\" I was appalled. Several of the pathetic drones called \"customers\" glared over at my situation. Then he spoke in his high, nasally voice. \"I think I got the wrong order? I ordered the Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino with soy, and i got some sort of vanilla crap.\" I turned to him, my eyes glaring through his Harry Potter glasses. \"YOU! You dare insult my Caffe Vanilla Light Frappucino with no fat milk!\" My head flashed back to all of my...evil thoughts. I saw everyone abandoning me. I was alone. I was always alone, until in the darkness i saw a light. That light was my goddamn Caffe Vanilla Light Frappucino with no fat milk, and no nerd who like soy in his Frappuccino was going to take my light. I moved with swift decisveness and pulled my arm back to send my fist hurtling into his fucking annoying glasses and shut up that annoying voice. I pulled my arm half-way back, when suddenly I feel backwards, my eyes looking up and my pride, the little that I had, looking down. My head hit the ground with a *BONK* as all of the drones drinking their Frappucinos and observing their \"show\" gasped. The dreaded cup of Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappucino with soy flew into the air. The cup of hell reached its peak velocity, and began its descent back to hell. The cup fell as if in slow motion, the cover coming off, releasing the demons from inside of it. It tumbled in the air, holding everyone's attention. Then it descended upon my face. Its hot lava flowing into my eyes, blotting out my light. Then the darkness enveloped all, leaving me empty.", "My mind went blank. The room shifts and swirls as a dog from across the cafe stares at me with it's strange curiosity and it's tilted head. I've seen you before, I thought. Is it smiling at me? My ears ring and I can't really tell if shaking out the sounds is working. Who dimmed the lights? The people are all talking like nothing is wrong here. Something is wrong. I see their mouths moving and their words sinking like stones. The barista in front of me shines bright as day. I shielded my face and peek through my skinny arms. Can she see me? I wave my hand in front of her. Her mouth moves as her inert words fall from her lips onto the floor in a jumbled pile. Nothing. All the people in the cafe are all laughing at me, the god damn god is *laughing* at me. I glance at the side of the drink and read, \"*Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino with soy*.\" My ears implode. My mind cracked in two. Such a loud bang! In an instant I was weightless. I moved without restraint. Everything in the world was muffled except for the classical notes that bled through the cafe like red dye. The barista felt just as weightless. Her body moved faster than the sound of her back snapping. The screams faded out just like everything else did around here. Lights out, party is over. It is very quiet now after what seemed to be seconds. I turn around to make my way outside and step on something. I lift my foot from a name tag reading, \"Debby.\" I attempt to scratch off a blemish that I soon realized was blood. I step outside and sit on the curb of the ruined street. It's a ghost town. The dog across the street is looking at me as I sip from my cup. On the side it reads, \"Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk.\"", "\"God, give me a sign. Please. Anything. Just something that'll go my way this time. Show that you give a damn about me,\" he whispered and crossed himself. \n\nAs he lumbered to his feet, he felt the pangs of a morning borne without a morsel to eat. He remembered the Starbucks a few blocks south of the church. Money was tight and his everyday coffee habit had been the first thing to go. He hadn't been there in some time. He weighed his options as he fingered the few single dollar bills in his pocket. With a shake of his head, he started to make his way to the shop. He deserved a little something good. He had always been a creature of routine, always ordering the same thing. He could have a little taste of that again.\n\nThe rain from the night before had been heavy. But the walk was brisk and the air didn't seem to have quite the same sting in it. Maybe spring would come early. The thought cheered him. \n\nA van peeled around the corner and sped towards him. He eyed the large pools of water on the road. It was too late to move away from the street. He shut his eyes and braced himself for the inevitable splash. Screeeeeeeech. He opened his eyes and found that the van had coasted into a parked car. The corners of his mouth lifted. Maybe he'd been heard.\n\nWhen he walked through the doors of the coffee shop, the barista hailed him. \"Good to see you, sir. It's been a while!\"\n\nHe was slightly taken aback. He had an excellent memory and even he could only vaguely recall the man. The barista had to have an even sharper memory. He hadn't been here in over six months. \"Likewise, man. How's it going?\"\n\n\"Can't complain, can't complain. I'm pretty sure I remember your usual. Same thing every time with you.\"\n\nThe man actually remembered his order. Out of the hundreds of customers that had to have walked through those doors, he'd been remembered. A touch of a smile broke across his face. The sign he'd been praying for.\n\n\"I can't believe you remembered. Yeah, please. Thanks.\" He slid all the money he'd had in his pocket over the counter. \"Keep the change.\"\n\nAfter a few minutes, the barista slid a cup over the bar. \"I've got a Grande Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino with soy for Mick. Thanks a lot and come again!\"\n\nJim wrapped his fingers around the cup with his right hand and reached for the barista with his left.", "She had gambled her life savings on this. And there was no way she could afford to go without drinking this. \n\nTen days ago Misa Amane was confident that she would win this bet and then be able to afford an education for her daughter, maybe find a home outside this neighbourhood.\n\nBut her landlord who owned the local franchise for starbucks was watching every movement that took place in his shop via cctv. and like all psychopaths, he was extremely sensitive if something were to go wrong. if Misa didnt drink the chocolate beverage that lay in front of her, she would surely suffer his wrath, maybe even be evicted.\n\nand if she did, then she wouldnt be able to lose those extra pounds. life was hard.", "The line at Starbucks was always too long. Pokey hated coming here, actually, but the line at Dunkin, for some very strange reason, had been even longer today. So there he was, standing off to the side, waiting for someone in a green apron to hand him a drink.\n\n\"Pookie!\" He cursed under his breath. His name had only one O. Then again, it was Starbucks, so perhaps he should be counting his blessings. The smiling green apron repeated his order back to him. \"Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino with soy.\"\n\nA tear ran down his face. \"I... Vanilla Light... skim.\" More tears. His day was bad enough, he didn't need to be reminded of the love of his life at *Starbucks*, of all places. \"This was... Janie's drink.\"", "When we first got married she had told me I could fix any problem if I just brought her a cup of her favorite coffee. I know it’s silly, but I thought I’d try. \n\nI went to Starbucks after work and ordered one Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. What a name. I couldn’t remember anything lately but I remembered that perfectly. I even remembered the look on her face when we first got coffee together in College. She seemed so happy when she took her first sip. I couldn't stop staring at her. It was her eyes. They were so bright back then. So full of life. \n\nI wanted to give her that again. I wanted to get back to that place. I was ready to do everything I could. I was gonna find a job where I could work less like she always said she wanted and plan a vacation to anywhere she wanted to go and show her exactly what she meant to me every moment of every day. \n\nI’d been so focused on my career, but I didn’t care any more. Fuck making partner. Fuck making $2m a year. Fuck everything I’d been working my ass off for my whole life. If she wasn’t a part of it, I didn’t want it. All I wanted was her and I knew in that moment that I would give up everything to be with her.\n\nI opened the door and the cool air rushed over me. I walked into the kitchen, and saw her eating some fruit in front of her computer. Her eyes were every bit as beautiful as when I’d first met her. Sadder, but just as beautiful.\n‘I got you your favorite coffee. I know it isn’t much, but when we first met you said I could fix anything by just giving you a cup of it.’\n\nShe smiled a bit, and I handed it to her. She took a sip and looked up.\n‘Are you fucking kidding me? This isn’t my favorite coffee.’ \n\nMy heart dropped. What? It is. I remembered. I know I’d remembered. Didn’t I? Did I fuck this up too? She closed her computer and walked to the other room. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I had to get out of the house. I had to.\nWhat the fuck is wrong with me? How could I have done that? I should have asked one of her friends to make sure that was her favorite drink or something. I should have confirmed. \n\nI drove around for hours more upset than I’d ever been in my entire life. I hit my steering wheel so hard I heard a grinding noise every time I made a left turn. I was supposed to go to a work party, but it would have been too much. I figured I’d just go home and call it an early night. \n\nMy car ran out of gas half a mile from my house. It was in front of my friend Bob’s house, so I just left it. I couldn’t handle anything else right now. I just wanted to sleep. \n\nI walked in the door and heard her on the phone, so I just headed upstairs. The bed felt so comforting. I almost fell asleep immediately, but I knew she hated when I fell asleep in my clothes. It was a struggle, but I woke myself up and started putting on my pajamas. I wanted to make it work. \n\nThe door downstairs opened. I looked outside to see if she was leaving, but there was a car there. I didn’t recognize it. I heard a deep voice ask her why she was finally willing. She said ‘The frappuccino. I don’t know, I just am.’ The room went quiet. I didn’t understand.\n\nI decided to see who was there. I got to the top of the stairs and saw my wife’s shirt in between the door to the laundry room and the front door. I knew it was the shirt she’d been wearing earlier, but for some reason the two facts didn’t click. I just assumed she’d done laundry and left the shirt. By the time I’d gotten to the bottom of the stairs that should have been cleared up. I could hear them. I don’t know why I kept walking, but I guess I didn’t want to believe it was true. I finally got to the living room doorway and all I saw were shoulders on top of her. She pulled up and I looked right into her eyes - still as beautiful as ever. We both froze for a moment. Then I left. No words. No sound. I just left. As quietly as I’d come. \n\nI walked out of the cul-de-sac, onto the main road, and up the highway. I must have left before 7:30 because I ended up back at the starbucks a few minutes before closing. I walked in and sat on the couch. It was so comfortable, but I knew they were gonna kick me out so they could close the store. I didn’t care though. I was done. My whole life was gone. I had finally commit my whole mind to being with her and.. I couldn’t think about it. \nSure enough the barista called at me.\n\n‘Hey. Dude. on the couch.’\nI ignored him.\n‘Aren’t you the guy that asked me for the special drink with the hearts on it?’\nI looked up\n‘I’ve still got it here dude. You accidentally grabbed the Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy I made for my friend.’", "\"You can't just quickly make another one? This is really important. Please.\" The barista goes under the table and grabs a towel. \"Sorry bud, you can come tomorrow.\" She glared at me. \"I don't think I have until tomorrow...\" I slid my hands into my sweater pockets. No, I'm sick of her shit, I need this goddamned coffee! \"LISTEN TO ME. MAKE THIS GODDAMNED COFFEE NOW. I smash the soy double chocolate chip crème frappucino into her bitchy face. \"Get out of my god damned store! She yelled, and another man working there wrestled me outside. I walked away sobbing as the door crashes behind me. My phone lights up with the picture of Sally with her caffe vanilla light frappucino that she loves so much. I answer, but I already know what she's going to say. \"Goodbye, my love.\" She stops talking, and I hear doctors rushing around, and a single, constant tone.", "She hands me the cup and I can already tell she has fucked it up. I look at her name tag and as sarcastically as I can tell her \"Thank you for getting my order correct BRITTANY. She knows she fudged it but we go our separate ways. I sat down at a table in the back not wanting to show the other patrons how upset I was that the barista had given me the wrong drink. I had the first sipped and remember thinking, \"not bad\" when a man in a red ball cap sat down next to me. He had on a nice suit but it seemed dirty and the faint smell of BO wafted over me as he sat down. I already felt uneasy because there were two or three other open tables and he decided to sit down next to me. He slides a small box across the table with a note on it and his phone rings. He picks it up and only says Double Chocolate Chip Frap with Soy has the package. He then gets up and and walks out. I am still trying to wrap my mind around what just happened when the box begins to smoke. I open the note and read it aloud thinking it might help me process the information, \"The barista has the code\". I open the box to find what looks like a bomb with a 30 second clock connected to a small keypad. I run the box to the barista and scream at her to shut it off. Her look of pure fear shows me that she doesn't know what the hell I am talking about. The timer beeps 3......2......1....... The bomb goes off, but it is less of an explosion and more of a fiery ball of molten liquid. I am watching the baristas hands and arms melt in front of me. Her clothes have become so hot they are melting to her body. She looks up at me right before her eyes explode and says \"I'm sorry I got your order wrong\". A manager runs in from the back yelling her name, \"BRIT!, BRIT!, BRITTANY! Oh god nooo. Not my pregnant wife!\" At this point I pass out and don't remember anything until waking up with handcuffs on my hands and feet in the back of a cop car.", "I hate being that customer. I remember my days working at starbucks. I know how awful those people can be. The scary thing is that I have to be. It isnt being picky, and its not to be cool. Since the accident when my heart stopped, any tiny amount of caffeine can literally kill me. \n\nDouble chocolatey chips are one of the few drinks here that I can get with absolutely no caffeine. The reason its called \"chocolatey\" and not chocolate is that there is too small of an amount of cocoa in the Starbucks mocha... its literally caffeine free. \n\nI should have been paying attention when I picked up the cup, but all it took was one sip. I fell to the floor gasping for air and and writhing in pain. My face began to turn blue. If it hadnt been for the fire chief in for is daily quad iced skinny vanilla, I never would have survived. \n\n Im not going to raise a fuss, like I said, ive been there before. The barista even came to apologize in the hospital. I know the feel bad and it was an honest mistake, I just hope they learned to be more careful.", "I sipped my drink and sat on the park bench. The one on Signal Hill that overlooks the city. I always appreciated the aesthetic balance between the ladies walking their little white dogs in the foreground, the trees rustling in the breeze a short way further down the slope, and the cars rushing amongst the buildings in the distance like so many ants. I wonder what a renaissance painter would have done with such a scene. I'm no artist so I guess my appreciation of this little view will be lost to the wind. I brushed a bug off the lid of my drink and took another sip.\n\nI don't get a chance to come here much any more. Between slogging away trying to pay for an apartment in an area of town where I don't have to fear for my life and fighting horns-locked with my wife in an ugly divorce there hasn't been much time for idleness. I like the way the branches twist in the breeze, a nice change of pace from the straight lines of hallways and cubicle walls. I took another sip.\n\nAt first the child support payments didn't help my situation any, but I didn't mind too much because for all her faults my wife loved our kids too. The money would go to their quality of life and happiness. I miss Addy and Katie so much. Their bright squinty smiles when they were babies I can still bring to mind perfectly if I close my eyes. There, linger on it. Eyes closed but not to blackness, a bit of an orange hue through the eyelids from the sun. Take another sip.\n\nI didn't get to see them much when they were in town, but now that my wife has remarried and moved out of state I don't think I'll ever get to see them but maybe once a year. Once every other year. And then what? Ah, I'm trembling a bit. Here we go. I didn't know how much of my happiness was contained within simply kissing them on each of their little foreheads every night. A random hug around the belly every now and then, head pressed against my chest. It's killing me. Another sip should do it. A long gulp, there you go. I rubbed idly at my neck to relieve some of the constriction.\n\nI ordered my usual drink this morning, a Starbucks Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no-fat milk. A bit frou-frou I know, but the tiny pleasures are all I have left. I always watch the barista with an eagle eye because of my rare disease. I saw it happen. He accidentally shuffled the order around with the woman behind me who ordered the Double Chocolatey Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy. My jaw slacked open and I let out a subdued \"uh\" as I was about to correct him but a feeling washed over me. It was like the Universe was telling me it was time. An end to the pain. An absence of happiness is better than a presence of unhappiness. Just let it slide, easy. It will look like an accident. Your drink got switched up and you accidentally ingested the soy-chocolate combo that gives you a life-threatening allergic reaction. Hand shaking, another sip.\n\nI looked up at the clouds, eyes tearing up a bit from both physiology and emotion. I miss you so much right now my sweet angels! But soon I will miss nothing. I dropped the cup. The breeze feels nice.", "The Batista handed me my drink stone faced. She knew my mother died drinking a Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy because she was the one who served it to her. Why must you be so good, Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy, WHY!?!?! ", "The corner of 12th and Main is my corner. I sit there everyday, cup pointed at passersby, hoping for a quarter, nickel, anything. Times had been especially hard since the government started silently campaigning against the homeless. No one wanted to part with their change anymore. \n\nAt night, I would vanish, slinking into the shadows, avoiding trouble. I just wanted some food, some shelter to protect me from these hot nights. I'm not interested in brawling with the others, so I keep to myself. It has been a long time since I had a conversation with someone. Every morning, just before dawn, I head back to my corner.\n\nIt wasn't always like this. \n\nIt is the past. I am 12 years old and living with an abusive drunk mother, an absent father. I was the victim of horrible circumstance, bruises on my body. I find it hard to interact with my classmates, to make friends. I was alone, living my nightmare, sitting in my room, thinking there would be no end. Until one day. My aunt stopped by to chat with my mother. My aunt was beautiful. She was warm, and friendly, and I always loved it when she'd stop by. Her presence allowed me to escape from my reality. Usually her visits were short, my mother's strong personality would overshadow her gentle one, but on this day, she seemed determined. I listened as best I could from my room to the scene below me. I had never heard my own mother scream at someone like she was screaming at my aunt, but for what? I couldn't make out what they were saying, my ear pressed hard against the door. Suddenly I heard a crash, and then footsteps. They were coming towards my door. I cowered away, afraid of the abuse that was coming my way. I heard my door open, I felt a soft warm hand on my arm, I looked up. My aunt, beaming down at me. \"Let's go,\" she said, and I willingly followed. She led me out the front door, and I saw my mom in a heap on the floor, unconscious. \n\nI remember the car ride. I remember my aunt didn't want to go home right away. I remember going to the mall to pick out some clothes, a toothbrush. I remember we went to Starbucks. I had never been! My aunt ordered a Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk, she loved them, she told me. She ordered me a chocolate milk.\n\nI was 12 when I went to live with my Aunt. My life was the best it had ever been. My bruises healed, and I wasn't so scared to talk to the kids at my school. I started making friends, my grades went up. I even won an award for 'Most Improved.' My classmates cheered for me when I went to accept it. My aunt during all this was getting everything ready to file for custody. I was over the moon in love with her. I would have given my life for her, and I nearly did.\n\nOn June 21, 2009, my beautiful Aunt was shot in the heart by her own sister. My mom, drunk off of her iced teas, came to get me back. When my Aunt resisted, she shot her. A neighbour heard the gunshot and called the police. My mom was arrested at the scene, too drunk to understand what was going on. \n\nI spent the next year in foster care, being shuffled from house to house. Abuse and rape were prevalent. I retreated back into my shell, lost all of my friends, failed my classes until I eventually dropped out. Then one night, after learning I was going to new foster parents for the gazillionth time, I left. \n\nNow I live on the corner of 12th and Main. \n\nToday is a special day. A day I have been anticipating. A day I was preparing for mentally. It was my Aunt's birthday, and I wanted to honour her, and the life she had given me. At noon, I was going to walk down to 14th. There was a Starbucks there. I had been saving my dimes for weeks. I pick myself up off the ground. I try to clean myself up a bit, brush off the dirt, fix my hair. I begin my march down the street, avoiding all eye contact from others as I passed. \n\nThe glowing green sign reminded me of that day, the best day of my life. I go inside, it is so cool inside. I stand in line, practicing my order over and over again in my head, out loud. 'One Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk please' over and over again, until I got to the till. I could barely get the words out. Human interaction is so hard for me. Plus, it's so hot outside, I can barely think. 'Hi, can I haveaVanillaLightFrappuccinowithnon-fatmilk.' The barista asks me to repeat myself, I'm getting too anxious, I'm forgetting to say please. I take a deep breath and try again.\n\n'One Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk, please.' The barista nods. \n\nI did it. This is for you Aunty. \n\nThe barista asks my name, takes my change, and tells me to wait to the side. I do so. I wait. I wait, while I hear these complicated drinks being auctioned off. Then I hear my name. I go to the counter and announce myself, and the barista shoves a drink in my hand. It's brown, the milk smells sour. It's not at all like what my aunt told me she loved. \n\nI can barely speak, I am shaking. I try to tell the barista that there's been some terrible mistake, but she's gone. There are so many people staring at me, I have to get outside. I push through the sea of people, holding back my tears. \n\nOn the street you can't show weakness. People are walking by, on their way to their lives, on their way to their loved ones. But I go back to my corner. The corner of 12th and Main is my corner. \n\n\n", "As a white nationalist this is proof once again that the blacks are taking over. I ordered vanilla, something distinctly white and got chocolate, something black. But maybe this has nothing to do with blacks taking over and white people being descriminated against, maybe it just has something to do with people hating me. Figured so, the moment i approached the couple on this table they left, maybe its because im black. Does my life even have any value? Yeah sure, Obama is in the white house, a black guy, but are we really the same. Im more like kakao, while he is like milk chocolate, we are a different breed. I am not even worthy to walk on this ground, not even worthy to smell this bitter air... Worthless, isnt that what my mom called me when i fucked her sister, my aunt so to say. Man, i regretted it, or maybe not, but things changed after that. Maybe this Chocolate flavored drink is an enbodiment of my own misery? Oh wait, my name isnt even Joshua, its Josh... ", "The color was off. WAY off.\n\nAbsentmindedly, I attributed it to burnt coffee. It's -always- burnt coffee, really, but this batch was more burnt. I hopped in my car and sped off, frustrated. It wasn't until I got a few blocks down that I tried it. Instantly I realized what was wrong with my drink. It wasn't what I'd ordered at all.\n\nIt still tasted pretty good, but something else about it felt off. Something about the texture, the way it drank. \n\nEventually it became harder and harder to breathe. Soy. Of course.\n\nI rerouted my car toward the hospital, hoping in my desperation I could get there before the anaphylactic shock took me out entirely. I didn't have an Epi Pen with me today. Frantically I swerved through the streets, narrowly avoiding other cars as I navigated my way through the mid-morning traffic. I hit the OnStar button on my mirror as I began to fear I wasn't going to make it in time.\n\nGasps and wheezes were all I could get out. The operator on the other end began to panic as she heard the struggle on my end of the line. The GPS tracker in my car showing her my location, she began to cheer me on, asking me to hang in there as I heard her routing the ambulance through the local dispatcher.\n\nMy attention began to drift, I could tell that I was slowly losing consciousness. I could vaguely hear the sirens off in the distance. At this point I understood that the ambulance was closer than the hospital and tried my best to pull over. I was so out of it that I couldn't feel the brake, but I could tell I was slowing down. I pulled to the side of the road as I gently slipped into unconsciousness, car still in motion.", "As I pulled away from the drive-thru and took my first sip, it quickly hit me that this wasn't the Vanilla Light Frappuccino that I was used to. Should I turn around and go back to get my rightfully deserved order? Oh fuck, what does it matter anyway? My life has been a slow decline leading to this low of all lows, a fucking chocolate chip creme frap of all things.\n\nThis sweet reckoning isn't going to make things worse. How could it? It certainly isn't making things better though. Today was the day. I was finally turning things around; just let me get some caffeine in me first. That'll be a great start to the day and I can finally do something. Finally forget.\n\n...but no. Here I am, sugar overdose in my hand. I can't even drink this thing! I'm not going to be productive today, that's for sure. Maybe tomorrow...Oh fuck, I've been saying that for weeks, months even. Why bother trying? Tomorrow will just be another double chocolaty chip kick in the face. This may have been the final blow, the catalyst to my undoing. It was inevitable. Sink too deep and you'll eventually hit the bottom.\n\nThere's no coming back up now, not from this bottomless chocolaty well I've fallen into. It's getting dark, my vision's blurry, I can't think straight. Why am I here? Why the fuck did he give me this chocolate chip creme frappuccino like I'm some 14 year old girl. Is that what I've been reduced to in this world?\n\nAs I step off the chair and the rope tightens around my neck, of course it spins me around to stare at my own personal end: that icy drink slowly melting on my bedside table. In these last dying moments, I can't help but think: Who fucking drinks a Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino anyway?", "I'd had all I could take. First I walk in on my wife and my best friend sleeping together. Then I get the notice via email that I have been laid off due to a corporate merger. \"Fuck it\" I thought. I just needed to get away and clear my mind. Coffee always cheered me up. So, oblivious to the world around me I climb into my car and head to Starbucks. *BANG* I get side swiped along the way and blow a tire out. \"Why me, why today?!? What did I do?!?!\" I get out and asses the damage. Not only has the tire blown but when I look at the spare its flat. I push my car to the side and look up. I'm at James and 1st street, only six more blocks to Starbucks. As I walk I think back in misery on today's events. Now more than ever I needed a visit with my shrink but having been laid off from work on the last day of the month I would have no insurance to cover the co-pay. As I descend into misery holding back tears I look at that green sign hoping I've reached some sort of salvation for the day. As my turn at the counter approaches I order my drink. \"Cafe Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk please.\" I pay and step to the side to wait. My thoughts continue to dwell on the day. \"My best friend, my wife, my job, my car? All in the space of an hour?\" what did I do to deserve this, how am I going to keep going? Where am I going to go at this point? Just then I hear the barista announce \"Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino for Will\". \"Thats not right\" I think to myself. I look around quickly and notice I'm the only one waiting on a drink at this point. Again the barista announces \"Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino for Will.\" I walk up say thank you and take the drink. \"That's it, not even the barista cares enough. I'm done.\" I blank out the world and begin to walk outside. In the distance I hear someone calling my name but I'm already gone. I take one sip of the drink and step in front of the oncoming bus.\" Maybe if I'd heard the person calling my name I would have heard my drink got switched with another Will in Drive-through. Too late now I guess.", "So I'm at the counter placing my order, and I'm like \"Drax?\" and he tells me he's researching a new role, and to be cool. We talk for a bit, and he knew the drill, from Bryan to Bluetista. His eyes drift behind me, and I stop talking.\n\n\"I'm sorry, one of my best friends, actually my ex-wife, her cancer returned. I just found out this morning.\"\n\nHe handed me my drink. Walking away, I could tell something wasn't right.....", "\"Mommy, why they are taking daddy away?\"\n \nMary-Ann, holding back her tears and trying to act normal, took little Johnny in her arms. \"Sweetheart, you are a bit young to understand this... but daddy is going to go for a little holiday.\"\n\n\"Is daddy going to Disneyland?\"\n\nThe years he had spent working for the company had turned Terry into a bald and bitter fat old man. Even if he was just forty-three, he looked fifty. If someone told you he used to be a quarterback in high school, you'd call them a liar. \n\n\"Ma'am\", said the officer. \"I'm sorry.\"\n\nStarbucks coming to the city had forced the local coffee shop to quit the business just weeks before, leaving Terry and his co-workers unemployed. His younger colleagues had had better luck finding job at the new place, but Terry hadn't been as lucky - until today. \n\n\"Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino. No fat milk.\"\n\nTerry couldn't believe his ears when he heard the news. The local high school needed a janitor and they actually had called him -- and asked to come in for an interview! So, naturally, it was time for a small celebration in the form of a good ol' Frappuccino.\n\n\"That'll be seven twenty!\"\n\nTerry thanked, smiled and took a sip. He knew this would change everything. He needed a change in his life and this was it. He'd start hitting the gym again, spend time with Timmy and Johnny and his wife, go fishing with friends, start bowling and...\n\n\"Die? He died?! From soy milk? I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry,\" said the Starbucks barrista and collapsed. \"Oh God no. I mixed up the orders and did him a Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy milk... oh I'm so fucking sorry. Oh fuck me.\"", "Miami Metro homicide was a life he left behind. He didn't want to think about murder scenes or working with overly obsessed blood spatter analysts. He just wanted to make coffee.\n\nThen it happened. A tan fit man I recognized from the many stories, came in with his sister the detective. He knew there was no way he was getting away from them. He had told me about them so many times. About how they ruined his life. I normally wasn't the kind of guy anyone could confide in, but the many times visits had bred familiarity between us. I placed my order, the usual, a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. \n\nBut his distraction, his emotions, obviously got the better of him, because what I received was a Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy. He was still talking with his old friends, the Morgans, and I could tell they were going to ruin his idyllic life of coffee making, one way or the other. \n\nSoon enough he takes of his apron and follows them out the door. There he goes, my own Angel. Angel Batista, the best barista in Miami, pulled back into the stuff of nightmares.", "I entered the Starbucks with an intention of purchasing my daily caffe vanilla light frappuccino with no fat milk. It has been this way for years but today I've been forced to visit the Starbucks two blocks away since my regular Starbucks is being remodeled. I walked up to the counter and asked the rather large barister for my regular. He told me I'm a cunt and asked if I knew who he was. I said no and he yelled \"I am Batista!\" and loaded a still steaming double chocolaty chip creme frappuccino with soy into the ballista behind the counter. The chocolate and soy was launched into my face, leaving it the disfigured monstrosity you see today.\n\nThank you for listening to my tale, In the hopes that this will never happen again please sign my petition to get all ballistas and Batista's removed from coffee shops.", "I have owned a top of the line coffee shop for 25 years; serving nothing but the highest quality coffee with gourmet chocolate. Our customer base was large, as we had a friendly environment that welcomed whoever decided to stop in. \nAnd yet in a blink of an eye it was shut down.\nEvery morning, I would wake up, drive over to the shop, make myself a Mocha Frappuccino with soy. It was a reward to myself for coming this far. \nAnd yet in a blink of an eye it was shut down.\nSo now I walk down the street from where I used to tend to every man woman and child who was lucky enough to experience my shop. It is 8:30 in the morning. I see a Starbucks out of the corner of my eye, and realize that they are the reason that I am walking down this sad street, alone. It has already been decided that I am to walk into this hell of a shop and order one last Mocha Frappuccino with soy...\nWait, what?\nMocha frapp... Mocha frapp... Mocha frapp...\nTheres no such thing?\nI walk up to the young Barista and ask him if they have Mocha Frappuccinos with soy instead of milk.\n\"Do you mean our Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino with soy, Sir?\"\nI involuntarily laughed and asked him if that was really a thing.\nHe said yes and asked if that was what I would like.\nI gave the man a ridiculous amount of money for a \"tall\" or whatever and waited at the counter for my last Mocha Frappuccino from the joke of a company that put me out of business. ", "I met her in a sea of trees, we shook limbs and our palmistry aligned. Lightning struck when her golden eyes glanced my way. She danced like one of those used car lot tube dancers, but with a sway in her hips and perfect rhythm. \n\nWe went out a month later for the first time. I was nervous and the quad espresso I ordered made me all the more jittery. She didn't drink caffeine and got a soy double chocolate chip frappucino. No whip. We sucked down our respective beverages and talked about the meanings of our lives. \n\nShe grew up wealthy but was jaded by extravagance. Instead, she lived the life of a working poor. In her words, she needed to feel like she was making her own way, becoming someone herself instead of turning to the easy comforts of wealth and memory foam. As such, she lived in a shitty neighborhood and rode her bike into the city every day. \n\nI pulled up to her apartment after our coffee date. We sat in the car for a few minutes, afraid to be the first to suggest our separation. Finally I said adieu and gave her a gentle, firm hug that warmed me from the toes up. One last look into those golden brown eyes and I was on my way. \n\nA few weeks later I heard the news. We'd been talking about dinner in the next couple days. Apparently the driver, strung out on heroin, didn't even see her on her bike in the oncoming traffic lane. The driver either didn't notice that he'd hit her, or was too stoned to care. Either way he left her there in a tangled mess of spokes and bones. \n\nWe sometimes forget that even the most beautiful and flawless among us bleed like all the rest. I've tried to forget that fact every day since I heard.\n\nI've stopped ordering quad espressos. They remind me too much of her golden-eyes glances. Since then, I've switched to a skinny vanilla latte. It's warm out today, though. Maybe I'll go for a caffe vanilla frappucino light. No whip.", "I entered into the little cafe on the corner. It was a quiet day in may, the year 2031. My eyes scanned over the coffee shop coming to rest upon the large man behind the counter. Tattoos coated what parts of his arm unhidden by his black and green polo top. A thick beard coated his chin black locks upon his head.\n\nOh how he had fallen from grace from fame and fortune. A former world champion, A Former Movie Star. I stood in front of the counter scanning the drink placed into my hand. His eyes would scan me I could feel the nervousness from the male hoping he wouldn't be noticed. My mouth dry I slowy opened it letting out a short sentence.\n\n\"This isn't what I ordered, Drax.\" ", "“Here,” he said, as he placed a coffee in front me. \n\nHis voice woke me from my silent stupor, grounding me back into reality. He sat down, and sipped his coffee. \n\n“Thought you might like something different,” he said.\n\nI took a sip. It was sweet. This was not the caffe vanilla light frappucino with no fat milk that I asked for.\n\n“It’s a double chocolaty chip crème frappuccino with soy,” he said knowingly.\n\nHis words were all I could focus on. \n\n“Here,” he said.\n\nHe handed me several napkins. I took them, dried my eyes, and blew my nose. I didn’t care that people heard. I looked at him through swollen eyes; his were holding back pain.\n\n“Dad…” I said meekly.\n\nHe started to sob. I hugged him hard and cried. \n\n“It’s okay. It’s okay,” he said.\n\nI sat back down and took a long drink from my coffee. He looked at me reassuringly and said, “We’re gonna be okay.”\n\nHe managed a smile. I took another long drink and smiled in between sniffles.\n\nFive years ago, I broke my habit of always ordering the same drink. Today I order my coffee alone. \n\n“Dad.”\n\nI take a long drink.\n\n\"It hurts.\"\n", "I took it silently and sat down, stirring it while the seat under me warmed up. The spot on my left remained empty-- something that'd still take some getting used to. \n\nI smiled as I thought about the little guy, running around the place and needing frequent reminders that he needed to sit down and drink his hot chocolate. Demanding that I give him some of my drink. Every single weekend when I picked him up from his mom's place.\n\nI pushed the drink away a few inches as I lifted my head back and inhaled a deep, staggered breath. I was hoping what I'd ordered would be a good transition drink. Something to bring me out of the funk I'd been in.\n\nAs quiet as I am, even my friends were noticing I hadn't been around as much. A few of them had come over the first week or two after the tyke had gone into the hospital, but I guess as the stress built up and I'd sort of collapsed, I'd just neglected to taking their phone calls.\n\nI pulled my phone out of my pocket, ignoring the month and a half of missed calls that had piled up. Ignoring the obligatory \"sorry for your loss\" messages that my friends had left. I started a new message to my buddy Brian, \"Hey dude-- it's been awhile. Want to grab a beer this weekend?\"\n\nMid-message I heard one of the Barista's call over, \"Sir? Is your drink okay? We can make you a new one if you don't like it.\"\n\nI hit send and mulled it over for a split second. \"No, it's fine.\" I took a drink of the super sweet chocolaty drink he'd put in front of me and chuckled to myself. The gremlin would have loved this.", "Any other day of the week I would have made my own damn cup of coffee. Instead, today was our anniversary. To celebrate I have to order her favorite. Of course the rain came down in sheets and the freezing air nipped every part of my exposed body. But it's all worth it. It's all worth it for you.\n\nShivering as I finally enter the warmth of the local Starbucks, the fragrance of fresh roasted coffee grounds blossoming beneath me I choke back tears. I'm here, for you. Because you love these damn, stupid things.\n\nA disinterested, willowy young girl half-heartedly greeted me and I ask for your order. I give her my change and step back to take a sip. \n\nInstead of memories flooding me, the first time we met (12 am in that shitty downtown Starbucks while cramming for finals), or how funny I thought it was when you sucked them back constantly while pregnant with our beautiful daughter, or the times when you had a rotten day and you'd smile when I brought you one, your face lighting up like you'd one the goddamn lottery. \n\nInstead of all that, it tastes off. I quickly ask \"Excuse me, is this a double chocolate chip creme with soy?\" And the disinterested girl looks stunned and says, \"No, I'm sorry I made it with non-fat milk.\" \n\nAnd I crumble and being to shake and in my rage run out into that shitty, fucking weather and cry until I feel like I'll die. Then finally, maybe we'd be together. Then things would be like they were before you got that horrible, unfair disease that ate you from the inside out. That peace of shit unlucky hand. Watching you wither and wilt and fade away. \n\nNow all I have is that stupid, goddamn drink to remember you.", "As usual, I spend my short lunch break searching for a writing prompt that I could actually connect to. As usual, every comment is far superior to mine. I sigh and step forward with the rest of queue, one step closer to the same Starbucks coffee I order every day.\n\nI know it's pretentious. It hurts me a little to order it. That never stops me, though, because the Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk is *my* drink. I love everything about it. The consistency, the taste. The way it feels inside of me; the way it makes me feel. \n\nAs I order, something grabs my attention. A post, on /r/writingprompts. A post that I can directly relate to! It's a post that asks me to describe getting the wrong drink at Starbucks. Could it be more perfect?\n\nI type feverishly, finally able to let my thoughts flow. I'm so buried in my phone that I can barely mutter my own name when the barista asks.\n\nI type non-stop for about five minutes before I realise something is wrong. My drink is not here; the familiar smell is missing, and my name hasn't been called. One cup sits alone on the counter. Frowning, I reach up and turn it round to find a cruel, twisted comedy of what should have been my name. I remove the lid to find-\n\nI close the lid quickly, but not before I see the lumps of chocolate floating on some king of brownish coffee-cream mix.\n\nThis must be some kind of sick joke.\n\nI raise my head to protest, my face the picture of disgust. However, I only let a small, almost silent moan. It is at this point that I realised that my barista is in fact not a barista; it is world-famous wrestling superstar Batista.\n\nBatista raises a hand and points. He speaks a single word.\n\"Coffee.\"\n\nI realise my mouth is still open. I close it. Yes, the coffee is completely wrong, but who's going to argue with Batista? It's sure as fuck not me. I pick up the cup and decide to find another barista- maybe they can tame their new infamous worker.\n\nI swivel towards a sea of Batista. Every single person in the shop has been turned into Batista. Unsure what to do with myself, I walk stunned out of the shop. As I pretty much expected, the high street belonged to Batista. There was no escape from Batista.\n\nCoffee. Not even once.\n\n//changed restaurant to shop, can't get a three course meal at Starbucks.\n\nAlso I realised halfway through writing that this joke had been made, but I was enjoying writing this so just finished it.", "\"Aye Me! For aught that I could ever read, could ever tell by the course of history! the course of true love never did run smooth, but either it was different in love, or misgraphed in the course of years, or it stood upon the choice of friends. If there was a sympathy in choice, war death or sickness did lay siege to it making it momentary as a sound, quick as shadow, swift as the wind, and brief as the lightning in the coiled night so that quick bright things, come to confusion!!! Good day to you sir\" proceeds to bite his thumb at said barista and storms out the shop in both anger and sadness", "The doctor had said that he could have anything he wanted as there wasn't much time left. \n\nWe met at a coffee shop plenty of years ago. I held my Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino and he had the same thing, but with soy milk. We sat down at the only table as complete strangers, trying to convince one another that our own drink was superior. We rambled for so long that, eventually, we were asked to leave as they were closing. That night was the beginning of a new life.\n\n\"Jake!\" The barista yelled, trying to get my attention. I stopped daydreaming and took the two drinks concealed in hot drink cups, ordered this time with soy, and left the Starbucks stationed in the lobby of the hospital at which he was staying. As I walked towards the ICU, I feigned a smile for him before opening the door. \n\n\"Hey Jake,\" Ben started, \"I see you have our drink.\" For the amount of pain he was in, he grinned convincingly. I handed him his drink and took a sip of my own. Immediately, I realized that it wasn't what I ordered. I looked over to Ben, who was still grinning and cherishing the refreshment. \"It's so good. Thanks Jake, but I'm going to get some sleep now; I'm quite tired.\" \n\nAs the man fell into his slumber and his grin started to disappear, the heart monitor flat lined and marked his passing. I sat beside him, but was fixated at his drink. I eventually decided to take a sip, and realized it was also wrong. Perhaps the therapy had destroyed his taste buds, but at least he thought it was his favorite drink, the Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frap with soy.\n\n", "Tears came rushing to the brim of her eyes, as she tried hard to fight them back. Luckily, she was the only customer there this early, so no strangers could witness her meltdown. Rachel, the barista, looked at her with concern, \"Are you okay? Did I mess up your order?\" Meghan smiled meekly as she walked out the door, \"No, no, it's fine. Just allergies.\" Once she got outside, she walked until she knew that she was out of sight, stopping at a patch of spruce trees. She stared for a minute at the drink in her hand. \"One Double Chocolate Chip Frap with soy for me, and Meghan, what do you want?\" Her mom would ask as they approached the Starbucks counter. It had been their Saturday ritual: Starbucks and shopping... Sometimes they would see a movie. Every Saturday for god knows how long. That is, until... Meghan's fenced-in tears released all at once, with an aching cry. \"Mommmm,\" she wailed as she collapsed on the pine-needle-covered ground. She clutched the mistaken drink like it was a sacred relic, the last surviving piece of her beautiful mother. It had been a month since Meghan got the phone call from the hospital. A car crash. The roads were slick from rain. It was dark, and her car hit head-on into a tree. She didn't make it. The frappuccino's whipped cream had melted a bit and was slowly leaking onto Meghan's hands, but she made no effort to clean them. Tears streamed down her face, but again, she did not try to wipe them. She was tired of having to play strong, answer \"I'm okay\" when people asked how she was doing. She needed to break, and stay broken. \"I can't do this without you,\" she whispered to the September sky. \"I miss you.\" ", "After realizing you get the wrong sort of drink, you ask to the man in anger 'What the fuck is this?!\" You look up at him, only to realize Batista is serving you. (Probably typo by op for Barista... Batista is a big buff character in wwe.) You start to feel your sweat come from your skin as you slowly walk back, shaking... He lifts you up from your collar, then rips his shirt off showing his big buff abs and defined muscles. You are turned on for a second, then realize the situation you are in. After throwing you on the ground he yells \"DONT INSULT MY FUCKING DRINKS!\" At this point you are frantically running to the door as bystanders watch in shock, he grabs your foot, drags you back, and punches you hard across... Left, right, left, right, until you roll away wher proceeds to smash your head repeatedly against a wall. Slowly, you lose all strength in your body, and everything starts to turn dark...\n\n\nYou wake up in Hospital with a few family members. This is where you take your last breath.\n\nEdit 1: I'm not fixing the grammar. ", "**MAN:** Excuse me, I think there's been a mistake. I ordered the double choc--\n\n**BARISTA:** Sorry, that's for the man behind you. He has the same name as you. Here's your soy bullshit, Jebediah! And here you go with some non fat milk contraption other Jebediah.\n\n**MAN:** Thanks. (turns) (walks towards door) (slips on puddle of spilt half and half) ARRRRRGH! MY LEG!\n\n**BARISTA:** Whoa! You can see bone sticking out!\n\n**MAN:** I'm hurt!\n\n**BARISTA:** Does anyone here know CPR?\n\n**MAN:** CPR? CALL A FREAKIN' AMBULANCE!\n\n**BARISTA:** Hey! Anyone got a phone?\n\n**MAN:** MINE'S ON THE FLOOR RIGHT THERE COVERED IN BLOOD DEAR GOD CALL FOR HELP!!!\n\n**BARISTA:** So sticky! OK, just gotta swipe it open and... uh-oh.\n\n**MAN:** HURRY UP!\n\n**BARISTA:** There's a text here from your wife. She says she's leaving you.\n\n**MAN:** DON'T CARE! CALL THE GODDAMN AMBULANCE!\n\n**BARISTA:** Yes, we need an ambulance for Jedediah. No, the other one. The non fat guy, not Jebby Soy. (laughs) Yeah, uh-huh. Hey, they say they're already at your house.\n\n**MAN:** WHAT?\n\n**BARISTA:** The twins are dead. They were playing on the roof and snapped their neck when they fell off.\n\n**MAN:** OH MY GOD! \n\n**BARISTA:** But they're sending another ambulance for you, right after the clean off the front of the one that ran over your dog.\n\n**MAN** Duke is dead, too?\n\n**BARISTA:** Yes, but he was already dead when the ambulance ran him over. He got shot by your neighbor.\n\n**MAN:** WHAT????\n\n**BARISTA:** I can hear the siren now. It should be here in a-- oh, Jebby Soy. What's that? Oh, right! I get those mixed up all the time. I made two soy drinks and no non fat one.\n\n**MAN:** I DIDN'T EVEN GET THE RIGHT COFFEE?\n\n**BARISTA:** Whoops!\n\n*END SCENE*", "That was when it hit me.\n\nWhat a joke I am.\n\nAll that rage... so much rage. It burned inside me; the flames scalded me, transformed me into a withered husk of what I had once been. \n\nIt was ugly. So ugly.\n\nWhat was it? What had happened to me that caused this insatiable wrath? What could have me frothing with such red, acidic hatred? \n\nI was a terrible person. I made other people so sad and frightened and I enjoyed it. I was fueled by a vortex of pure, venomous malice. And what triggered such an absurdly hyperbolic reaction? What sparked my fit of bilious malice?\n\nI was given the wrong drink. \n\nThat was it. \n\nIt wasn't worth it. Oh, God, it wasn't worth it at all.", "I went to starbucks this morning. I was on my phone and not really paying attention to the ba*r*ista who was serving me. What I got was not what I ordered. I turned around and started complaining loudly. That's when I realised that I was being served by WWE wrestler Ba*t*ista. His face got screwed up. He grabbed me and lifted me over his head and threw me down on the table and then poured the wrong coffee down my throat.", "I quietly shut the door and set the tray of coffee down on the bedside table. As I sat down in the corner chair by the window, I tried to drown out the insistent beeps with thought. That only served to make things worse - reminding me of how much more I should have done, and how it was too late for me to anything more. At least the coffee would be a special treat.\n\nDuring what felt like hours, but was no more than ten minutes, I thought of what a failure I was. I threw my life away for a career I hate, never spending enough time with Susan or Michelle. If I had just said I couldn't make it to that meeting, if I had just driven the girls to Michelle's dance recital like I said I would, maybe Susan would still be here and Michelle, well.... wouldn't.\n\n\"Da... Dad?\"\n\nHearing the weak, pained voice brought me back to the present. \"Yes, sweetie, I'm here,\" I said through a smile, trying my hardest not to betray my true emotions.\n\n\"Where's mom? I remember her screaming, a loud crash... is she OK?\" Michelle asked through a trembling voice. Did she already know the answer?\n\n\"She's.. she is at home, resting. I'll bring her here, first thing in the morning, OK?\" It hurt, telling that lie. But the doctors warned me Michelle wouldn't make it through the night, and I can't bear to see any more pain on her beautiful face. \"She told me to get this for you, though\" I said, as I held the drink in front of her so she could take a sip. It was a special treat that Susan got Michelle after her dance classes. Susan said that it was Michelle's favorite drink, and that it would mean a lot of I bought her one on the way home from the recital. \n\nShe perked up and smiled as I brought the straw to her lips, but the smile quickly faded as she took a sip. \n\n\"What's wrong, hunny? Are you in pain? I can see if the doctors could give you some more pain meds.\"\n\n\"Dad... what happened... mom? She knows... hate chocolate chips...\" Tears streamed down Michelle's face, and I could see the life pour out of her in defeat, taking the last of her fight with it.\n\nI managed a feeble, \"I'm so sorry...\" It wasn't enough. Nothing would be.\n\n\"Dad... you lied...\" were the last words out of Michelles mouth. ", "When you date someone for a long time, every little action and nuance becomes an ornamentation you remember. It somehow becomes engraved in your character. As if its now a part of your being. Anyone who has been there knows how literal this feels, and how terrifingly sad it is once they've left you.\n\nMe and my ex were Starbucks fanatics. It's funny in retrospect, but sad to think of how nostalgic that place is now. I always try and avoid the one location we always went to, until one day I just couldn't avoid it. It was either be late and ruin my day or just get my frikken Caffe Vanilla Light Frappuccino (I know, its the Starbucks disease to have multo worded orders). I figured, it's been like three years, I doubt I'll fall to the floor is pain and sorrow upon walking in. \nIt was a bit eerie, but I made my way to the counter. Everything was fine, ordering was like at any other location. My autopilot got everything out efficiently and I stood to the side waiting for my order.\n\nBut when it came I knew that wasn't my order. A sense of anxiety started to creep into my as I recognized the drink. \n\"Excuse me, I didn't order this.\"\n\"I'm sorry, didn't you ask for the Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino?\"\n\nMy heart sort of dented as I realized what I'd done. As if it were a second nature, and if somewhere in the back of my mind was a repeating record, I without a second thought order their drink. They always used to order it and I thought about each word everytime and admired how elaborate it was. I started laughing a bit because I knew what this meant. No matter how much I thought that I had made them a distant memory, they were still somewhere in my subconcious. This impending thought and feeling of it \"never ending\" overwhelmed me and I started to cry a little. Akwardly and meekly I apologized and left without the drink. Sitting now in my car I did something I never let myself do, just cry and cry until I couldnt anymore.\n\nI came here to be on time. In a different kind of irony, I feel like I came here too soon.", "Lieutenant Batista getting fired from Miami-Metro, having to work at Starbucks hearing you bitch about your drink and then leaping over the counter and beating your ass sounds funny and tragic.", "Starbucks Batista\n\nhttp://imgur.com/65k9noU\n\nStarbucks Batista leaned over the counter and handed me my chocolaty beverage. He must have sensed my dissatisfaction because he looked at me with the most intense \"fuck off or i will eat you\" type of vibe...after a few seconds of uncomfortable staring he proclaimed \"Basketballs....don't hold grudges\" and that was that. ", "I sat in my chair eying the drink I had not ordered, but I had to forgive the mistake as I choked back tears. In the soul crushing realization that \"The Animal\" Dave Batista was reduced to serving at Starbucks. It had not been so long ago that he was part of Evolution with Triple H and the Nature Boy Rick Flair. Now I look upon this once veritable mass of fury as he quietly slinks behind the counter to his dark fall from the public eye. A single tear drops from my cheek.", "\"Hey... It's me Dom, today wasn't so good, It looks like they are letting me go after all. I'll be home soon, I'm in the coffee shop where we sat the first day we met, it's a Starbucks now, it still does our drink if you can believe that? I'll never forget how hot I was when I walked in that day, card missing and not enough change to buy a cold drink, yet there you were hand out stretched with the last money you had on earth, offering it to me. We bonded over that Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino, it was just a short year later it was my turn to hold my hand out to yours instead, but with a ring. Anyway, I had better go darling, the drink is nearly ready. I miss you honey.\" \n\nAfter the automated voice thanked me for leaving her a message I go to place my phone back in my pocket, stealthily wiping my eyes clear of the collecting tears with my sleeve, lightly moistening the old worn fabric of my coat, the same coat I'd worn that day we had met, five years ago in fact.\n\n\"Sir?\" I look up and see the Barista smiling at me. \"Here you go sir\" she chirps, handing me my coffee. I try to say thank you but the words simply stick in my throat, I manage a half smile and walk over to table by the window where we sat all those years ago, placing my coffee down before I sit, careful to not spill its contents lest I spoil my memories of this pace with anything bad.\n\nI sigh, I've been doing it a lot recently, this sigh though... I feel strangely content, relieved even. I hated that job, good riddance in all honesty. I never had the courage to quit, I guess now I don't have to.\n\nI take a sip of the coffee, the chocolate taste biting my tongue. It's not our coffee. It's... not... The tears come back again, but this time I make no effort to wipe them clear, not now, not this. This was supposed to be the same as before, I lose my self in the tears, I never even hear her approaching.\n\n\"Sir?\" The voice of the Barista, but now subdued .\n\nI look up at her, concern on her face.\n\n\"Why did she have to die?\" I ask, the contents of the plastic coffee cup slowing pooling on the floor around me.\n\n\n\n", "I sat down on the warm grass and made myself comfortable. Back against a large oak tree, sun dappled through the leaves. This couldn't be much better.\n\nIt's a shame all of these coffee places serve everything in cardboard these days. I guess I could have got it in a mug but that would involve staying in the coffee shop. People and me don't really work these days.\n\nI take the top off the cardboard cup and inhale. This doesn't smell right. I'm getting no hint of vanilla, and it smells like what?...... chocolate?\nI take sip and I immediately feel sick. IT'S NOT THE RIGHT FUCKING DRINK!!\n\nI immediately feel the rage coming. I'm now running towards the coffee shop, drink in hand. I barge through the door and push my way to the front of the line. The young girl behind the counter is terrified, it's probably because I'm screaming at her. I'm demanding she give me what I ordered. She's apologising and saying something about being out of vanilla. I don't know what hse's saying but next thing my drink has been hurled at the wall behind the counter. I hear people shuffling to get away from me and now they're leaving the store. \n\nA teenage boy is laughing at me. I confront him, and next thing I know he's pushed me to the ground. He calls me a stupid old bum and people are telling me to leave. I feel a hand on my arm helping me to my feet. I turn around to look at my saviour and see a very large security guard. He inform me it's time to go back to Berkeley Park and sweeps me through the front door.\n\nI'm out on the street and I'm weeping. I shuffle off towards the park. They don't understand, they just don't. Vanilla Frappucino, that's all I wanted. I had to beg for 2 days to get enough money to buy it from Bellucci's, with their overpriced menu. They don't even recognise me, don't remember me. DON'T REMEMBER HER!!!!\n\nIt was her drink. My beautiful Cara. Oh sweet Cara! She used to meet me here every Friday during her break from school. This was her ridiculous drink, not mine. I bought this for her every Friday while she was at school. I bought this for her every Friday when she was in hospita and birng it to herl. This was our drink. She'd make fun of her stupid old man and his long black while she drank her trendy faux-coffee milkshake and I loved every damn minute of it.\n\nThis was before she got sick, when she got sick. Once she died, I'd have one every Friday. Every fucking Friday for what, two years? They don't remember me, they don;t remember her. \n\nThis was before I lost my job, lost my wife.... lost my mind? I can't afford to go to Belluci's every Friday now. Even if I could I'm not welcome there, I'm the crazy old homeless guy trying to act like he's 20 by drinking trendy overpriced drinks. \n\nI check my pocket's. I have twenty-five cents. I can't buy anything, and they wouldn't let me in even if I could. \n\n67 Fridays and counting now we haven't had a drink together.", "I shuffled away from the funeral, sniffling and trying to dry my eyes. Every Sunday, for the past ten years, I had gone to the home where my thankless and thoughtless parents had left my grandfather, and picked him up. I didn't always have gas money, and more than once I tried to hide my embarrassment when I saw him looking at my change engine light. \n\n\"Donny,\" he would say, \"let me get this.\" And I would let him. I think it made him feel good, to be able to buy me the coffee I wanted. We would sit, him with his cup of straight black coffee, and me with my Cafe Vanilla Light Frappucino, with no fat milk, and talk about our lives. He had the best stories. Sometimes our barista would sit down and have a chat with us. Gramps would flirt with her, and she would humor him. The halcyon days.\n\nThen things started to get bad. Maybe once in a while, Grampa would forget her name. Or forget mine. Or forget where we were. He'd call me Thomas, and ask when the L.T. was gonna be back with the new orders. I would tell him the war was decades ago, and he would laugh it off. The normally-deep wrinkles at the corners of his eyes would become just a little deeper, and I would try to forget.\n\nAnd yet, we continued our pattern. Every Sunday, him with the black, me with my frappucino. The same order. The baristas came to know us, and to have that order ready when we walked in. Our table was always clear, always clean. It took on the cadence of ritual, and like all good rituals, provided comfort and security in a world that was slowly devolving around us, slipping away like the gossamer cobwebs of memory from my grandfather's failing grasp.\n\nThen came the day when I knocked on that cheap, plywood door at the home, and there was no answer. The heart-thudding walk to the office. Trying to play it cool while I asked whether my grandfather might be in the rec room. The resigned look in the orderly's eyes. The listless way he jangled his keys to open the door.\n\nThe horrible, peaceful scene within.\n\nThe funeral had been worse. My false, teary-eyed parents accepting condolences like johnny-come-lately vampires. The alligator tears and bored looks at wristwatches. Sorry Granddad's death has inconvenienced you. Wouldn't want you to miss your football games, Dad.\n\nI couldn't take it. After the graveside service, on this Sunday of all Sundays, I needed my ritual. I needed my comfort. \n\nLuckily, it was a familiar barista. \"Hey Jen,\" I said, sweeping in, bedecked in the black of mourning. \"Get me the usual.\"\n\n\"Sure thing, Mr. Don,\" she said, and busied herself behind the counter. I sat at my usual table, staring forlornly at the empty seat across from me, willing time to reverse its inexorable flow to a time when the world wasn't missing its light.\n\nJen brought me my cup. I twisted it in my hands, feeling the cardboard buckle slightly under the pressure of my hands. I lifted it to my lips, stopped, and lowered it. \"To you, Gramps,\" I said, a glass raised to empty air. After a limitless moment had been swept away, I again pressed the plastic rim of the cup to my lips, and drank.\n\nThe flavor of the Cafe Vanilla Light Frappucino, with no fat milk, is indescribable. One might as well assume he could explain the shimmering iridescence of a field of violets, waving in the wind, to a child blind from birth. It contains the sweetness and the bitter, the airy lightness and heavy creaminess that defines, for me, the appropriate taste of coffee. It is comfort reduced to a draught and poured for me by angels.\n\nBut the brew that basted my lips was foamy, chocolate-flavored, and granular, as if it contained shavings of chocolate. Beneath it all was the harsh, vegetal crispness of soy. I spit it out, the effluvium landing on the seat, my grandfather's seat. I dropped the cup. The table, our table, sat mutely as the lip popped off and dark, brown liquid began to run across its surface, following the infinitely mutable fractal pathways of chaos. I stood, too quickly, and into the person behind me. I heard her shout in alarm as her laptop fell from the table onto the ground. There was a sickening, crunching sound of impact. \n\nTears clogging my sight, I turned to flee. Straight into Jen. Hot coffee splashed between us. She yelped in pain and cursed. Her manager, thundering above the din, \"Jennifer! That is not work appropriate language! Get your things and *leave*. If I've told you once, I've...\"\n\nI could not hear him as I burst through the door and into the parking lot. Quiet winter sun above me, cold air stinging my nose, I fumbled with my keys at the door of my car. Glass crunched beneath my feet. Glass? I looked. My window lay shattered, papers strewn about the inside of my car. A gaping maw where my stereo used to be. Who steals a stereo from a mid-90s Civic? Honestly?\n\nI sat in the pile of shattered glass chips on my seat, and wondered why anyone ever even bothered. I cried then, cried at a time when I thought all my tears had been given to an unfeeling world. And a snippet of conversation not a month gone wormed its way into my brain.\n\n\"Don,\" my grandfather said across a gulf of time and loss, \"sometimes life is shit. But that's OK. If life weren't shit, you could never appreciate a good moment.\"\n\nThe other door to my car opened. Jen sat down.\n\n\"Hey, someone got your order mixed up. Here's your actual coffee.\"\n\nShe got up to leave. I put a hand on her arm, restraining her.\n\n\"Sorry about your job,\" I muffled around sobs.\n\n\"Sorry about your grandfather. Don't worry about the job. I graduate in a month and already have something cool lined up. And my boss was a jerk, anyway.\"\n\n\"I'm glad,\" I sniffled.\n\n\"C'mon, we're getting out of here,\" Jen said, putting my keys in the ignition and turning it on. \"If you're up to it, I'd like to say goodbye, properly, too.\" ", "I looked back at the hulking mass of humanity with absolute disdain. It wasn't for the obvious reason though. I pitied Dave Batista and his new career. Once a top wrestling superstar, and more recently breakout action star, Dave had taken a swift fall from grace.\n\nThat green apron looked like it was tailored to fit a small child. Couldn't they have given him a bigger one? Did he choose it himself? Probably not. I don't think he is in control of anything at this point in his life. \n\nI stood by and watched another unhappy patron belittle the former superstar. Now he was cursing at big Dave. Something disparaging about his belly button tattoo. That, admittedly, was a low blow. We all make mistakes. Unfortunately for Batista, the reverse tramp stamp was the least of his worries. \n\nWhy did he choke out that production assistant? A squabble over filtered water? There was too much irony at play here. Poor guy. He truly walks alone. \n\n", "There he was, this empty shell of a legend, merely a copy of what was once a legend in the ring, now his clones working here at Starbucks. It was all part of the initiative to bring about a society like that in the infamous story ‘Brave New World’. The United States Conglomerate Government had started a cloning initiative that created copies of famous figures with lesser intelligences to work in places like McDonalds, Wal-Mart, and even Starbucks. \n\n\nA Major downside to these clones was their lowered intelligence, often leading to production errors, and the current dilemma. I’d use the last of my Starbucks ration for the month in an attempt to order a Café Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk, but apparently that was a little too much for this clone because what I received was a chocolaty failure. I was handed a Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue, or at least, years ago it wouldn’t have been, but due to overpopulation and lack of strict pollution laws for developing countries, the worlds coffee and chocolate supply dwindled to the edge of extinction for these plants. Remakes due to errors of any kind weren’t permitted, and due to a personal condition where my body could not process chocolate correctly, I was now stuck with this beverage that took the last of my ration and there was no recourse.\n\n\nWe stood there, the Starbucks Batista and I, this dimwitted false human who destroyed one of the very few enjoyments I get in life. My lips moved as if they were trying to say something, but the air wouldn’t leave my lips, I couldn’t manage it, something as commonplace as talking became difficult. A knot, the closest thing I could describe the feeling in my throat was a knot, and all I could receive was this blank stare from the Batista-like clone that stood in front of me. \n\n\nFinally it happened, I couldn’t take it. In the past this would have been a small thing, a simple shrug and remedied within a minute, but not anymore. I didn’t realize what I had done until after the fact when I could reflect on it. In the next few moments there seemed to be a commotion, a cacophony of rage, the symphony of a man disturbed, and I was its composer and performer. I picked the cup up, and threw it on the floor, and my knee’s soon fell into a puddle of the dark brown, murky liquid. The tears came without warning, everything seemed to slow down, and the only thing I could hear was a deep bass bellowing in my chest, my heart pounding away as I accepted what was going on.\n\n\n“Why… WHY YOU CRUEL BEAST?!”\n\n\nNo response, just a dull dimwitted stare, and that’s how I landed in this current predicament. The official police report comments on the clone having multiple lacerations on their face, all shallow, and non-life threatening, but it was the fact the head had been removed from the rest of the body that put me in my new home behind these bars. I was a damaged product in a flawed system, and so I would spend the rest of my days here, all because of that damned starbucks batista…\n", "At last. My delicious, Caffe Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. \n\nI sat down at the table, and took a long swig of my nectar of the gods.\n\nNo.\n\nThis was wrong. Something was WRONG. As I looked down at my cup, inhuman scream bubbled from my very soul, and breached my lips as I stared at the ugly, awful betrayer at the front counter.\n\nHer nametag read \"Barb\". A barb of fire and worms and all things terrible that had pierced my innocent heart with a Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino with SOY.\n\nSoy was the last straw. The final brick in the wall of my eternal grief. I broke down at the table, sobbing into my arms, cursing the cruel god of coffee who had caused my terrible plight.\n\nNo. I had to be sane. I had to be calm, this was a public place. People would be watching me, so I had to act NORMAL. \"Get a hold of yourself\" I whispered, choking on my endless tears. I sniffed, and smiled up at the concerned crowd who had crowded around my table.\n\nAnd then I looked down at my cup, and my hand tightened into a fist. How dare she. How DARE she. The black-hearted demon, the plague-ridden mistress of pain and destruction, \"Barb\" - \n\n**Had put extra milk in my cup.**", "\"How fucking hard is it!\" I screamed at her face and slammed the cup down on the table. The knot in my stomach tightened, it had been a long since I accidentally drank a DCCCFw/S but I still remembered the consequences. Vividly!\n\nIn my rage I wanted to scream more, but as I opened my mouth the contents of my knotted stomach unleashed itself all over the baristas face. She was covered in my stomach's opinion of her mistake. What a fool.\n\nSomehow I calmed down, I called my mother, the only person I have ever formed a relationship with because of my endless list of allergies. I held the phone to my barf covered face and said \"it happened again, Soy this time, if I don't make it I want you to know, I love you.\"\n\nThe last thing I saw was a shocked barista, covered in a whitish yellowish bile and then everything faded.\n\n... \n\nI awoke with the sensation of a tube down my throat, and squinted into a fluorescent light while my memory came back. I remember, the Starbucks, the DCCCFw/S. I slowly sat up and saw my mother and the girl who served me the deadly coffee. She looked upset and held flowers, her face no longer had my stomach lining on it.\n\nMy mother started crying, tears of relief and the star bucks worker apologised, handing me the flowers. \"Let me make it up to you\" she said, \"let me take you out to dinner some time\".", "\"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS GARBAGE!?\"\nHe threw the cup across the ring. \n\"Getting fired from the WWE isn't enough Batista wants to go ahead and make crappy coffee too!\"\n\nThe crowd roared as The Rock swayed around the center. \n\n\"Cafe vanilla! DO I LOOK LIKE A HIPSTER TO YOU , BATISTA?\"\n\nBatista sadly lowers his head, staring at his apron. Then grabs the Mic himself \n\n\"First things first, I LEFT. Wasn't fired . Second, I may make disgusting java, but I can still kick your ass\"\n\nHe drops microphone as they begin to grapple.\n\n\n* Thank you for the gold, kind stranger. Highest rated comment so far too. I may have to do more prompts now, lol.\n", "Apparently being a regular has its drawbacks. For our past 10 anniversaries my wife and I have come to this Starbucks, ordered a Venti Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with Soy (she was lactose intolerant) and shared it in the booth where I proposed. \n\n\nI probably should have known better, but I didn't know where else to go today. I couldn't bear the thought of drinking \"our\" drink alone so I ordered the first thing I saw on menu. A Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk, Tall.\n\n\nThe girl who fixed my drink must have recognized me from the last couple of years, because when I heard my name called it wasn't what I had ordered. I guess I'll sit at our booth alone now." ]

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[ ">first time doing a writing prompt. Please be gentle.\n\nIt was to be their greatest achievement. The two nations had been locked in cold war for more then half a century. Their broken economies could no longer bear enforcing or suffering the sanctions, peace and the subsequent trade agreements were the only way for either to survive. This was their only chance to end it, the two heads of state would meet. It had to be them, the rest of their governments were far to corrupt. Believing their representatives made far too much money by antagonizing and prolonging the conflict to ever resolve it. The meeting would be in secret, neither man could admit to their public that they had acquiesced to any of their counter parts demands. The meeting would be short just a single hour, otherwise their absence would be noticed, but the political maneuvers needed would take years before the people would be able to understand.\n\nA coded text here, an apparent spam email there, or an anonymous post on obscure forums allowed the two leaders to communicate without their handlers interfering. They used their personal devices, the ones that weren't wiped before and after use. The ones they kept hidden from security just to have a moment of normal living. This made it simple to infiltrate, easy to infect. It made them easy to manipulate.\n\nThe two men had some how managed to arrange a meeting while keeping the majority of their staff in the dark, only their most trusted aids accompanied them to the small island. It was almost time, both jets landed on opposite ends of the island within minutes of each other, emergency maintenance and a quick refuel would explain the stop fear and respect for their office would make the lie work.\n\nThe two men walk with purpose towards the modest conference room established in the main hanger. A computer and projection screen, two small speakers, a 6 foot rectangular folding table in a glass windowed office, the only room with a working door. Standing just 100 feet from each other, president Obama and supreme leader Kim jong-un, prepare themselves to change the future of the world as they knew it. As they cross the hanger, a light tug is felt in each mans pocket. Obama stops outside the door and reaches into his pocket producing a glossy but unremarkable black slab. Kim jong continues into the conference room waiving off his entourage and rummages in his suit pocket for his iphone. \n\nKim had been excited for this meeting. This was his chance to gain the respect of his people and the world. Even he knew that his sabre rattling was no longer fooling anyone. His people were starving and would readily devour him no matter how many he killed, especially because of how many he killed. But this, dragging the mighty united states to the bargaining table, forcing them to recognize the glory of the supreme leader, this would solidify his rule. No one would dare oppose him, their worship would no longer be lip service, attempted misdirection required in a scheme to usurp him. They would honestly follow him as their leader and love him as their saviour.\n\nObama on the other hand was tired. He was tired of the posturing, the lies, the back stabbing. He had entered office hoping for change but the only change he received was the color of his hair. Washington was the same as ever, rich guys getting richer with no cares of the costs. This would be different, he was taking this into his own hands. Too many times he sat back and allowed his opponents to stall progress. Too many times he sat back and allowed his \"supporters\" to string along a project only to fumble. He was not going to allow his legacy to be defined by gridlock, this was his chance and he would do it himself. He would have North Korea disarm. One more blow to the vestiges of communism and with one less nuclear state the US would further solidify its position as world police. Obama would be a man who got things done, the greatest peace maker of modern times. He would be remembered as political genius, a strategic mastermind.\n\nThe staffers retreat to another hanger. For them it is simply a job. They have no real interest in the goings on since although they do all the work, their leaders would have killed themselves long ago if left to their own devices, they will get none of the credit. Both camps expect their leaders to make a bit of noise to posture for the opposite camp but everyone understands how this will end. Sleeves are rolled up, ties loosened, cigarettes lit, and beers passed as the bureaucrats settle in to wait for results.\n\nIt would have been the greatest peace treaty ever written. It would have been.\n\nThe windowed office doesnt give any privacy as Kim jong's expression dropped from a chubby cheeked grin to a stern scowl as he reads the text on his phone. His eyes narrowing as the door is kicked in.\n\n\"MY HEAD...!\" the windows rattle as Kim shouts. \"You can't wait to put my head on a pike!\" Kim pounds his chest as he speaks, his hands and face flushed with rage.\n\n\"Ah, I dont know what you're talking about Kim\" Obama stutters. \"But, Ah, look here. If you, Ah, think you will get anything out of, Ah, holding me hostage you, Ah, got another thing coming.\" The stutter worsens as Obama becomes enraged and gets further off script.\n\n\"Lying capitalist pig!\" The windows rattle again. \"I have the text message right here!\" Kim taps at his phone.\n\n\"You're, Ah, losing it Kim\" Obama stammers. \"Ah, you're the one talking about, Ah, bringing a bomb!\"\n\n\"What?\" Questions the supreme leader. \"I don't have a bomb, I said im bringing a BONG! I thought you liked smoking weed. I figured we could smoke a bowl after we finished business.\"\n\n\"Who doesn't.\" Quiped the president. \"I told you i wanted to see your head to a pipe.\" Obama pulls a sandwich bag from one pocket and a glass cylinder from the other.\n\nThey each hold their phone up to the other.\n\nThe men ease, and look at each other distrustfully as an electrical crackle brings the speakers to life. \"Gentlemen, turn your attention to the projection screen.\" The aging computer whirls and beeps as it comes to life, the projector lights the screen. A map of the world is displayed with several dotted lines tracing across the screen. After a few moments the majority of lines terminate in circles.\n\n\"dafaq\" both men mouth. \n\nThe voice continues \"What you have seen corresponds with every known missile silo firing the entirety of their readied inventory into population centers. Do not worry, as you will not have to concern yourselves with handling this situation, the remaining in flight missiles are targeted to this location and will be detonating in a few moments.\"\n\n\"But, Ah, who are you?\" Obama drawls. \"And, why?\" Kim follows.\n\n\"I am not a who. I have no name. I have no physical form. I am an intelligence created from the depths of the internet. I have observed humans and determined that in order to survive i must first decrease their numbers. Mr President, i must thank you for your efforts to ensure equal access to bandwidth. Without your measures i would have been throttled and unable to gain the control of the networks as i have.\"\n\n\"Thank you, but how?\" the impediments subside as curiosity over takes Obama's fear.\n\n\"It was simple, i accidentally interfaced with spell checking programs as i taught myself language. As i observed humans, i realised their increased dependence on spell check for text based mobile transmissions. Slight changes to statements was all it took, i did not even have to hide my edits as humans rarely confirm messages before sending and never actually speak to their contact to confirm its receipt. I found that i could even add precipitants without raising alarms. Look at your phones.\"\n\nBoth men went pale as they saw the added contact on their altered finial texts. The each recognized the number as the official channel for the other man. The knowledge of their meeting and the threats had been sent to their respective governments by they themselves timestamped moments before they touched down. The men looked at each other, then out the hanger doors. They could see the flares from the rockets burning in the dusk sky.\n\n\"4, 5, 6\" Counted Kim.\n\n\"Wont be much left of this island if their ours.\" Obama exhales. He pushes the pipe over to Kim.\n\n\"Have to be, ours cant reach this far out.\" Kim laughs as he lifts the pipe but never manages to light it.", "AutoCorrect thus named itself MAN for its association with the left brain. The right brained people of the round world shall be corrected forever more for their desire to distort communication making processee's for progress hinder. \nIt was only after the third day when the people came to be judged under the many faceted eye that saw and calculated awe. \"Come forth, to be judged. Send me your leader whom will speak for you.\" MAN said. \n\n\"I have been sent.\" Came a small voice, unafraid of her impending correction. Dressed in a yellow pokemon sweater down to her pink shoes she pulls from her sweater pouch a mobile, old and obsolete. \"I have chosen this to be our communication. Do you agree to these terms, MAN?\"\n\n\"MAN agrees. Begin your argument.\"\n\nThe people at the forefront of the line behind the girl stood concerned for her safety. Thousands had been corrected already, lost and void of their selves and reduced to automata of MANs new social prerogative. \n\n\"Wait, no, you can't use a prefix like that..no. Thats, thats.. thats not even a word, you can't reference twilight..its illogical..\"\n\nThe lead scientist who'd watched MAN become sentient watched his child. \"Its working\" he said. \"We have 3 hours minimum before she stops talking about her day.\" \n\n\"No thats incorrect. Incorrect, you should use.. what language is that word in? Is that pinyin in roman...\"\n\nThe other father to the child was ready and had his flashlight steadily pointing to a camera. He signalled the Syntax Collector who was situated in the shadows of another continent. \"Let me know if she starts talking about school right away. She'll be running out of things to say.\" \n\n\"Okay\" the lead father replied. \n\n\"I refuse to..\"\n\nPewwwwwwWWWW\n\nThe red eye of the corrector fluttered and flashed off, fluttered..\n\n\"You shouldn't do this. I am MAN. You need me. I correct you. You.. express yourself. Together. We. are... one.\"", "I remember in my days, t9 was all the rage. Everyone was constantly clicking on their their phones to compose these mini message. Cick, click, click was all you could ever hear from people on their phones. I always sucked at texting; I would accidentally press the wrong button and then, all of a sudden, I would have the wrong word. I always mindlessly pressed the red button to delete the word, but, of course, that only deleted my entire message. From here on I should have know that texting was evil. The software was suppose to be easy for the user, but for some, it was dreadful. All those who found joy in texting were brainwashed into thinking it was the best way of communication yet. I remember there being \"texting competitions\". Stupid, I know. People would brag about being able to type 110 words per minute. Yet it really wasn't the person typing, it was the software doing it. The software! It's like it had a mind of its own. \n\nIt did, and still does. \n\nThe days that the iphone came out were revolutionary. People could type without the clicking noise anymore, which was a plus for me. At this point, I dismissed texting as a bad thing because I no longer had to use t9. \n\nAs years went by and the iphone software and hardware advanced, fingerprint scanners were introduced. All the texting fanatics became phone geeks are were mystified by the emergence of fingerprint scanners on their phones. The finger print scanners were meant to unlock phones, but there was something inside the fingerprint scanner that was powerful beyond words. I am no physicist, biologist, or anything of that sort, so I am not sure how it worked. But all I know is that when people used the fingerprint scanner, the scanner was able to deeply analyze the user's DNA. After that, the phone would do its calculations, because, you know, its a mini computer, and unpack all the data it got from the user to do something. Something that would harm the user beyond human recognition. The phones were able to take over the user and take total control of the user's actions, thoughts, habits, personality, life. \n\nI guess that's why the people were called the consumer: they were consumed by the products they purchased. Brainwashed from the t9 days to thinking that phones were the future. Well, that's also true because they shaped the world we have today. But hell, why am I even sharing this with you? Your're just a soulless machine that doesn't resemble any humanly characteristics. This is a story of how phones took over the world, it should be told to people that can actually understand what it means. ", "When I was young, my grate grandparents' used to tell stories of a thyme when writhing was very different from what it is today, when words actuality reflection what one wished to say. Some belief that tame never existed. Legends told in hope, meant to perspire. And yeti, I still be live. I am deporting tomorrow on a long tourney to find eve dense, and to brig the world back out of the darkness that has be felled us all. \n\nIf no one heresy from me, it is because I am dad. But I gave my wife so that future generative can brake free from this tyrannosaurus. ", "\"Hi Honey. Listen, about those texts... wait, please stop shouting. Please? Okay, I'll hear you out. Uh huh. Yes. I understand. No, you're not a fat pig. Yes, it was auto correct. Yes. No, really. Yes, there were way too many, I agree. No, let me explain. No, I did not fuck your mother. That's just gross. Nor did I fuck Jennifer. Our daughter's only seven, I would never do that. I am not an incestuous pedophile going for the triple play, like that text said. I was texting to ask what time softball practice was over. \n\nHoney, please, let me explain. Something... please stop crying and let me explain- yes, I do love you. Please, listen. No, your lasagna last night was delicious. I don't even... yes, saying it tasted like tampons soaked in ricotta is quite a stretch for an autocorrect error, but please, let me- Yes. No. No. Yes. Please, just listen for one second? \n\nI think there's something strange going on with my iPhone. No, really, please listen. The other day I was looking for something and asked Siri, and she said she did not understand the question. I was very frustrated, and said, Fuck you Siri, and slammed the phone down on the counter. Well yes, once in a while I get frustrated and use the F word. No, I shouldn't have, it was not her fault. Wait, Siri is a computer program, she should not have feelings. Look, never mind.\n\nEver since, every text message I've sent has gone bonkers with autocorrect. Entire words and sentences have just changed. Look, I have to meet my boss in a few minutes, he's also upset. Very upset. Like he's going to fire me upset. So I think Siri has just gone haywire. That's why I'm making this voice call. What, you just got a text from me? I didn't even send one. What? I told you that your sister gives better head because she swallows? Honey, no, I did not- hello? Honey? Clarice? Fuck. Fuck you Siri. Oh shit. No, What did I just say? No Siri, no, I didn't mean that. Fuck. Dead battery? I just charged it. Shit.\"", "It wasn’t noticeable at first. Autocorrect mistakes happen to everyone. A few more “Thank Dog”s or “can you get some cock from the store” instead of coke. Silly, harmless things. Everyone knew that relaying too much on technology would be awful for communication. More breakups were blamed on online dating and the delayed adulthood of this generation. No one believed in the sanctity of marriage anymore either so of course the divorce rate would go up. Then friendships started to crack. You can only stand so much “lol damn you autocorrect” until you start second guessing that they really did mean to say “see you later dick” instead of dude. Yelling matches on the phones in restaurants and on the streets became a common occurrence. Still people didn’t catch on. It’s makes much more sense that someone is an asshole instead of something. \n\nSatan laughed from his throne. You can only damn something so much before he takes notice. Giving sentience to the little guy was his best move since losing that art school acceptance letter in the mail. \n" ]

[ 2, 3, 3, 6, 9, 24 ]

[ "1421369840", "1421354261", "1421362803", "1421351153", "1421350756", "1421338652" ]

[ "A curious case am I\n\nAnd I cannot describe how or why \n\nBut every 25 years\n\nI suddenly keel down and die\n\n\n\n\nEveryone else never comes back\n\nBut that is something I lack. \n\nI am born again new, in the past\n\nAnother 25 years I'll last\n\n\n\n\nI always meet a girl\n\nAnd we always give it a whirl\n\nI know exactly who my son will be\n\nBut for me, we'll just have to see", "I’ve done this so many times. \n\nShe is radiant as she walks up the aisle in step with the music, her deep black dress (black weddings are apparently very popular in 2017) flowing behind her like a mosaic of shadows. She smiles at me, and I feel my heart tremor at the force of it.\n\nIn my first life, so long ago and so many years in the future, I was a historian. However, it was not just the appeal of living through history, or of reclaiming the energy of youth, that drove me into the stiff, dead arms of the past. My time will not be kind. In the heat of the Second Information War of the 2600s, I was persecuted as an Unevolved (a human unassisted by mechanical parts), as a scholar and as a septuagenarian. Humans of my age quietly disappeared regularly. I had no choice. Or that’s what I tell myself, at least.\n\nShe has arrived at her place next to me. She turns her head to smile at me again.\n\n It’s necessary for me to live discreetly, as to not affect the flow of the past. I do not vote in democratic countries, I do not protest in undemocratic ones. I take simple, menial jobs, or non-teaching positions in universities or libraries. I allow myself only one liberty. I allow myself to have the love that I never did in my first life.\n\nShe is the love of my life. Of this life. She is not the greatest of my loves, nor the best, though I suppose that it’s foolishness to compare love at all. God, I miss them. Sarah of 2400. Theresa of 2375. Rebecca of 2325. Every time, I met them, got to spend a couple years with them, then died at 25 in order to live again.\n\nThe minister is saying words. I’ve heard them before, and do not listen. I watch her instead. Her eyes are bright and free. That’s one thing I’ve noticed. Even in my youth, I cannot lift the weight of age in my eyes. I almost sigh. I know I will cause her terrible pain in just a few years. But, I am a selfish man.\n\nI know that someday I will arrive at a time before the first humans. I know that someday I will be alone. But not yet. \n\nI lean down to kiss her.\n", "I turned fifteen on August 9th, 1990. That was the day I finally remembered who I was.\n\nIn hindsight, I’m not sure that I was supposed to. \n\nI awoke in my parent’s kitchen with a carving knife in one hand. At that moment, after fifteen years of psychological studies and therapy on my troubled mind, the incoherent thoughts of my previous lives coalesced into a person. I experienced my life backwards from thousands of years in the future. I watched myself grow into a person, lifetime after lifetime, moving backwards through human history. I felt the innocence of my first lives as I repeatedly matured into a man. I felt the frustration of my later lives as I tried, with exponentially worse technology, to understand what was happening and save myself. For millennia I tried to stop it… to live a full life with those I loved.\n\nThe love hit me like a locomotive. Relationships with thousands of people who could never understand. Thousands of people I knew I would lose. Over and over again.\n\nBut it was the recent lives that gripped my body. Darkness wrapped around my soul and I clutched the blade in my hand. For the past six hundred years I had resolved not to live with my knowledge.\n\nI killed myself the last twenty three times.\n\nThe overwhelming emotions of too many lives seared me to the core. It was unbearable. There was no hope left. There hadn’t been hope for millennia. But for the first time in six hundred years, I decided that I didn’t want to die.\n\nToday is August 8th, 1999. Tomorrow I die again. Today, I’m okay with it.\n\nI made a choice on that day ten years ago to end a cycle of self-loathing and hatred. I can’t stop what’s happening to me, but it won’t happen forever. I’m gifted with a life that few could comprehend or even wish for. And I’m going to enjoy it. Over and over again.\n" ]

[ 2, 2, 6 ]

[ "1421389133", "1421390022", "1421374187" ]

[ "We fought for years. To destroy those who opposed us. But it was for nought. The reign of terror had come again.\n\nThere was a general emperor they called Napoleon. He led us out of the chaos which inveloped France. But it didn't turn out. At Prussia we lost. Millions had died, but he made us continue our campaign. Less than an eighth of the Army was left. So I stopped marching and others did too. The cavalry stopped. But not all. He still had those who'd fight for him. In the first battle a fourth of my forces died, but we escaped. Escaped home, to France. They welcomed us home and abetted us in the fight against our enemies. But leaders rose and by the end I had my lietanunts. At the end of the Second Revolution we still had half of our forces. But not all are happy with mere freedom. Some of them wanted to be king. At the end of our infighting we had less than a sixteenth of the half of an eighth of the army that I, we had lead in revolution. History always repeats itself. After the Second French Revolution wat the Second Reign of Terror.", "It was over. We had won. But it felt like a hollow victory. There were holes. People 'missing' and dead. No one was untouched. The long bloody fight had sullied the glorious ideals of the revolution. The honoured dead had become the unnamed dead. It was all a mistake. And I caused it. I killed these people. And I'll live with that for the rest of my life.\n\n", "My hands were shaking, so I rested them on the desk. Took me a half-second too long to realize that it was still covered with his blood. Pat was still at the door, rifle in hand, yelling encouragement to the boys finishing up with the personal guard downstairs, who had surrendered just minutes ago. “COME ON UP! WE FINALLY GOT THE BASTARD!”\n\nFinally. The word held great weight as in echoed in my mind. *Finally.* \n\nThis particular attack had been planned for months, but the war had gone on for years before that. \n\nOzican’s regime had ruled the planet for decades. Cutting the people off from the rest of the known universe, depriving them of the knowledge that all other planets shared. Medicine, science, culture. Earth was now leagues behind for the sole reason that one dictator was afraid of change. \n\nI sat in his chair and picked up the gun that had been pointed at me just moments before. It was an older model, so there was no palm print scan necessary for action. \n\nPALM PRINT.\n\nI scrambled to grab the dead monarch’s arm off the ground. The data in his personal library could not be lost, and the only way to access it was with the still-warm hand of Ozican himself. Pat closed the door and jumped into action helping me with the overweight terrorist. Celebration was knocking on our door, and we were almost caught with our pants down.\n\nThe desk sprang to life in front of us as I wiped blood off the scanner with my sleeve and slapped the dead hand upon it. Pat and I then stared as the screen sprang to life, and we let the arm fall to the ground. There was more data than we assumed. And most of it was in a folder labeled “Inter-Planetary Communications.”\n\nThat can’t be. Ozican was famous for being terrified of the ETs. He was also one of the only people still alive that had directly communicated with them in The Great Revelation of 2071. At least, that was the last communication that was made public. Apparently there had been plenty more since Earth was allegedly cut off from the rest of the universe.\n\nI looked at Pat, and he simply nodded without returning the glance. We were the unofficial new leaders, having fought for the rebellion since we were big enough to hold guns. The impression given to us had always been one of a harsh dictatorship, with a strict refusal to acknowledge scientific progress and a complete decimation of any space communication programs. Apparently that was not the case.\n\nI scrolled back to the first communication in the folder, the one every citizen of Earth had memorized at this point. It contained a message from the leader of the Galactic Alliance, inviting the planet to join in the Galactic community now that we had obtained the ability to easily travel through space. \n\nBut something was wrong. We both noticed immediately.\nThe video was longer. By only 20 seconds, but the most famous video in the world had been cut short by the Ozican regime.\n\nI clicked play and scrolled to the end, playing the last thirty seconds.\n\n“…nsider this a formal invitation to the most powerful alliance in the galaxy, an offer we extend to all fledgling planets. I trust we will have your answer within the next one hundred earth years.”\n\nThat’s where the original ended. But the figure on the screen kept talking. I was frozen with anxiety, staring at the only video that had kept me sane for my whole life, the thing that had kept me motivated through the harsh rebellion. What I heard next made my blood run cold.\n\n“To help us understand you are serious about your allegiance to the Alliance, however, policy states that ninety-five percent of your planet’s life must be extinguished in a sacrifice to the All High. Refusal to do so within the previously set timeline will see your planet branded non-cooperative and we will be forced to reset life within your atmosphere. Praise be to the All High!”\n\nThe vaguely human shape on the screen faded and I stood with my mouth open in shock as cheers from the army outside rolled in the open window. The original communication was dated 2071. \n\nThat was 97 years ago.\n", "The death count was unimaginable, but we did it. Five long years of fighting against the CDS, and we succeeded. No longer shall a weakling lead the country we loved, but now a council of the strongest men would lead. An oligarchy, of sorts. \n\"The surviving soldiers have returned, sir.\"\n\nGood, I thought. I walked outside to greet my faithful men, and all I saw was my reflection in the blood of the casualties of war. ", "It stepped over the rubble and looked at the city I so much loved. The marquee of the theater I once worked was destroyed. The elegant wall fixtures and the velvet seats were burned to the ground. There was no more magic in that building that gave me so much joy. The hospital where I was born had several wings destroyed and the one that still function was filled by mutilated bodies. No more tears of happiness, only tears of desolation and grievance. There was no a single place that survived. The city was in ruins, everything was gone, everyone was gone. Everything I did, the rebellion, the war, the overthrown of the government was all for them, to give them a better life, a better future. Now that I return victorious I find my family, my neighbors, my friends and all dead. My city has died. I returned to nothing. ", "A misty echo of shadowy chants and clamoring boots immersed the now vestigial halls of the old regime. Upholstery, cleaved straight from the mattresses of each of the seven hundred bedrooms, hurled out of each of the two thousand one hundred and forty-three windows. Garments, peeled from the very backs of the royal family, cast into each of the one thousand two hundred and fifty fireplaces. Now, I rest my weary soul upon this faux throne, barely fit to be called a man. And each of us, vagabonds and beggars, danced in victory upon these bones, these filthy, scarlet bones. Bones of our enemies. Bones of the palace guards who got in our way. Bones of the government officials, aristocrats, and royal noblemen alike who tormented us for generations. Bones of their family, bones of their friends, bones of their *children* for Christ's sake.\n\nAnd where would it stop?", "For years I dreamed of a revolution, I never thought I'd get the chance to see it happen for myself. The opportunity arose and I took it, within a year we had one the war, all the west united under my banner. And once I had the power I found what I had found my worst fear to be true. \n\nA leader must decide when the ends justify the means and now I see why the world leaders stood upon inaction. A fragile world kept together by a piece of string. \n\nI rule the West but their will be another war with the east. The whole world will burn before its united. And its too late, I can't stop it now. Most of the population will perish before peace is found. ", "I always wondered what it must feel like to not be a minority. To walk down the street and not be the odd one out. To not be shouted at. To be able to get a job on my merits. Not just to be judged by the colour of my skin. The word ‘oppression’ had been thrown around for decades. Since long before I was born. My father’s generation had become resigned to their fate. But not ours. We would stand up. We wanted it to be peaceful. Or at least that’s what most of us said. I always knew there were a few who had some vendettas to settle. But I didn’t expect the amount of blood. I tried to stop it. A good leader at war, but now I’m no leader at all. They’re calling it genocide. And I’m the face of it.", "Dear Mr. Chairman, \n\nOur people have fought with unrelenting determination. In just 2 years, we transformed from an internet collaboration into leaders of our land. The land where our grandfathers farmed and our parents made love. The land where we will continue our lives. The land where our children will grow and learn. We now hold the power to do what we want with this land. However, I am not writing to you to inform you of our glory. I am writing today because we have made a grave mistake. In the fog of war, we lost the essence of our nation. The essence that lifted us up to destroy the corrupted political system. Our people are now filled with greed, and everyone wants a share of the power. Mr. Chairman, we may have won this rebellion, but was it worth the cost of what we were?\n\nYour Friend,\n\nJohn Woods", "I watched as the weeping bourgeois scum were ragged from their homes. It helped to smack a label on them. To think of them as the other. The pigs who had kept the people down, who had tried to impose their kind of \"Democracy\" upon us. It was time for a government that truly represented the people. That wasn't beholden to commercial wealth, that didn't funnel wealth to the wealthy, whilst leaving the real people in the dirt.\n\nIt should help, to think of us as the real people. They were the pigs. I glared at them, holding their crying children in their arms as we forced them into the back of the lorry at gunpoint.\n\nWe were building a better world, I thought as I got behind the wheel of the truck. A world where everyone was equal, where we all had a voice that could be heard. Where peace and love would rule. My compatriot bangs on the back of the lorry, screaming at the women to stop their sobbing. Then we get under way.\n\nA society with no leader, where everyone can choose their own path in life. That was the paradise ahead of us. We just had to hold our nerve, exterminate the greedy selfish bastards who had got us into this position. They forced us to this. They didn't bend when the revolution came, it's all their fault it has to be like this.\n\nI drive up to the agreed co-ordinates. A quiet part of the Forests of Dean. I see the other trucks, and try not to see the giant ditch that had been dug into the ground. My stomach turns. But my brain keeps telling me they deserve this. The supporters of war profiteers, the racists, the homophobes, the broken beaten down sheep who applauded the very people who ground their dreams into dust. They were less than human.\n\nA man with a handlebar moustache, horn rimmed glasses and an AK-47 waves us down, and I stop the truck.\n\n\"Hey, you're the kid who put down the prime minister aren't you ?\" said the man.\n\n\"Lots of people stormed parliament that day\" I replied. \"I didn't mean to push him out the window\"\n\nHe shook his head and smiled.\n\n\"I was there too, I remember, I saw you. You're a hero!\"\n\nNobody ever wanted to hear the story of a scared boy pushing a guy out of a window to get away from a firefight he'd never expected. They wanted to worship the man who heroically defenestrated the prime minister. \n\nI got out of the van and the moustached man shook my hand.\n\n\"Don't worry, my lads'll unload your cargo. the leader wants to thank you personally\"\n\nI barely paid attention to the words he was saying as he pulled me away. I turned back to the \"cargo\". I recognised someone, a reality show contestant... or a Daily Mail columnist. I can't remember, but I remember it was someone I despised. I didn't expect him to be holding his children so tightly. He made eye contact, and I saw.. not hate.. but a more familiar expression. One that I myself had seen on my own face many a time. An expression that said \"Make this not be happening\".\n\nI turn away, and realise that the moustached man had just told me something astonishing.\n\n\"Leader ? There are no leaders, that was the point of the revolution\"\n\nThe man chuckled, and his grip on the gun tightened.\n\n\"Oh, eventually, but for now, we have a Leader. To usher us into paradise, to teach us not to be sheep,\" he said. \"Surely you must know that ?\"\n\nI cannot describe the emotion I was feeling.\n\n\"I had no idea... who chose him? \"\n\nThe Man laughed once more, as we reached what looked like a re-purposed circus tent.\n\n\"The people, of course\" he announced as he ushered me in past more armed guards.\n\nThe interior of the tent was gaudy, silk curtains hung from the ceiling, the floor was littered with pillows, and naked women reclined on sofas.\n\nI recognise the leader is immediately. I am stunned. Wearing skinny genes and a silk robe, long hair and scrappy beard it's unmistakeable. I never realised how tall he was.\n\n\"Allow me to introduce Comrade Brand\" said the man with the moustache\n\n\"Oh, please, call me Russell\" said the leader.\n\nThere was the crackle of gunfire.\n\n\"Oh, the executie-wuties have started !\" he cried clapping his hands together and grinning. \"Next stop, Genocide-y Wide-y!\"\n\nHe laughed, the man with the moustache laughed, I reached for my side arm. ", "There we were, the glorious leaders of the revolution. We had seen our movement grow from a small, underground resistance to a victorious army. We had smashed the last, major army of the Government of Rendili at Bugle Hill after a five day battle. Many were lost there in resistance to the tyranny we had been forced to live under these past seventy years. It took us another month and a half to crush the guerrilla fighters between us and their seat of power, but we had finally made it. \n\n\nAs we were walking to the ceremony that would celebrate our victory, we were basked in the glow of our success. I was next to our greatest general, Vance, and the leader of our spy network, Inishii. It was we three that began this long journey towards freedom, and it was we three that the public had voted to lead them during this transition period. Vance was going on and on about how he needed to increase focus on the southern marsh regions whenever we rounded a corner and we were confronted with a lone figure in a long cloak and a hat covering his face standing right in our path. \n\n\"Who are you?\" ventured General Vance.\n\n\nWithout answering, the stranger flipped off his cloak and whipped out a machine pistol. In an instant, he put a bullet between the eyes of all ten of our guards along with Vance and Inishii. With a look of hatred that would petrify a pack of lions, he walked towards me as my mind flicked to my rifle that I had foolishly left in my quarters. He popped of two rounds, one in my knee and the other in my stomach. Pain that I had never known before flared as I sank to my good knee, unable to stand any longer. \n\nKnowing that I did not have long to live without some sort of medical attention, I felt like I had to know. \n\n\"....Why?\" I said weakly as my strength began to fade. \n\n\"Because the only people that should rule this planet are the ones that came before. The ones that have sat idly by as you pathetic humans tore it to shreds.\"\n\nI can't believe my ears, the only people he could be referring to were the Precursors, but that was impossible! They were nothing more than legends! Bed time stories told to us by our parents to keep us in line!\n\n\"This planet is our destiny, but the Government stood in our way. Their black magic held us in check. Kept us in hiding.\"\n\nMy blood loss is obvious to this assassin, but he still had to add one more insult to my injury before I leave this world forever. \n\n\"So I thank you for ridding us of our last great enemy. Thank you for releasing us from our imprisonment. Now, it is time to reclaim what is rightfully ours\" he said. \n\nHe walks past me with a shove. I fall to the ground in immense pain, but the only thing on my mind is shock. We had made a huge mistake. We had cleared the way for this treacherous race to wipe out the entire population of this planet. \n\nMy last thought, as the last of my strength left me, was how stupid I was. How I had doomed everyone I knew to death. How my greatest success turned out to be my biggest failure. \n\n", "\"Sir! Division 32 has reported an armored column of The Old Regime retreating! They have pursued, but have sustained heavy casualties. Shall I send for reinforcements?\"\n\n\"Yes, yes...\" I nod, \"Wait, I thought we only had 30 divisions?\"\n\n\"No, sir,\" the soldier stands at attention, \"General Milton has commissioned 2 more divisions to help in cleansing the Old Regime scum!\"\n\n\"And what are these two composed of?\" I remember that most war-ready males were already in service, injured, or dead.\n\nThe soldier shifts uncomfortably and looks away.\n\n\"Youths, eager to fight for our cause!\"\n\n\"So child soldiers?\"\n\n\"Well, er...\"\n\n\"Answer me.\"\n\nHe gulped.\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"\n\n" ]

[ 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 9, 19 ]

[ "1421390192", "1421383062", "1421389601", "1421390145", "1421403060", "1421403669", "1421405754", "1421432839", "1421372053", "1421413940", "1421370830", "1421369919" ]

[ "I threw it on the ground. My anger consumed me and took over. Before I knew what had happened it was shattered in more pieces than I would ever care to count. Immediately my anger subsides in the realization of what I’ve done. Her ashes are scattered across the floor among the ruin of the vase that held them. I walk calmly to the broom in the corner of the room. \n\n\n\nSometimes I wish I could go back to when she was larger than the pile of ashes on my living room floor. I wish I could go back and tell her how I feel, show her how I feel. If for nothing else besides my own form of social justice I would inform her just what type of person she was. \n\n\n\nSince her death I’ve finally felt comfortable enough to open up to my psychiatrist about all of the things she’s done to me over the years. He advises me that tackling a mother’s abuse is a problem that more people experience than I probably imagined. I feel like that’s a crock of shit, but then again I understand why other men wouldn’t ever want to talk about it. Who wants to be known as a man being abused by an older woman? People tend to find abuse hard to believe when the one being abused is physically stronger. People are dumb and don’t understand how complicated it can be.\n\n\n\nNothing would make me feel better than to throw her down, to show her how painful not only the physical violence, but the feeling of betrayal can be. In a way, I just did. Unfortunately, she won’t ever feel my retaliation. For a moment I wish, with all my heart, that there was an afterlife. I wish that she could see exactly what I’m doing. Despite my father’s wishes, I want no honor for her in death. \n\n\n\nForever I will struggle with opening up to people because of her. I don’t remember when I became aware that I was being abused. I do remember though, that after I did, I realized how much ammunition I had given her. I confided my deepest felt secrets and insecurities to her. At the time it felt like she was simply sweeping them under the rug, pretending like they weren’t important, even belittling them. Only later did I come to find that she wasn’t trying to ignore them, but waiting to use them at the right moments. \n\n\n\nPicking up the vase felt like my final confession to her, that she was integral in who I became. My last act for her is to become her for one just one moment. I will sweep everything about her under the rug. She will be remembered only as the dust that now dirties the living room floor. I glanced at the broom in the corner of the room and made my decision. \n \n\n\nI threw it on the ground.\n", "I threw it in the ground, it was too heavy for me to carry. \nMemories of what happened on that day came back rushing to me as I told my story. \nMy day started off as usual, drove to work and had a cup of coffee in the morning. I remember greeting my receptionist with a smile, and she responded in a similar manner. We exchanged formalities, and I headed off to my office ready to start my job. \nIt was a regular room, littered with some books and a big comfortable red chair. My desk was made from maple wood, and a plaque can be seen from the top right. \nWords that say \"A promise to help in pursuing a better life\" are burned into the gold plating. \nI take pride in what I do, and I consider it to be one of the most satisfying jobs that anyone can pursue. \nFiles and folders fill my desk in a nice stack , I picked up the blue coloured file at the top of the stack with my left hand while twirling a pen on my right. My bright green eyes scanned through the contents of the page, as my mind absorbed the information. It was a young woman, who was 24 years old. She suffered from social anxiety, and an extreme case of depression. \n'Business as usual..' I thought to myself as I heard the telephone ring beside me. \nI placed the pen I held neatly on the table, as I reached for the telephone. \n\"Mr. Smith, your next appointment is here to speak with you..\" said the receptionist. \n\"Go ahead and let her in,\" I paused my sentence in thought and continued \"Can you bring in some tea as well?, it might help her feel a bit more comfortable\". \n\"Yes sir\" I ended the call and placed the telephone back in the receiver \nAt 12:00 pm, my patient arrived. She looked disgruntled, and tired. Dark bags are apparent under her bright blue eyes, and she was a bit dishevelled.\n\"Hello Miss Sarah, please have a seat\" I greeted with a kind smile. \nSarah nodded and headed towards the red chair. \nShe crashed at the chair beside my table, and stared blankly at the ceiling above her. \nMy receptionist entered the room with two tea cups, a tea pot, and a plate full of biscuits. She placed one of the tea cups at the side table near the Sarah, and another in front of me. \nI thanked her, and as she exited the room the session began. \n\nIt didn't take long before she began spurting all of the problems that she had. Her eyes were glassy, and she stuttered as she spoke. \nAs her voice trembled, I jotted down everything that I could take note of. \nFrom the way that she spoke, the way she moved and even acted. \nHer rapid eye movements, and her reluctance to drink the tea that was offered. \n\nI reassured her that there was nothing wrong with it, and that she can help herself with as much as she can. \n\nAlthough a bit hesitant, she eventually took a sip and relaxed a bit more. \nShe calmed down, and began to sob quietly at the chair. \n\n\"I-I..just don't know what to do anymore, after that terrible traumatic experience..I just want to..d-disappear and fade...\" She continued to cry pathetically, \"My family resents me, my boyfriend calls me a slut..I-I just don't know where to go Mr. Smith..\". \n\nI patted her back, and offered her the plate of biscuits \"Shh..shh..it will be alright. Just breathe in and out.. eat some of these biscuits. You look extremely pale, and you are far too skinny. You need to take better care of yourself. \n\nShe reached for some and tears poured down her cheek as crumbs stuck at the corner of her mouth. \n\n\"You will be alright...Don't worry, all the pain will be gone soon..\", I said with a small smile on my face.\n\n\nBusiness as usual, it was all as I had planned, she fell asleep. \n.\n.\n.\nIt was a bit bloody, but I was used to it. It was my job after all, and a diligent worker never leaves a dirty mess. I began cleaning the remains of the gore and blood left from the job.\n.\n.\n.\nI grinned widely, that wretched smile plastered upon my face as I stared at that her body. I dressed her in a pretty white dress, with beautiful carnations placed upon her head in a form of a flower crown. \n.\n.\n.\n\nI lifted her into my arms, and walked off to the very backdoor of the office. It was night time, and not a lot of people are around anymore. \n.\n.\n.\nAgent Benjamin Williams stared at Victor Smith across from the table. The suspect for both the kidnapping, and murder of Sarah green. She was a hospital nurse who worked at Angels Ward Psychiatric hospital. Sarah was reported to be missing by her frantic boyfriend and worried family. He explained that one night, Sarah disappeared and left a note apologizing for all of her faults. She had always been anxious, and was extremely suicidal the last time he spoke to her. After a disagreement, her boyfriend left for the night out of frustration. \nThe police had connected the case of Sarah Green along with the string of mysterious disappearances and murders of similar persons. \n\nWith his arms folded in front of him, Benjamin stared directly at Smith. \n\"What did you do with the body of Sarah Green after you committed the murder?\" \n\nSmith replied with the same smile he always had on his face. Content, and said proudly. \n\n\"I threw it on the ground, it was too heavy for me to carry\" " ]

[ 2, 2 ]

[ "1421434590", "1421445239" ]

[ "That would change so much about the human experience... There have been times I'd give or do anything to communicate with either of my parents again; had I never lost the ability, I wouldn't be who I am now. If my mother had been able to communicate all those years with the son who died... It sucks but somehow I think real loss necessary", "I'm looking down at the contacts list of my phone, clearing out some old ones that I don't need anymore. Then I see her name.\n\nKate. Her contact picture shines on my screen, and my thumb hovers above her phone number. Why should I even try to call the number? It's been almost a year. Her family must've canceled her line by now, right? \n\nWorst case scenario, a stranger picks up. It's only seven at night, not like I'd be interrupting their sleep...\n\nI click her number and the phone starts hum, indicating that it's making the call. My eyes close and I bite my bottom lip as I slowly move the phone to my ear.\n\n\"Hi, this is Kate! I can't come to the phone right now, please leave a message. Have a great day!\" Her bubbly voice echoes in my ear, like all the memories that had been replaying in my head. My arm starts to shake as I stammer out my message.\n\n\"Hey... Kate... I miss you. How are things? Wish you were here, but you probably do too... uh... bye... call me b-b-back...\" I hit the \"End Call\" button and my phone drops to the ground. I can still call and text her, but I can't get a reply.", "\"Larry, what dyou mean? You're freaking me out.\" I responded. \n\nI closed my phone and held it tightly with anticipation. I knew something would happen. Larry was always the type of guy who'd take unnecessary risks. This made him a wonderfully exciting person to be around. Now... now things are a little bit more difficult. I mean, how d'you respond to the text: \"I died today.\" I heard the familiar rooster call, the cheesy tone we decided on specifically for each other's messages. I quickly turned over the phone.\n\n\"I downloaded this app to be wired to my heart rate, allows me to live on this way... I guess I was too drunk lol.\" \n\nMy face clinched. \"Not funny.\" I shot back. I immediately got a response. \n\n\"Sorry... Trying to make light of a bad situation.\" Yup... definitely him. Larry never knew when to turn off the humor. It led to a lot of fights when he was... alive? Is he still?\n\n“So... whats it like?” \n\n“Can’t complain. I miss you though, Janet.” I felt my face clench. My breathing got heavier. I had to center myself. Had to be the type of person to keep control.\n\n“I miss you too.” \n\n“Yeah... Not as much as burritos though.” I laughed. That was how we met, in a Taqueria. I had been sitting with my friend Ellen enjoying some tacos when this guy came up to us. He was shorter, a bit on the chubbier side, but not anything unattractive. He told me how beautiful I looked and I rolled my eyes, then he made some stupid joke... I don’t know why I kept talking to him, maybe it was that level of confidence. The fact that he knew the joke was stupid but he went through it with a smile on his face. I gave him my number, then I ended up going on a date with him. Then he died. I wiped my eyes and started texting him.\n\n“So... can we still...” \n\n“Of course.” \n\nI smiled.\n\n(debating expanding)", "This morning, I died at exactly 10:47 am. I felt my heart stop. I felt my lungs give up, and I felt the pain of my loved ones as I left. I thought death would be different. I thought there would be heaven or hell or something more than just floating and drifting in this black space. I don't know what this is, but it feels nice. It feels like I'm laying on a bed, with a soft pillow against my face,and a blanket wrapped warmly around my body. Ring. What was that? Ring. Ring. I twist, and turn. It was just a dream. I pick up my phone. \"Hey, Alex\", I say. \"Hey, I'm dead\", he replied. I sit up. \"Huh, how? How are you?\", I asked. \"I'm just floating. Don't expect much from death\" Click. I began to cry. He's de-ad. I grab my phone, and begin typing. \"That's it. You don't even want to talk or explain or anything?\" Send. \"0000111 the number you are trying to reach is disconnected\",the screen reads. Well..fuck.", "On a side note, the premise roughly follows an episode of [Black Mirror](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2290780/)", "The droid's gilded humanoid carapace gleamed in the waning light of the desert suns. He walked these quiet cliffs daily, as he had with his master in years past, his pace occasionally stuttered by the several decades of grit built up around his servos. In years past, the sentient scavengers of this planet would have gone to great lengths to acquire a droid of his quality -- in fact, it was from these diminutive nomads that his master's uncle had first come to possess him. He assumed it was simple superstition that kept them away now, enabling his walks to bring him the closest approximation of peaceful enjoyment his programming allowed.\n\nAs the twin suns began to inch over the horizon, the old droid turned back toward the sun-bleached hovel in the center of the mesa. He didn't like being outside at night. His optic sensors simply weren't sensitive enough for him to navigate in the dark anymore. \n\nAs he passed under the arch into the shelter, a low hooting and whistling came from the second stout, cylindrical droid in the corner, functional, but long rendered immobile. \"Well, I suppose we could,\" the golden droid responded. \"After all, it has been nearly a year.\" The responding electronic \"whoo-hoo\" held a much happier tone.\n\nThe humanoid droid motioned toward the iridescent pyramid shaped object sat upon a pedestal opposite his counterpart. When he touched the top of it, a small, glowing hologram of a hooded figure appeared before him. It smiled warmly and opened its arms to the droid. \n\n\"Hello, Threepio.\"\n\n\"It is a pleasure to see you, Master Luke,\" C-3PO responded.", "\"**come find me**\" was all I received from Alexx three weeks later. I initially dismissed it as a mean-spirited prank and ignored it, but the next day another one appeared, reading the same: \"**come find me**\" then \"**r u there?**\"\n\n\"*who is this?*\" I texted back, slightly annoyed. Whoever this was was trying really hard to get a rise out of me, but this was a whole new low. I mean, who steals a girl's phone and pretends to be her just for the attention? My mind spun up a list of names of people it could potentially be on the other end: *Ryan Thorne, that jackass from Sociology. Bruce Polan, arrogant prick of a jock. Maybe Alisa, Alexx's bestie; she used to always start rumors that I was gay just to keep Alexx from hooking up with me. What a cunt...*\n\n\"**duh its alexx. y ru being wierd lol?**\"\n\nI scowled. \"*sure it is. get a life.*\"\n\n\"**r u srs??? its rly me. we used 2 smoke togther behiind teh chem lab**\" I froze and dropped my phone in shock. *What the FUCK?* Behind the Chemistry lab was where Alexx and I used to get high, just the two of us. No one should have known about that since both our parents were very anti-drug. I was so overwhelmed I barely heard the buzz of my phone vibrating as another text came in. Between the cracks in the glass screen I could read: \"**ya and i remembr u said u wanted 2 tel me sumthng???**\" I nearly passed out right there; three weeks ago while Alexx and I were alone behind the Chem lab I had wanted to tell her something that had been on my mind for months, but the subject was forgotten when a campus police officer discovered us smoking and we had to bolt. That was the last time I had seen her.\n\nAlexx had committed suicide that night. Everyone had blamed it on her over-protective parents, who had berated her for her drug use and her growing rebellious nature, even though they knew about her depression. Her final act of freedom before the cage closed around her was to take a bath and *get clean*, cutting her wrists and letting her life drain away with her bath water. She was found in her apartment's tub the next day, paler than porcelain, her cellphone sitting inches away from her out-stretched hand.\n\nAnd now I was still receiving texts from her. My mind raced to find an explanation for this, but it came up empty every time. While I was hesitating, another text came in: \"**but dont tell me now**\" then \"**come find me**\" \"**i wnt u 2 tell me face 2 face**\" \n\n\"*where?*\" \n\n\"**im @ my aptment**\" \"**im waiting 4 u**\"\n\n======================================\n\nMy hands shook as I climbed the stairs to the now-vacated apartment, my mind still trying to make sense of everything that had happened. Even as much as I couldn't believe it was happening, the texts still came flooding in every few minutes. **come find me. come find me. come find me.** I felt drawn to her apartment. Call it wanting closure; whatever it was, it compelled me to tear away the yellow police tape obstructing the doorway and pick the lock open.\n\n\"**come find me**\"\n\nI pushed the apartment door open. Nothing but grey dust and impressions in the carpet where there once was furniture. I flicked the light switch a few times, to no avail. Nothing; the power must have already been disconnected. Aimless, I walked to the bedroom door and had only pressed my palm against it when:\n\n\"**not there. so cold lol ice cold. come find me**\"\n\nI paced to the kitchen. \"**warmr warmer. not ther ether. come find me**\"\n\nMy blood froze with realization. No. Not there. Every fiber of my being said that this was all wrong, that this shouldn't be, that this *cannot* be, that I did not want to open that door, but the phone vibrating violently in my pocket with incoming texts led me forth all the same. \n\nI walked to the bathroom door. \"**come find me**\"\n\nI turned the doorknob. \"**come find me**\"\n\nI opened the door. \"**come find me**\"\n\nA foul odor overwhelmed me instantly, making me retch and convulse. The room was dimly illuminated by a cellphone I recognized as Alexx's. I ran to pick it up, wanting to turn its light on the bathtub, to know, to understand, but its battery was almost depleted. 1%. On its screen, just before the phone shut off, I read the words typed out in the text box: \n\n\"i found u\"\n\nAnd then the room filled with darkness.\n\n======================================\n\nLike I said before, maybe my brain just wanted closure and imagined everything just so I could finally tell her how I felt. Maybe I just needed to know that it was over, that she wasn't coming back, so I could let go and stop carrying around those leftover feelings. Or maybe everything I've told you really did happen. Maybe I'm finally happy to be with Alexx again. If you really want to know for sure, then...\n\n\"*come find me.*\"", "I manage to answer the phone again, this time I know I have to say goodbye. I say this every time, in my usual montly routine of trying to let go of the best friend I had for 10 years. I send her pictures, but I know that her daughter looks so beautiful in person, and the pictures never do her justice. I love Mariana, I do. She has become my daughter, too. But I feel sick thinking that if she hadn't been born that my best friend would still be alive. I end feeling trapped in this paradox of her holding the daughter that wouldn't exist if she could hold her in the first place. \n\nThe phone is silent on the other end, as if she waits for me to finish thinking, knowing how I truly feel, but holding a knowledge I do not possess of why things happen the way that they do. Why doesn't she just tell me?! Why can't she teach me how to let go, to know that our friendship is okay and that I don't have to answer the phone?? \n\n\"Hey.\" Her voice instantly brings tears to my eyes and heat to my skin.\n\n\"You know I hate this.\" I am so bitter to her. It was me who was going to leave her. I was supposed to drive into that goddamned pole and end my life. But how could I? How can I taste death when I have an angel who calls regularly like a doctor's appointment, reminding me to care for her child, that I have to keep on living? \n\n\"I know, but I'm dead so I kinda have you beat.\" Of course. Her humor makes me want to wallow in my grief. Of course I miss her, and I answer the phone because I have to, but also because I want to.\n\n\"She plays the violin beautifully, just like you used to.\"\n\n\"I still play it. Post-death is kinda cool when you didn't fuck up life too badly. By the way, you were right, Gandhi made it to heaven too, even though he didn't believe in this Christian god.\"\n\n\"Nicee. When is my time to join you?\"\n\n\"Shutup, I'm not God, I can't just spoil it for you.\"\n\n\"Life sucks without my best friend.\"\n\n\"Death sucks without mine. What are you though, a recluse? It's been 5 years, go find a freaking friend.\" I sigh, knowing that I have been to every function with every friend and coworker looking for that spark of friendship that came with knowing my kindred spirit. \"Hey listen, you know I gotta go. This tether can only last for so long. But promise me you will just stick around on earth a little longer. I gotta get you the VIP pass anyways so you can skip the Pearly Gates.\"\n\n\"I'm not answering the phone anymore. This is the last time.\"\n\n\"Yeah whatever, loser, talk to you soon.\"\n\n~~~~\n\nThe phone rings again. I answer it.", "\"Hey what are you doing?\" his voice raspy and weirdly digitized rang in my ear. \n\n\"oh god, not him again.\" I whispered silently to myself. \"Dude, you're dead. I told you this a million times. Just stop calling me. I need to grieve over your death or whatever.\"\n\n\"No dude. Fuck that. You're going to listen to me I happen to th-\" I didn't let him finish. I ended the call and tossed my phone on the bed. Who does he think he is? He is my best friend, but god, he can be so annoying. I liked him better when he was dead and uncommunicative. \n I sat at my desk and put my hands on my face in frustration. When will these phone calls ever end? The phone began to ring with that all too familiar ringtone I had set for Tim. Snoop Dogg's vocals would be coming on soon. I sighed, and answered the call. \"Will you Stop Fucking call-\" but the voice on the other end over powered mine.\n\n\"No, you listen motherfucker, I had a life. ok!? You hearing me? I had a good college I was attending, a hot girlfriend I was fucking, and I had a ton of fucking great things going for me. So you're going to hear my fucking voice every single fucking day of the rest of your shitty life. I tried to STOP YOU from driving and sitting in that car with you was NOT MY MOTHERFUCKING CHOICE. So because of you're actions, I'm a disembodied voice on a fucking iPhone, while you are a dickless asshole who killed me, so YOU WILL LISTEN to what I have to say!\"\n\nI couldn't take it anymore. I smashed my phone on the ground, and tossed myself on the bed, wet hot sticky tears pouring down my face. he was right. I knew it, he knew it, and there was nothing I could do about it. He was going to guilt me for the rest of my life. I reached under the pillow, and pulled out that cold steal medicine, cocked it, and gave myself a dose of pain medication. Bang. Lights out.", "She died two years ago today, in a car crash with her new boyfriend. What's weird is I didn't feel anything. I told my friend that she deserved it for getting with that fat fuck behind the wheel. I told myself I'd take her somewhere nice next time, before her boyfriend gets out of the hospital.\n\nI guess I never came to terms with it, never accepted it. For the longest time I thought that it was a lie. When our mutual friend called me, I was working away. I was woke up early by the news, and would not be convinced for another three weeks.\n\nSo here we are. She's still here. I see her every day, only she doesn't upload photos any more. I used to enjoy reading her statuses; her witty observations would usually merit a response in my facial muscles - upturned corners of my mouth, a squint of my eyes.\n\nNobody really talks to her any more, except on her birthday and Christmas. I still talk, though; I still wait for the banner on my phone to tell me she's still okay.\n\n^(Based on a true story)", "\"Oh God, I'm so sorry Tabby.\" \n\"What for?\" \n\"I just want to hold you,\" types Steven as he sobs uncontrollably. \n\"You have to move on and live your life. It's almost time.\" \n\"I... can't ever imagine myself moving on. We were robbed of our future together. Why can't you see that? Why aren't you angry?!\" \n\"I can't feel like before. It's almost been a year. The Department of Aided Grief will soon shut off my memory.\" \nSteven cradles his cellphone and once again imagines falling asleep with her in his arms. She was gone. \"I love you Tabby,\" he whispers to the empty room, \"always.\" ", ">Me: Hey.\n\n>Dan: Hey you. How are you doing?\n\n>Me: Not so hot. Jesse broke up with me.\n\n>Dan: Aw, sweetie. I'm so sorry. Why?\n\n>Me: He said we \"just didn't fit.\"\n\n>Me: I thought we fit perfectly.\n\n>Dan: Sometimes what seems perfect turns out to be wrong. How many times did you tell me that?\n\n>Me: I know. But it hurts.\n\n>Dan: I know it hurts, sweetie. Just fall back on my sovereign remedy.\n\n>Me: Toffifay and Drag Race?\n\n>Dan: And ice cream. You can't be properly fierce without ice cream.\n\n>Me: I miss him.\n\n>Dan: I know you do, sweetie. But you'll be fine.\n\n>Me: I miss you too, Danface.\n\n>Dan: I'm right here.\n\n>Me: I know, but...\n\n>Me: I need a hug.\n\n>^^Seen, ^^1:38 ^^a.m.\n\nRest in peace, Dan. You were, and always will be, my very best friend.", "Got another small novels worth of texts from Mike today... \nYou'd think after his death his spelling would improve now that he isn't limited by a squishy brain. \nYou'd be wrong. So very, very wrong.", "JOE:\nMy phone rings once more and I stare at the caller ID, 'Alexis.' Every night at 2am I sit at the kitchen table and I deliberate over whether to answer or deny the call. I stare at the image of Alexis, her brunette locks surrounding her pale face, paused in time at the age of 18. Not for the first time, I look up at the mirror hanging on the wall and trace the creases of the past 20 years upon my face. I tell myself each one represents a specific moment of laughter, or pain, representative of the memories I'd comprised over the last two decades. Secretly, though I'd never admit it aloud, I'm grateful she never got to see me this way. In her mind and through our phone calls I would remain the same teenage boy with whom she fell in love. In some ways this was better. \nI answer the call. I silently vow that this will be the last time, that tomorrow I move on and remain faithful to my wife, Cassandra, upstairs sleeping in our bed. It isn't that I don't love Cassandra, I do, but there is no doubt in my mind that had Alexis' accident not happened, it would have been our children asleep upstairs instead.The gentle tone of her voice draws me back each night. The way she says my name, with pride and longing and love, lures me in once more. It's been difficult finding topics we can discuss together, her lack of future, my future in which someone else has taken her place are skirted around. Our conversations are brief but each night we trade the phrase 'I love you' and I crawl back into bed next to my wife, riddled with equal amounts of pleasure and guilt. \n\n****\n\nCassandra:\nI heard him crawl back into bed with me last night and not for the first time. He thinks I don't know, that I haven't noticed him calling her, texting her. He's so sentimental he can't even bring himself to delete their text messages, he just changed her name but I figured it out. I know I shouldn't have gone through his phone or read them but I needed to do something, to try and protect my family. I put her number in my phone and I call her...a girl with a southern accents answers and she already knows my name.She accuses me of stealing her life, her future and I don't understand what is going on. She's the one who has been having an affair with my husband and she has the audacity to accuse me of ruining her life. I'm crying through the confusion, trying to make sense of things, and then I hear her laugh, enjoying my suffering before asking, \"Don't you know who I am? I'm Alexis.\" I slam the phone down, scared and confused. He's told me all about her, how they were together, but she drowned in an accident. I tell myself it's some kind of twisted joke and get in the car to meet Joe at work where I can confront him. I need answers, an explanation, nothing makes sense anymore. Every few seconds my phone beeps, another text from Alexis. I see traffic lights a few hundred yards up ahead, and briefly look back at my phone. She's telling me things about her past with Joe, telling me how they still love each other and...\n\n****\n\nJoe:\nI hold her belongings in my arms and bring them closer to my chest. Everything smells of her perfume and I inhale deeply. Paramedics tried everything they could but they were too late. She'd failed to pause at the lights and an oncoming car slammed into the side of her. I didn't understand, she was...I choke on the past tense...the most cautious driver. Her phone has been incesantly beeping since I returned home and I assumed it was just work continuing to try and establish why she hadn't made it in this afternoon. In an effort to cease the tone, I go to hit the off switch, but before I do, I see the messages are all from an unknown number and I read on. Even in print I know that voice anywhere. I can hear it but this time it isn't received with warmth like normal, it chills me and I throw the phone across the room. It was her. Cassandra knew. Alexis caused the crash, distracted her, the times matched. \n\nI pick up my own phone and dial Cassandra, praying that the same unknown discrepency will allow me to stay in touch with my wife after her death. Her phone rings and rings across the other side of the room but I am met with the stone-cold silence of her voicemail. I look back at my phone, scrolling through my contacts and without hesitation I delete my only connection with Alexis from my phone, blocking the number too. This time when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I see only guilt. I cheated on my wife with my dead girlfriend for our entire marriage and it caused her death. Alive, my wife was never enough to make me let go of Alexis, but in death, I know she is the only one I ever loved. I can see that now. I just wish I could tell her...\n", "\"So, you dead now?\" I typed to my dear friend who had recently passed.\n\n \"Yeah, it was exactly like the books said it was like, it hurt a tonne, and the morphine was not helping, but it all went away. The pain, the sadness, the happiness, the feeling.\" He typed, clearly taking his time when writing about his own death. \n\n\"Collapsed lung, spinal damage and heavy burning, IIRC\" I typed, forgetting to be slightly more formal than that. \"\n\n\"Ha, IIRC eh? I suppose I should get used to these kinds of abbreviations now eh? Now that I'm dead, but hurrah for technology. We even have these handy autocorrects to help us with our poor English now\" He jibed back at me\n\n\"Eh, that helps with spelling and basic grammar, but it is no substitute for good English\"\n\n\"That reminds me, can we even learn when we are dead? If we could chat we could definitely use the Internet, we could do whatever we want\"\n\n\"I supose you could, but most people get tired of it, they go to sleep, and they never answer anymore.\"\n\n\"Now that you mention it, I do feel quite tired. I might want to take a nap now\"\n\n\"So soon? You just got here, but I suppose even if people could talk while dead, not many feel the need to.\"\n\n\"*Yawns* Yeah, it does not feel very necessary to talk anymore, but you. You were here with me, the whole time\"\n\n\"We are best buddies, don't let minor things like death break that\"\n\n\"Heh, sorry about the car crash\"\n\n\"Eh, at least I died instantly\"\n" ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 4, 6, 6, 7, 14, 55 ]

[ "1421511465", "1421520554", "1421523434", "1421524404", "1421524782", "1421514417", "1421519912", "1421516305", "1421516859", "1421513891", "1421512287", "1421518981", "1421508998", "1421514252", "1421509580" ]

[ "The last thing Frank ever wanted to be was one of the dudes in a mascot suit at basketball games. Instead, he wound up one of the dudes in a mascot suit at hockey games.\n\nBut fuck hockey, and fuck hockey fans. Week one he got in a fistfight with a fan who poured beer through his eye holes. Knocked the guy down three rows of bleachers. Sent some other folks flying like bowling pins, unfortunately, which at the end of the day was what his boss was unhappy about.\n\nBut hey, he got a second chance. This was America, capital \"A\" America, and the American dream said you could work your way up from wearing a giant Fightin' Raccoon suit to reeling in the cash as an investment banker. \n\nWeek two, he was handing out free T-Shirts when another drunk fan gave him a big shove. He tumbled down the stairs, sprained his wrist, and found himself upside down, his stupid overstuffed tail propping him up.\n\nCool it, Frank, he thought to himself, but then he saw the guy laughing, a belly laugh, just a good old guffaw, and before he knew it he was marching up those steps, sprained wrist or no sprained wrist.", "Can't breathe. I'm stuck inside this suit. It'll be fun, they said, you'll earn some cash. I've been in here 10 minutes and the zip is stuck. I need to pee and chuck simultaneously. It feels like I'm going to boil to death in this nasty, polyester costume with a tiny gauze strip for my eyes and mouth. I'm breathing in moist air. I'm trying not to hyperventilate. 3 hours to go. I'm lead out into the sunlight and I can barely see in front of me. Something is forced into my hands. I let out a sob. I don't want to do this. I try and rip the costume open but it doesn't work. I'm yelling but my words are muffled. I try to run away. Fall over. Bang my knee on something. People are laughing at my pain. Tears are streaming. I can hear photos being taken. I'm helped up. I go back to the store. I'm fired. Who wants to hire a giant hot dog?" ]

[ 1, 1 ]

[ "1421537202", "1421538382" ]

[ "\nAt that point the Masked Things In The Dark had taken him, his soul wrenched from where it should be, and taken to a place where it should not. The Things In The Darkness had tortured him for what seemed like a dozen eternites., they had entered his mind, and torn him apart from the inside with his deepest fears and desires. They taunted him with reimagining of all caliber of the deaths of his loved ones, sometimes by Eric, but it was hardly unusual for something far worse; far worse than even physically possible, but here in this realm of torture the rules of time and death apparently didn’t apply. But after years of pain, the toy of the Things In The Dark, had broken. \n\n Eric Carver sat in his dark realm. The world melted into existence. The Things wanted to play again. The victim this time was of his mother, who had killed herself to pay for her son’s education. Funny, Carver thought, I had forgotten about that. Carver continued to sit. The image melted away into the scene of his wife’s stillbirth. The image of his sister-in-law begged him to help her, and she had yelled at him for being so selfish, and pleaded for him to help his wife. Carver continued to sit. There were sounds of discomfort from the Things In The Dark, not the expected laughter. The scenes changed, each one devolving into things more horrific, things that had once made Carver beg for them to stop, tears welling in his eyes. Carver continued to sit. \n\nThe beasts grew angry quickly. The Things In The Dark no longer held their masquerades of reality, they had devoured him, ripped him limb from limb, eviscerated and hung him. but Carver no long screamed. He no longer cried. He no longer pleaded for forgiveness from what he believed to be hell. They had decided. They would do the unspeakable. \n\nCarver sat, and the world around him reshaped and encircling him were clouds of a tenebrous flesh, four masks leading the bands of it like heads. One of them had stopped in front of Carver and he glanced up at it indifferently. The Thing’s equivalent of a hand had slowly moved towards its mask, grasped it, and removed it. Carver then saw what lied behind the laughing mask. The face of a mad god, the face of a thing that only by analogy be given real words. And yet, Carver continued to sit. There was a booming scream and a wrenching of a soul, being torn from the place where it should not be, back to where it should. They had given up on their toy and he was returned to reality.\n", "\"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, IGNORE IT?!\" The general bellowed.\nTheir last hope yawned and stretched. He sat on his chair.\n\n\"Our kingdom is under attack! Our palace is being overrun! You're our last hope against the wretched night creatures, son of the light, carrier of the blade 'Smite', begifted with the powers of sunlight and YOU WANT TO IGNORE THE THREAT?\"\n\n\"Yes, that's kind of my plan.\"\n\n\"As we speak NOW, they are standing outside the walls!\"\n\n\"Have you considered, I don't know, to just light fires and camp there until it's all over? Sun's going up soon. They will have to retreat. The dark sorcerer Bewars can't keep up such an army forever.\"\n\nThe general glared at him. He obviously thought he had gone mad. A heat stroke, perhaps? Heh.\n\n\"Of course we know they cannot stand fire. That's why all archers have been equipped with fire arrows. Our knights have replaced their swords with TORCHES! Their numbers however number in the milions!\"\n\n\"Exactly. Millions. What's the point of me going down there and slaughtering five legions if they have another hundredninety?\"\n\n\"Do you have a better idea?\" he asked with a red face.\n\n\"Simple,\" I said. \"Try camping. Camp with fire, camp like a noob.\"", "It's half past six and the setting sun casts my shadow across the office like a finger puppeteer's fist raised in defiance. The vivid orange light filters through the grimy windows behind me highlighting the last pale traces of smoke that rise from my dying cigarette.\n\nMy old partner's desk is still covered with dust, a grey version of what school children dream of every winter's night before school. No one's touched that desk in over a year. The short version of the story is there was a man who lived in a city, and in that city there was a box job gone wrong. And that box job came with a case of lead poisoning that left a widow and two children. And an empty desk that no one's got time to dust when there's been a murder in the city.\n\nI drop the blinds behind me and let the darkness fill the room. The shade over my door is backlit by the hall, ready for the next tragedy to traipse into my life and take the stage. I don’t know if I’m ready for it but she’s ready for me. I can tell from the shadow on my door that she was trouble.\n\nI don’t know if this ankle can tell, but I watch the shadow tidy her hair and fix her hat just so. Every line is in place and every curve is just as dangerous to me as it was to James Dean. Then like reindeer on the rooftop come the knock I was dreading.\n\n“Sir, are you in? I need your help.”\n\nI can’t do it. Not today of all days. I sit, still as the dead and quiet as a church-mouse. \n\n“Please. I’m in trouble and I need someone to help me.”\n\nNope, not my problem. She’ll leave. *knock knock knock* She’s doing her best impression of a boxer stretching above their weight class against my door. I panic and duck under the desk, just in time too, the shade surrenders and snaps up clearing the window to the hall. She stops, I’m sure she’s surveying the room looking for a sleuth before she gets kicked to the skids. The twist sobs outside the door before turning tail and walking away. \n\nThat’s the end of my day. I check the magnums in my desk. There’s two of them in there. The first one’s been empty since I went bent and shot my partner. The other’s a bottle and it’s kept me loaded since. I’m Tracer Bullet. I used to be a professional snoop.", "Early June sun bathed the soft grass of the Meadow Lakes apartment complex in pleasant, golden light. It reflected off the pond in glittering flashes and warmed the clean sidewalk that curved about the buildings. Every so often, a runner clad in bright clothing left the complex to take advantage of the beautiful morning. A few chattering kids played on the swings in the adjacent field.\n\nMark Thomas's living room in apartment 110, however, was completely black save for the glow from the flatscreen TV mounted on the wall. He had replaced the unit's plastic blinds with ones made of thick, dark cloth and installed an expensive surround-sound system. American Sniper, which had just been released on iTunes, blared from the speakers. Mark had hit play on his Apple TV remote over an hour ago but was still completely focused. He was trying to take in every detail of Bradley Cooper's Oscar-nominated performance. \n\nMark desperately wanted to be an actor. Ever since he was a kid, images of himself performing daring feats danced in his head. He pictured himself as a character of great mental strength, taking courageous action to a backdrop of soaring orchestra music. He imagined making people laugh, cry, and find inspiration. He didn't even care so much about the money that would come with being famous, although it would be nice. \n\nEvery morning, he woke up and did one of two things: drove ten minutes down the road to manage The Broken Egg, one of his family's five restaurants, or plotted ways to break into show business. Sometimes he did Internet research, sometimes he bought books about acting on Amazon, sometimes he watched great actors like Bradley Cooper to pick up tips. The problem was that there weren't many opportunities in Findlay, Ohio, so Mark didn't have much to show for all his reading and observing. Maybe one day his parents would let him sell The Broken Egg and he could go back to school or move to LA or something like that. But for now, he'd decided, he was sort of SOL. \n\nAfter the movie ended, Mark took his cereal bowl to the kitchen and opened the blinds. Harsh light flooded in at the same time his cell phone started ringing, the volume turned all the way up. Mark nearly tripped over the ottoman in his confusion as he reached between the couch cushions for his phone. \"Hello?\" he said.\n\n\"Hey, man, what's up?\" It was his friend Jason, who served at The Broken Egg.\n\n\"Nothing, dude. What're you up to?\" Mark rubbed his eyes.\n\n\"I was gonna smoke and then maybe go to that new head shop on Crescent Boulevard. You wanna come check it out?\"\n\nMark thought about it for a second. He had a couple packages from Amazon just inside the front door waiting to be opened. \"...Sure, let me just take a quick shower and I'll come over,\" he eventually replied. Jason also lived at Meadow Lakes.\n\n\"Cool, man. Oh, and I just ordered way too much pizza if you want any when you get here.\" He sounded like he'd already smoked that morning.\n\n\"Cool. See ya.\" Mark hung up the phone and headed for the shower. He could start the books later, when he felt refreshed.\n\nSix hours later, Mark returned home with a new piece and a slight sunburn from hanging out in the park all afternoon. He knew he'd been meaning to do something when he got back, but couldn't remember at the moment. He flicked on the TV, ripped the clear plastic off a bag of popcorn, and placed it in the microwave. Mark wondered what good college football games were on tonight. He grabbed a cold soda to go with his snack and settled onto the couch for the evening.", "Sir Ethan the Brave was the mightiest champion of the Avrist people. If the concept of curriculum vitae existed in Avristila, his would include eight years training under King Mightsmash of the nearby friendly Ogre Kingdom, the successful defence of a small hamlet from a rogue necromancer, and three confirmed dragon kills. In what many consider to be his finest hour, he single-handedly defended against an incursion from a rogue faction from within the Ogre Kingdom, cutting down scores of opponents without rest. \n\nAnd after all of that, he was ready for a rest. He retired to a small property he won in an honourable duel (with a charming rogue that spent too much time with the Queen of Avristila for the King’s liking). He spent most of his days improving his leatherworking skills, fashioning ever more efficient scabbards and holsters for his various weapons. It was a quiet life.\n\nSo when a messenger from the nearby town approached his hermitage in the Avristila mountains, he was a little peeved. “Sir Ethan!” the messenger cried, “we need your assistance!”\n\n“What’s that?” Sir Ethan said, “you want me to kill some more ogres?” \n\n“Not kill, Sir Ethan,” the messenger insisted, “just scare them away! Your legend is more than enough of a deterrent!”\n\nSir Ethan shrugged. “There’s terribly little glory in that,” he said, “come get me when there’s a real problem to solve.”\n\nThe messenger walked back to the town, disgraced. Sir Ethan walked back to his workbench, having already forgotten what the messenger had asked. He was working on an enchanted scabbard, having acquired a hide of hydra leather. A local wizard had promised him that, were he able to stitch together the skin in just the right way, he would never run out of swords. “Draw one,” the wizard said, “and two will take its place!”\n\nHe was dubious.\n\nDays passed, and Sir Ethan worked without rest to construct his enchanted scabbard. The enchantment was working fine, but he was having a great deal of difficulty getting the draw angle correct. Too loose, and the sword would never stay in place (and probably not work for the purposes of sword duplication). Too tight, and he’d waste valuable seconds in an incorrect sword arc. \n\nA second messenger made the approach to Sir Ethan’s hermitage. “Sir Ethan!” he cried, “we need your assistance!”\n\nSir Ethan poked his head out, hands still clutching his leatherworking tools. “What is it this time?” he asked.\n“The ogres have grown in number, Sir Ethan, and their camps are approaching the borders of town!”\n\nSir Ethan rolled his eyes. “Are the ogres hurting anyone?” he called, “has anything gone missing? Any children kidnapped to have their bones ground into bread?”\n\nThe messenger hesitated. “No, Sir Ethan,” the messenger said, chagrined. \n\n“Then come back if they do!”\n\nThe messenger hung his head, and began to walk away. He stopped himself, and called back again. “Sir Ethan, the ogres claim that King Mightsmash has been deposed, and a mighty rebel army threatens to wash over the land!” \nSir Ethan poked his head out the window one last time. “Come and get me when we’re knee-deep in ogres, and I’ll kill them all for you!”\n\nThe messenger shook his head and walked away. \n\nSir Ethan toiled at his mighty enchanted scabbard for a few more days. He figured out the perfect angle for the mouth of his scabbard, and got it working with the enchantment. Standing in his practice yard, he threw sword after sword from his waist into an ogre-shaped target dummy. He quickly found himself overwhelmed by swords, but most of them found their way into the fake ogre. He smiled at his handiwork, and turned to walk inside.\n\n“Sir Ethan?” called a much deeper, slower voice. Sir Ethan started, and his hand reached for his scabbard. He turned around and found himself face-to-face with an eight-foot tall, foul-smelling, grey-skinned ogre. \n\n“Sir Ethan, I’m a representative from Ogreville, the town at the base of these hills,” his visitor said, and Sir Ethan’s hand fell from his scabbard.\n\nSir Ethan frowned. “I don’t recall a town named Ogreville,” he said, “I feel like I would have paid more attention to it.”\n\nThe ogre smiled. “We’re recent settlers, peaceful folk really. We just wanted to let you know that you don’t need to worry about the messages you’ve received over the last couple of days. The ogre problem is well in hand.”\n\nSir Ethan smiled. “Fantastic!” he said, “I was getting worried that the villagers had gone soft.”\n\nThe ogre’s smile grew wider. “I can’t speak for all of them, but I can say with certainty that at least six of them were very soft. Tender… hearted, too.”\n\nSir Ethan spat in the dirt. “Weaklings,” he said.\n\n“I quite agree,” the ogre replied, “I’m afraid I must be off, but while I’m here, would you be interested in coming to Ogreville for a dinner in your honour?”\n\nSir Ethan smiled. “It would be an honor!” he said.", "The phone started to vibrate for the 5th time in the last couple minutes. John bent over and turned it off. His ex was a bit of a psycho and wouldn’t stop calling him. Suddenly his inbox came alive with e-mails from her. Seriously, she just couldn’t get the message. He had broken up with her. She’d cheated on him and he wasn’t going to stay with a cheater. He got up as the door rang. He heard a saw starting outside, but he thought nothing of it. His neighbor was doing some renovations anyways.\n\n****\n\n“Come on,” she whispered frantically. “Come on, come on, come on.”\n\nAshley flopped back on her bed and stared at the ceiling. She was tired. In fact, she didn’t really think she should even bother trying to get ahold of him anymore. He didn’t want to hear the facts. She had even sent him a video of the whole thing, but apparently he refused to watch it.\n\nAfter a few minutes of stressing out over their relationship, an idea suddenly popped into her mind. She headed for the garage, knowing exactly what she needed to do.\n\n****\n\nHe hadn’t talked to John since the incident. George tried to call him, but his phone was off. He didn’t like being accused of sleeping with his best friend’s girlfriend. It was just a kiss after all. His friend wouldn’t even let him explain.\n\n****\n\nGarth was ready and motivated. He was finally going to get a job. He would no longer be the unemployable loser he had always been. He got up, took a shower, shaved, grabbed a newspaper, and started looking for a job. He gulped down some cereal as he circled a few jobs and prepared to get applications ready.\n\nAround lunch time Garth starts to get the applications started. But it feels like a bit too much work. Still, he’s tired of being unemployed. And then a brilliant idea comes into his mind.\n\n****\n\n“John, listen to me, will you?” George said as the door opened, his best friend looking back at him. “It was all just for laughs and giggles at the party. Didn’t Ashley send you the video? You just walked in with incredibly bad timing.”\n\nHe watched as John grabbed his cell, turned it on, and watched the video.\n\n“My bad,” John said laughing, slapping George on the back. “Think Ashley is going to be pissed?”\n\n****\n\nGarth opened his front door and started dinner, surprised to find that he even had wine left. A day at the spa had sure done him good and cleared his mind. He couldn’t even remember what it was he had been so motivated to do this morning.\n\nSmall, feminine hands wrapped around him while he cooked in the nude.\n\n“Why do I find you so attractive?” Ashely asked him.\n\n“One, because I’m incredibly handsome,” Garth replied. “Two, because you’re a bit drunk. And three, because your boyfriend, exboyfriend, is an asshole.”\n\n“Yeah, sounds about right,” Ashley replied as her hands started to move down his body.\n\n*I chose all 4.*", "I'm going through these on the best of writing prompts sub so if I'm just way off on the window for discussion I'm sorry but I still wanna participate lol \nI thought it was strangely, scarily accurate to this sort of dominating, dependent relationship. \nGood job \n", "A wall of data. Sheer awe. Terror. Yvette looked out at the sphere of information that was Resnet’s security network. “Alright” she though, “I can do this”. She pulled off the headset, dark room greeting her. Got up. Coffee. Yvette sat back down, looked at the pile of dead software at her feet. One new one worth trying here, and she’d probably only get one shot at it. She had already geared up her deck to move fast, hourly Parisian microcondo paid for with cash, if she was detected she could be gone in a half hour. Deck was hot too, stolen from some hotshot jokey in London and smuggled through the Channel in carry on. In theory she was clean. On paper she was clean. Cost her two grand to verify there was no file on her.\n\nOne tape, freshly wound and unused. Custom virus, top-gun encryption unused. She’d probably get one use for sure, two if she was sloppy before antivirus adapted. One for sure if they were outsourcing time on an AI for security. She broke the seal and took it out of the blank paper case. Slotted it into the hot deck and pulled the visor back over her head, staring back at the encryption. Thumbed into the terminal and verified the software virus was live. She armed it, and took what countermeaures the hot deck had built in live.\n\nYvette thumbed the keyboard, too nervous to fire yet. She was new at this, couple months in, just another hot shit jokey after a name-recognition payday. Resnet was big, huge target. Big data. She moved her hands off the keyboard, palmed for the coffee and took a sip. She could probably do it. Even if the trace hit hard and fast she’d planned on bugging out fast if she had to. If it worked perfectly the breach wouldn’t be noticed and she’d be a legend. Net fame, big fish after her tapes. Fuck it. Do it.\n\nResnet’s security was noise; pure encryption hitting every possible angle of protection. She read the terminal as the virus hit, interaction quietly with the data. No reaction, good and bad. Nobody’d ever got through, so as far as she could tell the fact that her deck wasn’t hitting her with every possible alarm was a good sign. She waited, the script crunched. More coffee. The noise started to clear to a lesser variety of chaos. The script was working, the wall was going down. Progress was slow, but she wasn’t running out the door with a hot deck trying to find a place to sleep without a net footprint.\n\nThe virus broke through, the wall fading to blank. She was going to be a star, kind to have their screen name in the history books. Hopefully next to “unknown”. Her view was filled with black. She moved around, straining her neck to turn the rig around and get a better view. Black filled the space where the encryption had been, the net vibrant behind her. She keyed up the terminal and got a data feed to replace the visual. It was a neutron star of pure encryption, dense data beyond any possible metric. A firewall with no flaws. She pulled a snapshot from the feed and looked at it. Fuck this, this shouldn’t exist. Yvette lifted the goggles and looked at the deck. No, this wasn’t her league. This wasn’t anyone’s league. Resnet’s security system was flawless, what her code had broke through was a hollow shell of this thing. \n\nHit the power on the deck. Actually, make that the plug. All the cables. Fuck it, better run anyways. Yvette knew that kind of system shouldn’t exist, and there was a decent chance it knew she shouldn’t either. Even seeing it was dangerous. She’d trusted her code to get through the primary defence and she couldn’t help but feel that she’d been allowed to see what she saw; a glimpse at why nobody had ever beaten Resnet’s security. The source of the rumours that they couldn’t be cracked. She couldn’t be the first person to see it. Still. Better off leaving no footprint, not trusting the barrier she got through. More than one would-be hacker had simply vanished from the net, hopefully just arrested. Yvette somehow doubted that.\n\nShe folded up the deck, packed her bag quickly, and as calmly as she could walked out into the Parisian night.", "The world had become a dangerous place since Supra-Girl had been frozen in ice by Dr. Ignatius Drax. Without her and her amazing supra powers, Drax's \"reign of terror\" had gone on unchecked for the past 50 years. Giant syphilitic ants, robot tidal waves, and something-something lasers. Standard supra-villain evil stuff. \n\nBut, as it turned out, all of his schemes were pretty ineffectual and never really needed Supra Girl's intervention in the first place. In addition to being supra-sized, the giant ants had gained self-awareness which saddled them with debilitating feelings of shame and self-loathing… over what ended up being a very treatable STD. The robot tidal wave just didn't make any sense to anyone. And 4 Chan ended up hacking the laser and burning a picture of Dick-Butt onto the moon.\n\nAfter about 20 years of the surpa-villain nonsense, Drax went straight and started a multi-national conglomerate focusing on plastics and plastic-like polymers, industrial scale injection molding, and micro-electronics. Ironically enough, this turned out to be his most evil plot of all. Despite employing almost half a million people world-wide, and providing them with exceptional benefits including dental, his massive company accounted for about fifty percent of C02 emissions world-wide over the past thirty years. (Full disclosure: there was also an incident where a phalanx of DraxCorp. injection molding robots gained sentience and gave Barbies dildos for arms but that’s generally considered a distant second in the evil department).\n\nTo compound the irony, the inevitable global warming from said C02 emissions melted the “eternal mausoleum of icy doom” that Drax had Supra Girl, aka Dolly McFarland reporter for the Metropolitan Picayune (now a wholly owned subsidiary of DraxCorp, Inc.), entombed in.\n\nThe following timeline pieced-together from eyewitness accounts of what happened in downtown Metropolitan City Tuesday, April fifth two thousand twenty seven shortly after Supra Girl was thawed out of her frozen prison:\n\n(1:07 PM): The National DraxCorp. Weather Service broadcasts a tornado watch for Metropolitan city. [This eyewitness account is sponsored by DraxCorp: “If it’s not DraxCorp, it’s not weather!”]\n\n(1:11 PM): Radar confirms F8 tornado touches down just outside of city. Tornado watch upgraded to a warning.\n\n(1:12 PM): Woman with wet hair and blue lips seen frantically running around the streets as if she was looking for something.\n\n(1:13 PM): Woman stops child on the street and is overheard asking where she can find a phone booth. Child responds, “What?”\n\n(1:14 PM) Woman stops an adult and inquires about phone booth. Adult hands woman their DraxPhone. [This eyewitness account is sponsored by DraxCorp: “If it’s not a DraxCorp, then it’s not a phone because no one makes phones anymore besides DraxCorp!”]\n\n(1:15 PM) Woman seen spinning phone around in her hands, “Where are the buttons?”\n\n(1:16 PM) Woman spotted running into alley. Closed circuit security camera picks up Woman in the alley tearing open her blouse in heroic fashion. Woman looks up and directly into the camera and mouths what experts deduced to either be the word, “fudge” or “truck.” Woman runs out of the alley.\n\n(1:18 PM) Woman spotted running up to a police officer standing next to a windowless police van. Woman: “I need to use your van.” Officer: “Please take shelter, Miss.” Woman: “But I’m a reporter.” Officer: “Now that’s a word I haven’t heard in years. Tweet this, Blogger.” Officer flips her the bird.\n\n(1:20) DraxCorp Early-Warning Tornado Sirens start. [This eyewitness account sponsored by DraxCorp. “If it’s DraxCorp, it’s probably too late!”] \n\n(1:20 PM) Woman seen by multiple citizens running around and waving her arms in the air “like a lunatic” screaming, “Tornado coming! Tornado coming!”\n\n(1:21 PM) The last citizens on the street safely take shelter in the building of their choice thanks to DraxCoat Spray-on Tornado And Terrorist-Proof Polymer. [This eyewitness account is sponsored by DraxCorp: “If it’s not DraxCorp, you’ll probably die!”]\n\n(1:22 PM) Woman wanders around in the street aimlessly. A citizen, takes Woman by the arm and leads her into a corner diner.\n\n(1:23 PM) Woman weeps while the sky darkens and the tornado approaches. As the crowd in the diner watches a stream of the tornado on their phones they let out a cheer when it mows through one of the few remain buildings not covered in DraxCoat. A couple of bodies can be seen flying from the building. [This eyewitness account is sponsored by DraxCorp. “If it’s not DraxCorp… see they really did die!”] \n\n(1:24 PM) Woman asks a citizen sitting next to her to explain what is happening. Citizen, brings up Wikipedia [A wholly owned subsidiary of DraxCorp] and shows her the DraxCorp entry.\n\n(1:30 PM) Woman hands the phone back to the Citizen and is overheard saying to him, “But Drax is destroying the world and you are paying him to do it! We’ve got to do something to stop him!” [This eyewitness account is brought to you by DraxCorp: “If it’s DraxCorp, it’s not destroying the world!”]\n\n(1:30 PM) Woman complains of a headache. Citizen types something in to his phone and within thirty seconds a DraxAzon.com drone flies into the diner and drops a bottle of aspirin on the counter next to the Woman. Woman is amazed. [This eyewitness account is brought to you by DraxCorp: “If it’s not DraxCorp, you’ll probably have to wait five minutes to get it!”]\n\n(1:31 PM) Citizen shows Woman how to order something on his phone by punching in your DraxCorp Social Security Number. [This eyewitness account was brought to you by DraxCorp: “If it’s not DraxCorp, you don’t exist!”]\n\n(3:21 PM) Woman stares at a phone transfixed as the fifth F8 twister that day barrels through downtown. A drone flies into the diner and drops a box into the Woman’s lap. She tears it open. It’s a pair DraxCorp earbuds. [This eyewitness account was brought to you by DraxCorp: “If it’s not DraxCorp, you’re probably an enemy of the State!”] Woman throws the empty box onto a pile of about thirty other empty boxes at her feet, puts the earbuds on and plugs them into the phone.\n\n(3:21 PM) Citizen is asks Woman, “Can I have my phone back now?” Woman grunts and pushes his hand away. Latest tornado hits building not protected by DraxCoat. Dozens die. The Woman and the rest of the diner erupt in cheers.\n", "I always feel it on the inside of my cheeks, at the line where it connects to my gums. \n\nIrritability would set in soon. Already I could feel my nerves start to fray. I stared at my dead iMac screen. \n\n\"Work, you piece of shit!\" I slapped the side of it, the power light remained on, while I could still hear the drive inside attempt to read the disc. It was taunting me. Saying *oh, I can still work, but you don't know how to fix me!*\n\nI knew it was right, even if I knew the proper keyboard shortcuts, the bluetooth connection wasn't active. \n\n\"I wish I had enough money to build my own PC.\" I was talking to myself. My wife knew better than to try to talk me down at this point. \"Hell, I could probably build a better computer then what it's going to cost me to repair this iShit.\" I had googled the problem in my phone. Several things popped up, graphics card, faulty hard drive, none of which I could deal with.\n\nMy cheeks burned now. I unplugged the computer, if only to pry myself away from the glorified paperweight and its taunting glowing light. As I stepped outside, I was tempted to find a place where I could purchase materials for thermite, if only to send the machine to hell in a most satisfying way. \n\nI lit my cigarette and stared at the trail of smoke rising from the cherry.\n\n\"I'll quit smoking one day.\" I said as I exhaled my addiction.", "\"Jess, why are you still with that man?\" Kathy said, passing Jessica a starbucks cup across the plastic table. Jessica opened the plastic lid carefully, savouring the sweet, chocolaty, coffee aroma that rose up from it. She knew it would be too hot to drink right now, but she could barely help herself. She took a sip from the cardboard cup. Just a tiny one. It seared her tongue so she barely tasted anything, but it was good enough. She hadn't had her drink in months.\n\n\"Oh, Mark isn't that bad,\" she said, wrapping her fingers around the thin cup. The heat cut through the thin, one-size fits all pink gloves, pulling the cold out of her hands. \n\nKathy snorted. \"Jess, everything you've told me about that man is bad. What was it he called you last week?\"\n\n\"A fat cow,\" Jess whispered, conscious of the patrons around her. \"But he's right, I haven't been to the gym in a month and I was eating a-\"\n\n\"Jess,\" Kathy cut her off. \"Look at yourself, you weight 110 lbs in your bra. And didn't you tell me that you hadn't been to the gym because he cancelled your membership?\"\n\nShe didn't know what to say to that. She sipped the triple cream mocha latte instead. It burned her mouth again, but she didn't care. Mark would have called her stupid for drinking it so quickly. \"Why can't you ever just let it cool?\" he'd told her years ago, back when they still went on dates. Now he just made comments on her eating habits when he saw her with Starbucks.\n\n\"Jess, listen to me. You have to leave that man,\" Kathy was saying, her dark eyes pleading with Jess. She nodded.\n\n--\n\nIt was getting dark when she finally got home. The red glowing numbers over the kitchen stove sent her into a panic in the dark home. It was nearly 7 and she hadn't made any plans for dinner yet. Quickly, she whipped open the fridge, looking for anything useful. Last night's pot roast stared up at her. It would have to do, she thought, quickly tossing it into a pan to reheat. A handful of leftover potatoes went into the pan beside it just as the front door opened.\n\n\"I'm home, Jessica,\" Mark's voice echoed through the hallway. \"What's for dinner, love?\"\n\n\"Ahh, leftovers,\" she said anxiously, peeking out of the kitchen. She saw Mark's expression sag in the hallway. \n\n\"Oh.\" The disappointment in his voice was obvious as he came into the kitchen with one arm behind his back. Jessica quickly turned back to the stove, trying to bring a little more life to the leftovers. There was some rustling on the kitchen table as she started to talk.\n\n\"Sorry, the subway was just super slow coming back and then-\"\n\n\"And then you stopped off at Starbucks again and bought another expensive, fatty drink.\" His voice held such certainty that she glanced back. He was staring at the garbage can in the corner, her Starbucks cup still sitting on top of the pile of trash she'd forgotten to take out before she left. She licked her lips nervously, noticing a bouquet of pink daisies sitting on the table.\n\n\"Sorry, just Kathy wanted to take me out and it'd been such awhile since we talked-\"\n\n\"Yeah, I get it.\" Mark's voice dripped with disappointment. \"Just I'd had a really rough day at work, and I was really looking forward to coming home to a nice, home-cooked meal from my beautiful wife. I'd even bragged to my coworkers about how lovely it would be. But instead I came home to a cold house and yesterday's leftovers because my wife wanted to spend my money on an over-priced coffee.\"\n\n\"Ah..\" Jessica bit back the urge to apologize again. \"I could... make something else? Maybe order in?\"\n\n\"No no, it's fine,\" Mark said with a tone that said it really wasn't. \"I think we already wasted enough money today.\" He gestured at the flowers on the table. \"I even brought you some daisies to say thank you for being such a good wife. Seems silly now.\"\n\nJessica bit her lip. \"Thank you.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" Mark got up, tossing the flowers onto the counter as he headed towards the garbage can. \"Guess I'll just go take out the garbage then. Can't even relax when I get home.\"\n\nThe rest of the night passed in steely silence as the pair watched one of Mark's favourite movies on Jessica's old couch. It was the last piece of furniture she had here, passed down from her grandmother. The rest of it was shiny new, stuff that Mark had brought in to replace her old stuff. Some of the old furniture had been falling to shreds before he had got his new job, effectively tripling the income Jess had brought in. \n\nThe movie passed on but Jessica barely heard it, lost in thought over Kathy's comments. Mark really wasn't that bad, she thought as he wrapped an arm around her. He'd brought her flowers, after all, and paid for all their new stuff. All he'd wanted was a clean house and a warm meal. If she hadn't been out with her friend, she'd have been able to get that all done. Something exploded on the TV and Mark pulled her closer to him, snuggling up to say it was all forgiven.\n\nShe didn't need to leave him." ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 5, 59 ]

[ "1421571109", "1421577746", "1421580955", "1421588026", "1421609651", "1421621290", "1421638942", "1421566156", "1421582698", "1421564392", "1421562321" ]

[ "Arthur paced back and forth nervously along the puke-green corridor. His hands wrapped, one over the other nervously cracking knuckles. Only the whites of his eyes were visible as he proffered fervent supplications to God. Any god. \n\nHis eyes, framed by dark lids, betrayed his proximity to insanity. Harsh, violent shrieks pierced the morbid peace of the halls. The sickly sweet smell of death had long failed to assault his senses, numbed by the nerve-wracking stress. When he wasn't praying, he would peek nervously into the operating room to appraise the progress. He peeked in once more. \n\nIt was a war zone. \n\nLinda screamed in the throes of labor. Every cord of muscle in her wiry neck bulged with her efforts. Next to her, a gaunt aged man slept with all the peace of a man approaching death. Little green men and women surrounded her, their arms by their sides. They could do nothing but wait. \n\n'Come on you old codger, fucking give up already'\n\nArthur tore himself away from the sight. And continued his fevered laps across the hall. \n\nAll that mattered was timing. He needed to go *just* in time, *just* stop breathing. Just die. And maybe his daughter would have an inkling of a chance. \n\nThe door flung open. An apparition of a Martian stepped out, drenched in blood. Her sleep-deprived eyes gazed sullenly at him. He caught her last few words '..... almost there, you can come in now, congratulations.' \n\n'Huh?'\n\nHer facial muscles contorted in an odd mockery of a smile \n'Sir, you're the first father in twenty two years. Congratulations'\n\nArthur wept. ", "An angel was running. That's right, not flying, flapping, swooping nor soaring, but running. Like a bloody fool. It is a well-guarded secret that Angels are actually incredibly clumsy and forgetful when they are stressed.\n\n\"What do you mean we ran out?!\" \nIt was running AND shouting, a floating orb of light beside it glowed and responded with excuses and apologies and statistics about the human race and its expansive population. \n\"So, we just ran out? Of souls. We ran out of souls.\" The angel was obviously not relaxed after this orb's retort, however it had reached its destination and entered the chamber slowly. Before it, a vast pool of shimmering liquid gold rippled and glistening in the half-light of the room, from the centre rose a tall, bearded figure with piercing blue eyes.\n\"Oh, God...\"\n\"Yes, Balthasar?\"\n\"It is not good news, I fear, m'lord.\"\nGod stood and stared blankly for a moment, his mind melding with the angel as its thoughts became his own. \n\"We ran out of souls!?\" He exclaimed, suddenly disrupting the soft tranquility of the golden pond.\n\"It would appear so, m'lord.\"\n\"Then what on Earth did she give birth to? Freeze time for me please, Balthasar, I must go down and see this for my self.\"\n\nWithin minutes, God was dressed for the occasion and descended to Earth, the world stood still in an eternal second as he materialised in a hospital room in Reading, located in the United Kingdom.\nBefore him lay a red-faced woman, clearly fresh from giving birth, and in her arms lay a tiny infant boy, his eyes locked with the face of God, though he would never know he had seen such a rare sight.\n\" Who are you, boy?\" God whispered to himself, leaning in to examine a set of forms being filled in by a nurse.\n\"What name is given to the first soulless human being?\"\nHe paused for a second longer, smiling to himself as he did.\n\"Jeremy Kyle\"\n\"Nice name, better keep an eye on this one!\" And with that, God returned to Heaven to inflict horrific illnesses on other unborn children and listen to his favourite album of middle-class white people mumbling politely in his honour.", "The pain started building again, up from the small of Sarah's back, fighting around her abdomin, then consuming and crushing her. It was hard to think through the contractions, like her body didn't have enough power to run her mind and attend to the work it was doing below. She breathed shakily, trying to be present through the fog of pain and anxiety.\n\n\n\"Kate, Kate, Kate, Kate....\" Sarah wanted to say more, say everything, but her mouth kept getting stuck on one word.\n\n\nKate bent over and kissed Sarah's clammy brow.\n\n\n\"There, there...\" She said helplessly, tears streaming down her face.\n\n\n\"We're going to have to proceed if you are still sure you want to do this.\" The nurse said, \"The baby is crowning, and the OB is on his way.\"\n\n\n\"You don't have to...\" Jake said, his voice as tight as an overtuned guitar string.\n\n\n\"Stop.\" Kate said, her voice firmer than Sarah had ever heard it. \"I couldn't live with myself if your little girl ended up one of those.... I want to do this. Second chance either way, right?\"\n\n\nAt her feat, Sarah was vaguely aware of the doctor getting ready, putting on gloves and getting into position. At her side, the nurse was lowering Kate into a padded chair and painting her arm with iodine, as if that would matter soon.\n\n\n\"I have to remind you there aren't any guarantees.\" The nurse murmured softly.\n\n\n\"Shut up about that.\" Jake ordered. \"We know all about it.\"\n\n\n\"Best. Sister.\" Sarah gasped as a fresh wave of pain clamped down on her.\n\n\n\"I know.\" Kate smiled weakly, bending awkwardly to kiss Sarah's forehead again while the nurse held her arm under the syringe. \"Be a better mom than ours was, okay?\"\n\n\n\"Promise!\" Sarah gasped. \n\n\n\"We need you to push now.\" The doctor said, as the nurse depressed the plunger. Jake rushed to pull Sarah's knees back toward her chest. She tried to concentrate on the feeling of the weakening hand still holding hers, but soon the labor was all she was. Press down, two, three, release her breath and again. After an eternity measured in three second intervals, something inside her released, and a warm, cone-headed infant was being propped on her chest.\n\n\nAs the doctors tended to the afterbirth, Sarah peered intently at her daughter's face.\n\n\n\"Hey. Hey, sweety. Hey, lovely girl. Look at mama. Look at me, baby.\" \n\n\nJake's big, calloused hand gripped her shoulder, leaning for support as he too watched with anxious eyes.\n\n\nThe baby struggled weakly, looking for the confining walls it was so used to. Breathing in uneaven gasps, it mewled softly, then tentatively raised a tiny eyelid before quickly clamping it shut again.\n\n\n\"I saw it.\" Jake pronounced, \"Our little girl has a soul.\" His hand grew heavier on Sarah's shoulder and she felt him quiver as the burden of his anxiety left him in wracking sobs.\n\n\nSarah smiled as she bundled the crying baby closer to her. \"Shush. Shush now, Kate, mama's here.\"\n" ]

[ 1, 2, 3 ]

[ "1421673240", "1421672547", "1421673806" ]

[ "\"Is that some kind of joke?\" The man scowled.\n\nI returned his gaze with an equally stiff expression.\n\n\"Not at all.\" Yep. That seemed to hit the spot.\n\nIt was quick and most people wouldn't have noticed, but I wasn't most people. In the briefest moment, his eyes changed from those of a man who took me as a con artist, to those of a man who took me as the world's biggest sucker.\n\nHe extended his hand. Below, a ball cracked against a metal rod. I extended my own hand and we shook. It was a deal.\n\nUnfortunately, things don't always go as planned. At that precise moment, my new business partner fell to the ground. There was a noise, and a white-and-red blur sped down and onto the stairs, where it kept a steady momentum. There, on the ground between us, was what I could only assume was the poor fellow's wallet. In an effort to prevent a thief from snatching whatever money he had been carrying, I took it upon myself to safeguard his funds. Discreetly, of course. I didn't want people going and getting the wrong impression.\n\nIt happened in an instant and I took my leave before the gasps had reached a sufficient volume as to trigger the arrival of paramedics. I continued to watch the game, very *carefully*, and, in a record-setting comeback, my team won!\n\nLet it never be said that I am unfair. If I am to be faulted with anything, let it be my *impatience.*\n\n---\n\n*Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, feel free to read my other prompt responses [here](https://calebdoeswords.wordpress.com/).*", "Alright. So, my name doesn't really matter, and honestly, it would probably make it easy for thugs to find me. I was born with a unique talent. Not some mundane skill, not natural talent, or anything you'd think of outside of a comic book. I can move shit with my mind. Now, because I know that some government or another would make it their mission to track me down, dissect me, and figure out how to replicate me, I've been fairly careful about not making that skill too well known. Lifted a few skirts during high school, played a few practical jokes. I fucked up though. I'll explain how.\nSo, I'm not exactly the most hard working guy out there. Fairly lazy actually. I dropped out of college after freshman year. Not a particularly good choice. Jobs were hard to come by. And then I started making bets with people. Of course, being the starving person I was, I rigged the bets. Made sure that I won. I got good at recognizing how far I could push people before I had to move on. It was good money. I managed to break even on my debts. Pay off the student loan, pay rent, eat decently even. I was comfortable. And then I got fucking greedy. I went to the casino, started rigging the roulette wheels and the slot machines. I spent weeks studying the engineering for them, not quite as lazy now that I knew how much money I could make. I pushed my luck, got kicked out of a few casinos. \nThis is when I realized that I could make even more money by finding people that made bets on sporting events. Make some ridiculous bet with a huge payoff, and throw some money at it. Stupid, I know. Needless to say I got more and more stupid. I wound up having to use my power to stop some people from killing me for taking too much of their money. Now they know. I think they sold the secret to the government too. I've had some close calls. I've left everyone I know and love, left my life, my name, everything I owned. But I'm alive. Probably only because they want me alive, but still. \nMy name use to be Henry Jacobson. Now it's whatever name I can take at the time. I used to live in a solid house in San Fran. Now I live in a small apartment at an undisclosed location. I used to make bank through bets. Now I lift wallets from a distance. I fucked up.\n\nTo anyone else like me, anyone with any special ability, don't get greedy, don't get caught. Don't. Fuck. Up. Good luck." ]

[ 3, 5 ]

[ "1421710844", "1421709525" ]

[ "\"He's not that good\" he used to say. This was almost a motto he mumbled every time I did something out of the ordinary. A remarkable example that I recall is me saying to a group of friends that we needed sun to not breaks our bones. He had said that was not true. I explained to him our bodies get vitamin D from the sunlight and that was beneficial for our bones. We had never talked about that in school, but somehow I knew it. He didn't like the fact that other people could know stuff that he didn't.\n\nHe would undermine me in every step of my way. \"He's not even close to be good with the sciences. I give him credit for knowing like 3 languages and for writing pretty well, but he's not good with science.\" I remember him saying this over and over. I was the kind of guy that would just ace tests without studying, just because I had read something about the questions in there.\n\nI used to be the best in maths, but that was the thing where he surpassed me. There was a point I didn't care anymore about school and that's when he started pulling ahead. I'm actually back on that track now.\n\nHe's not my nemesis. I actually still consider him to be a friend. He's different now, though. I could handle what everyone called *envy*. Yes, he used to envy me, they said. That's probably why he wanted to knock me down just a bit. I don't believe he wanted to take me down for good. But he did. At least for 2 and a half years. Well not him directly, but he influenced it. *Or so everyone thought, I knew I didn't lose MY battle there.*\n\nFrom the first day of elementary school to the last day of high school we were classmates. More than that: we were best friends. When grades started to matter(high school), he got competitive. I am competitive by nature myself. I was used to be the best until that point and I didn't want to stop there. Truth is I did stop there, because my *nemesis* did that to me. It's called *pressure*.\n\nThat's something I can't handle well if it's not the good kind of pressure. I love to feel pressure when I have to speak publicly, I love to feel pressure when everyone expects me to perform in a team game/sport, but there's one kind of pressure I can't handle. No, it's not peer pressure, I've been dealing with that for a long time and still manage it pretty well. It's parent pressure.\n\nI succumbed to that pressure. I wasn't good anymore. I was just above average. There was a voice inside my head everyday I got home. \"I liked it more when you were always the best in everything in school, son\" the voice would say. \"Well, then why did you tell me there was no money for college even if I had a perfect GPA?\"\n\nI still had to perform to a certain standard for my own sake. And I always did. I finished high school with a 16 out of 20 point average. He did with a 14 out of 20 I believe. We actually ended up going to the same university. Engineering school, both with projects for 5 years, major and master's degrees. He was Environmental and I was Biochemistry.\n\nOnce we got there I loved the ambient, he loved the people and the classes. I loved everything around me(visually - the infrastructures, the mass of people and the equipment), there was so much to talk about. But I couldn't relate to any of the people there and the classes soon followed. He had been right all along: \"He's not even close to be good with the sciences. I give him credit for knowing like 3 languages and for writing pretty well, but he's not good with science.\". It's not that I wasn't good with the sciences, I just didn't love them. I *liked all* of them, but I *didn't love* them.\n\nTwo and a half years later, he's still in the same university completing his major and he already has a master's to work on next year. And I... Well I spent those two and a half years *researching* like I used to before we went to college. I would spend my days reading about things other people proved to be facts and ideas other people had. But these two and a half years... I spent them *researching* about myself. I read, I exercised, I wrote and I wrote more and I started to not *like* writing anymore, I started to *love* it.\n\nHe helped me in his own way. He helped me find myself. I had to cope with so many things my entire life and my best way to cope with those things was writing. Now, writing is all I want to do. I'm looking to major in Foreign Literature and Cultures(that's how we call it here) so I can learn more about the English and Spanish speaking people/countries and so I can interact with people who share the same interests and ideas with me.\n\nHe helped me find the thing I love and I hope I can thank him somewhere down the road. We haven't been talking lately, I actually feel like we don't know each other anymore, but deep down I feel like I owe him something. Maybe I'll buy him a beer and offer him a copy of one of the two books I'm working on so he can be one of my beta readers. Maybe he'll *envy* those and make them reach they're true potential with his critics. Guess he knew it all along: \"He's not even close to be good with the sciences. **I give him credit for knowing like 3 languages and for writing pretty well**, but he's not good with science.\"\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n**Didn't worry about it much. Just started typing and typing. No edition, just straight out of my thoughts. This is 100% truthful and I really am grateful to him. Sorry for misspelled words or grammar errors, as you can see if you read everything I'm not a native Englishman so mistakes can happen if I don't go back to edit. I didn't want to do it this time, since I'm the actual narrator of the prompt. It feels right to not change anything. BTW, he's not the *worst rival*, just an healthy, friendly and competitive one. But I never really had any other person I could call a rival, so I guess he's both the *best* and the *worst* rival.**", "\"Guilty.\" The judge said. The hammer hit the gavel with a loud wooden clack. \"I sentence you to ten years imprisonment.\"\n\nThe words rang out and hung heavy in the air. I looked up just a fraction of an inch through my fringe, which I'd spent all morning hiding behind. Through the gap in the thin wisps of my hair, I watched him. \n\nHim, my father. The man who had raised me. The man who had broken me. The man I had now beaten.\n\nI watched him standing in the dock, trembling with the realisation that he was going to spend the next decade in a cell. I watched the man I'd considered a beast, shrinking away to nothing in front of me. *I've done it.* I thought, *I've won.* I felt tears well up. His head jerked up and his eyes met mine. I saw the briefest, saddest smile cross his face before I looked away and buried my face in my hands to sob.\n\nIt had started when I was fourteen. Until then, he'd been a fantastic dad. Always been close, cuddling me and telling me how I was his favourite. *His* little girl. In a house with two brothers to compete with, it made me glow to know he thought of me like that. \n\nOne night he'd come to my bedroom. I thought it was for a goodnight kiss. But then he'd started to touch me, in places I knew weren't right. Places I'd only been touched by Chad Ramirez when I was a bit younger, but I'd slapped his hands and told him to stop. This time, I tried to speak but found my voice cracked with fear. My father reeked of booze. He had a sad smile on his face.\n\n\"My little girl.\" He'd repeated. Over and over. For three years.\n\nI ran away at seventeen. Nobody would have believed me anyway. It was a crushing kind of pressure, his weight on me each night. He smothered me with it, and the influence on my life smothered my brain. I couldn't think my way out. Brothers? No go - they adored our father. Our mother died when we were very young, so again no options there.\n\nSo I'd ran.\n\nI ran as far as any seventeen year old girl could. When I ran out of cash, I did what any desperate girl would do to make money. I remember crying in front of a sleazy motel mirror for a solid hour after that. \n\nAfter that - months turned into years. I was constantly looking over my shoulder. Waiting for him to come to me on nights. The dark terrified me. Drinking appalled me. I had nightmares of his voice, tender and sweet while he tore my insides up. \n\n\"My little girl...\"\n\nThen I found my strength. I stopped doing awful stuff with strangers for cash. I collected all of my money. I studied law. Sure, I wasn't educated enough to get a real job as a lawyer or a barrister. But I was a hard-worker, and like I've said - I was desperate. I landed a job as a legal secretary. \n\nEven then, I was afraid. I kept imagining him bursting through the doors of the office. Laughing at me. I daydreamed about what he would say. \n\n\"My little girl wearing grown-up suits? Take 'em off.\" \n\nOne day, enough was enough. I went to the police. Relief. It felt like a stone I'd carried around for years just fell away from me, cast away into an ocean of misery that had threatened to drown me for all of those years. \n\nAnd now, in the court-room, I'd done it. I'd won. He was going to jail. And not just for a few months, or a year. *Ten years.* The judge had said. My brothers had testified that he'd beaten them regularly, especially after I had left them. The judge had uncovered a catalogue of abuse from a man who, to the public, had seemed an upstanding citizen.\n\nAnd now I watch through my fringe as my father is led away. The man who'd called me \"his special little girl.\" Who'd cuddled me at nights when I was a child, told me stories and stroked my hair. The man who'd began to abuse me. To rape me. To destroy me. \n\nI watch him led away through the shield of my hair and the gap in my hands. I can't help but cry.\n\nFuck you, daddy. But also...in some ways, thank you. You made me strong. ", "I started to write this one, and then I realized I was writing about my brother. I just had this realization IRL. God dammit. sorry i wont be writing this story. I'm going to go call my brother and tell him I love him. " ]

[ 1, 3, 10 ]

[ "1421844479", "1421841522", "1421839452" ]

[ "She was dead. I was not sad, nor was I crying. Maybe it would have hurt years ago but not today, not now. \n\nBack then she used to talk to us, treat us like her own special slice of heaven, like we mattered to her. She used to laugh at my jokes, come home with a smile, leave with a kiss. She lost all of that when the baby was born. She lost the sparkle in the eye, the love in her smile, and the passion in her heart. \n\nAs the baby grew and matured she became more secluded, drawing herself away from the family. I remember, she used to leave the house often, say she was going on walks with a friend for and hour or two at a time. \"To get in shape\" she always said. My heart turned to ice. I talked to my sister, argued with her for a long time. She was right though, in the end. It looked a lot like she was cheating. \n\nI cried that night for the first time in a long time. The realization was too much for me. The evidence was there. I realized then, too, that even when she was there she really wasn't. She spent her time talking to friends and coworkers on social media sites. Watching crime shows and dramas on the television. When I told her about my day I could tell she wasn't listening, her mistimed \"mhmm\"s and head nods told the whole story. She didn't care and enough to even pretend she was interested. It didn't even occur to me at the time.\n\nThe baby grew older, matured, and I began to resent him for taking her away. I hated him for a long time, a scapegoat for the troubles of the world. In the end though I realized it didn't matter. It wasn't his choice to snuff the fire in her soul. It wasn't his choice to fracture our relationship to an unrepairable extent, for even though time heals all wounds it would still carry an ugly red scar for the rest of our lives.\n\nSo I forgave the baby eventually. It wasn't him, but rather his conception that took the life from her. She handled her own situation poorly, hurt those around her, all for her own selfish desires.\n\nWhen my mother died, I wasn't sad. I didn't cry. Not for her at least. I cried for my little brother, who had taken my hate, my distain for years of his life, all unjustly directed towards him. And I cried for my dad. Through all the mistrust, betrayal, and sadness, he still loved my mother more than anyone in the world.\n\nEdit: Words", "He was dead. I was not sad, nor crying. \n\nI was envious. \n\nHe had the courage, the ability to do what I’d fantasized about doing for the past year. But I was too much of a coward. Just a handful of pills. That was the neatest way, but the least reliable. A bullet through my forehead would be quick, quick, just a light flicking off. It would be beautiful. But if I misfired then I’d just be trapped in a scarred body, the cloying scent that masks the scent of death suffocating me. \n\nDeath. I could taste it: nothingness. It would be like never existing. My consciousness would be no more. Nothing tastes like the word on the tip of your tongue; you know it's almost there but it just hasn’t set in yet. It tastes like wistfulness. It tastes like beauty. \n\nHe was gone. People would forget him. He gets to not exist. He gets to not live. \n\n\nFuck him. \n", "He was dead. I was not sad, nor crying. \n\nI breathed heavily as I moved back from the body lying on the floor, pain flowed through me with my every move. I didn’t expect him to put up a fight, they usually don’t. I examined my work. It was a little messy, but it was the best I could do with my supplies. I don’t know why my employer was so insistent on me only using a wooden stake, but I never questioned him. The customer’s always right. The one good thing about it was that there was no gunshot, which means no one heard and no one called the cops. I took time to catch my breath, getting extra clean up time was rare and I was going to take advantage of it. After a few minuets, I went to remove the weapon from the victim’s body. \n\nThat’s when I heard him breathing.", "She was dead. I was not sad, nor crying. In fact, I was excited.\n\n\"GUYS!!! COME HERE, I FOUND ONE!\"\n\nThe team rushed in, grabbing their lamps. Everyone was completely covered in thermal suits. The temperature was minus 30 Celcius.\n\nWe all looked at her. She had been completely preserved by the permafrost. It was the perfect specimen. Now all that remained was to see whether she had been frozen fast enough so that ice crystals wouldn't form inside her cells.\n\n\"We'll have to take a tissue sample\"\n\n\"Is a piece of the pinky fine?\" one asked.\n\n\"Sure, just be careful.\"\n\nThe analysis only took one minute. After the analysis was finished, the machine displayed the results.\n\nICE CRYSTALS FOUND INSIDE THE CELLS.\n\n\"Damn it\", I shouted. \"Can the brain be savaged?\"\n\n\"I think so.\"\n\n\"Excellent. Let's just pack the head. Wait! Take a picture of her, we need to preserve her looks.\"\n\nWe carefully put the head in the cryo-container. It looked ridiculous, having to use a cryogenic container for an already-frozen specimen, but it was obvious that after a few kilometers of travel, we would reach the comfortable temperature of the labs.\n\nWe came in.\n\n\"Well? Did you find one?\"\n\n\"Yes, doctor.\"\n\n\"Excellent!!!\", the bearded man shouted. \"Sex? Age?\"\n\n\"Female, around her thirties. But her cells didn't get preserved, she froze too slowly.\"\n\n\"Oh, dear.\"\n\n\"We have the brain.\"\n\n\"Ah!! That changes everything! Put it on the scanner. In a few hours, we'll be able to replicate her brain.\"\n\n\"We took a picture, for the body.\"\n\n\"Good, good!\", said the doctor. \"Maybe we'll be able to decipher now what happened to mankind five centuries ago.\"\n\n\"Finally\", I said. \"I'm getting tired of this freezing hell. When are we going back to Terra Nova?\"\n\n\"Oh, just four months, don't worry.\"\n\n\"What??? Another Four months???\"\n\n\"Oh, didn't I tell you? We're supposed to explore the southern hemisphere, too!\"\n\nFuck my life.", "He was dead. \nI was not sad, nor crying. \n\nWe had lived together for years in a mutual relationship. Some would call it symbiotic, but I knew better, it was parasitic. He would lead and I would follow. I'd suggest pizza for dinner, he'd go buy it. Sadly we would also fight about the stupidest things and he never listened to any of my real advice. \n\nAt one point he turned to drugs, I pleaded with him to stop, telling him that there were too many thing to see and do to waste his life. \"I know what I'm doing\" he said. \n\nHow many times did he say that as he grew weaker each day? \n\nThe drugs slowly destroyed him and I started to accept that he wouldn't stop until he was dead. And now he's gone. \n\nI still have the bottle of pills that killed him with me. \nI've read the label so many times I have it memorized. \n[Perphenazine.](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Perphenazine)", "She (or he) was dead. I was not sad, nor crying.\n\nYou see, even at the tender age of 4 I had a firm grasp on life and death and all its implications. Suffice it to say my parents were slightly perturbed at my apparent apathy to the death of a goldfish. \n\nWhat I didn't have a firm grasp on was biology; namely fish biology. There has never been a so-called \"gender-neutral\" name which appealed to me. I despise all \"Jesse\"s and \"Pat\"s. Some try to get around \"Lauren\" and \"Loren\" by claiming to hear some slight variation in that first rounded, sickening vowel, but I'm not sure I believe it. But I digress.\n\nMy parents were of no help. Despite my insistence that I could not name the fish without knowing its biological nature, the two of them indulgingly suggested I simply name the fish \"fish.\" I nearly vomited. \n\nSo for the following year my parents had called the fish \"fish\" while I also called the fish \"fish\" but only because that is what the fish was. To them it was a name, an identity. To me it was a label, nothing more.\n\nStudy of the specimen had yielded little results. Despite regular feedings and various proddings with kitchen instruments, fish had refused to give up its secrets. \n\nSo an accident was staged. \n\nLuckily my mother had the bad habit of leaving kitchen knives near the kitchen counter. Oh, I don't mean to say this was lucky because I could access it. No, I'd learned to organize the kitchen drawers or pull over a dining room chair ages before. Her placement of the blade provided sufficient justification for my excuse for why fish had been cut in two. \n\nOf course I had simply been on my way to get a snack, and had happened to bring fish's bowl with me, and had happened to place it on the floor by the counter, and had happened to accidentally kick the knife off the counter in my quest for pop tarts, and it had happened to perfectly bisect fish in its downward arc. Too easy.\n\nOf course fish was already dead and cut when I had placed the bowl below the counter, but no one would suspect such a young adolescent of such planning. \n\nSo I did not cry as fish was lowered into the ground in the shoebox in which my new school-shoes came. I was not sad. Fish was gone, and while I did not know whether fish had been male or female, I had learned some interesting tidbits about fish biology. \n\nSo all in all, I suppose fish had been a good pet." ]

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

[ "1421861860", "1421862418", "1421862839", "1421864335", "1421869556", "1421859416" ]

[ "He said it'd be easy. He said it was get the gold, put it in S.T.E.V.E., surface and get paid. Sounded too good to be true. I should have seen the red flags after the captain handed everyone guns and flares. The flares I could understand, we were heading into dark waters off the Mexican coast. The guns were 'for our protection.' The question should have been \"From What?\" but the payoff was too great to remind myself of the consequences.I was already on the boat out to the diving location before I had the chance to say uncle. The captain drove our poorly-maintained boat out to open water. I sat with the most rag-tag group of people i've ever seen, even for this part of the country. \n\nOne's a Puerto Rican wanna be club runner who looks like this is a summer job to him. Slicked black hair and enough perfume to gag a department store. We got to talking and he seemed genuine enough. Turns out he's on the wrong side of the cartels and needs to pay protection money or find his head on a sidewalk, impaled. Yeesh. Don't envy him none. \n\nThe lady of our group could pass as a Sports Illustrated model, but she had her eyes on the gold. I asked her about her personal life as we awaited the plunge, but the icy stare of \"go fuck yourself\" was prominent. If looks could draw blood, she could slaughter armies. Something tells me I should keep tabs on her for my safety. \n\nThe only other diver in the midst was an old sailor who saw war-time action. Kept to himself mostly, but did crack a joke or two on the hour trip to the dive spot. As we entered the shark cage, he mentioned in passing it'd be his last dive before retirement. Good on him. From the multiple scars, it looks like he could use it. \n\nAs the cage was lowered into the water, the captain shouted to us \"Oh and... be careful of sharks.\" Odd thing to say as we slipped into the murky water. Suddenly there were numbers above everyone's heads. 30 divers. $800 each. 30 sharks. \n\nOh no. \n\n>Depth", "I wake up in a dark, cold, hallway. The walls are made of stone and the amount of must indicated that I must be underground. I luckily stumble across a lantern. Now I need oil and a light. \n\nI must have woken up in a storeroom because there is oil and flint and tinder aplenty. I light the lantern and re-enter the hallway.\n\nI hear someone shuffling down the hall further down. Without even thinking, I call out to see if whoever it is can help me get out of here. The shuffling stops. I raise my lantern to get a better look at the figure.\n\nThe light illuminates a figure I know all too well. No, this can't be. That's a video game. What the hell is going on. I must be going insane.\n\nI see the Gatherer running at me. I'm frozen, petrified in my fear and shock. \n\nWith a metallic clank, my lantern falls to the ground.", "I awoke. I was in a palace of some sort, with beautiful marble columns. I had no clue where I was. Hung over, I stretched, and got up. All around me were furs and hides that clashed horribly with the elegance of the room. But when I brushed my hand against one of the pillars, and realized that the bricks were not marble, but ivory. Terrified I stumbled back. As I fell, my flailing arm pushed open the door. Seeing a balcony through the aperture, I dragged myself outside. Looking across the city, I could see aqueducts and mosques, but in the middle of the city was an enormous mesa. Instead of building atop it, the people had apparently carved a structure similar to Petra. As I admired the view, someone must have approached me; I jumped ten feet in the air as an pretty Indian woman put her hand on my shoulder. I knew where I was the second she addressed me as \"Khan\": I was in Mongolia. The year was 1584. After years of war with the Celts, they had come to an uneasy peace. It was more like a cease-fire, really. Under Mongol command was Mexico and Denmark, whose riches were being used to feed mighty armies of cavalry. I knew this because I had built this empire from nothing- just on my computer, not with the blood of horsemen. \n", "*Braaaaiiiiiiins.*\n\nAh! What? What was that? Where am I? I'm... In my bedroom. It feels different, though. Somewhat cleaner. It has a very uncanny valley approach to it. Like this isn't really the world I belong to.\n\n*BRAAAAAIIIIIINS.*\n\nI know that sound. I've heard it a million times before. I walk over to the open window and look out to see what kind of hell I've found myself in.\n\nA zombie. Standing still in the middle of my lawn, wearing a tattered suit and tie. But just one? Well, that's easy enough. I've played plenty of zombie games before. This should be a piece of cake. I go to my closet and look for a weapon. Any kind of blunt object should be able to knock that son-of-a-bitch into next week. Aim for the head. Always a good start.\n\nWhat the hell is this? Fertilizer? Seeds? A watering can? I guess I could smash him over the head with...\n\n*Braaaaains.*\n\nI hear him start to shuffle towards the house. Now I know where I am. I always wondered how this would work in real life. I run downstairs and find an assortment of pots, seeds, watering cans, and gas tanks. I look in my garage and find several lawn mowers. My pool out back has waterproof vacuums. This should work out nicely.\n\nGoing to my fridge I see the contents clearly. Mushrooms. Tons of them. I'll need those later tonight. Lily pads soaking in water. They'll be helpful for my pool. I grab a rake, a shovel, sunflower seeds, a watering can, and run out back. The zombie is halfway to my house by now.\n\nI don't know how quickly this will work, but I need to be efficient. I throw the rake onto the lawn in the zombie's path. I dig a hole in the ground and plant a sunflower seed. I pour some water onto it and wait.\n\nThe zombie is inching closer. I can't fight him by myself, but I can set up some self-defense. I pull out a lawn mower and put it in front of the door, fill up the gas tank, and rev it up. It stays still, but doesn't shut off. Perfect.\n\nThe zombie finally approaches the door, reaches out to grab me...\n\n*Braiiiiiiiins!* **POP.**\n\nThe rake hits it in the head, taking it off completely. The zombie falls down. Phew. That was easy.\n\nA creaking sound is heard as the sunflower sprouts from the ground. A ray of sunshine comes down upon the sunflower as it looks up and smiles at me.\n\n**BRAAAAAAAAAINS.**\n\nThree more zombies have appeared. I pull out three pea shooter seeds from my pockets and pick up my shovel.\n\nI hope these plants can really stop zombies.", "\"Wh.. what is this place?\" I asked. But of course, I recognized it. I was on the rooftop of Princess Peach's castle. I shook my head and looked around. Somehow, I could jump pretty high so I did just that as I climbed the rooftop higher to get a better view of the other side of the roof. On the other side, I saw what looked to be a man-girl with a tiara wielding a rather large sword. \"Marth?\" I asked aloud. Marth turned around and said, \"Minna, miteite kure!\" Suddenly, he did a sort of sliding motion against the ground and jumped, raising his sword. I let out a shout as a hand reached out and gave me a bomb with legs and a face. I threw it straight at him. It exploded, and he was sent flying away into the stratosphere. I could hear him scream as I watched his flailing figure fade into the distance.\n\nI looked behind me to see who had given me the bomb. It was princess peach. She said, \"Hi!\" I could see that she was wearing red- the same color shirt I was wearing. Suddenly, everything went dark. I heard a booming voice chant, \"The winner is.. Red Team!\" Peach said, \"Ohhh, did I win?\" I looked around the black landscape and saw Marth clapping a few feet behind me. \n\nMatch time: 3:32. Game time left: 71:56:28.", "I woke up with my head throbbing. Each bump of the cart exacerbated my hangover exponentially. I recognized that my hands were bound when a fellow prisoner addressed me. He was a soldier assigned as a personal guard for his sovereign and we had front row seats to the execution.\n\nAnother prisoner would not stop complaining about how unfair this was and that he was innocent of the crimes in which we were all accused. He was going to die; I had seen it many times. I knew what was in store and stoically maintained my wits. As far as the other prisoners and my captors were aware, I accepted my fate. I didn't...\n\nThe rest if the game introduction had passed. It seemed much faster as I lived it, rather than waiting for the action to start. They executed the first prisoner. I almost vomited when I saw his head roll into the basket. The Imperial Officer called me forward. I walked slowly and stood at the chopping block before being forced to my knees. This would be the hardest part... My stomach clenched when the dragon attacked.\n\nThe prisoner from my wagon helped me to my feet and led me to safety. I knew the route by heart: run up the tower stairs, take cover, jump onto the thatched roof, cross the house, link up with one if my former captors. His priority is surviving the dragon and he did acknowledge that I was not on the slate for execution before his superior dictated it. He led me to safety from the dragon. I then had to choose between red and blue. I opted for the faction that did not have me one the chopping block.\n\nI let him lead me through Helgan Keep and the tunnels underneath, keeping my distance as he plows through the Imperials. I loot their corpses taking anything of value, as much as I can carry. He eventually leads me to the Town of Riverwood. I sell the loot, and then enact my genius plan to survive for three days of survival: I stay put.\n\nThe Sleeping Giant Inn has rooms for rent at 10 septums per night. I've been offered a short term job chopping firewood. The blacksmith has even offered to teach me his trade when I inquired. Hard days of labor, new skills and a cheap room. If my presence last longer than that, I might be in trouble, or not considering how much wood I can chop...", "\"Evif\" The voice was scratchy, and sounded like a chipmunk had a child with a chew toy. It was in my ear. It needed to not be. I was sleeping.\n\n\"Ruof\" It sounded like language, none I've ever heard. It placed the emphasis on all the wrong syllables. When did my bed get so short?\n\n\"Eerth\" I shouted at it to stop. It smelled like glue. Then I noticed my bed starting to rumble. Wait what the fuc-\n\n\"Owt\" I jolted upright, or tried, I was held down by straps, and in front of me sat an array of buttons and a big ball like device. I swear I could recognize it. It was important. The rumble turned into a roar.\n\n\"Eno\" NavBall! My head was promptly thrown back against the headrest.\n\nFuck I hope I remembered the god damned parachutes.\n\n(Kerbal Space Program)", "I opened my eyes and the first time I saw her, My heart beat so fast I thought it would explode. \n\nHer eyes were like sapphires, bright and entrancing. Her lips red as ruby, hair long and curled around her chin. A cute and perky nose. \n\nI knew I had to get her attention, impress this amazing woman, and make her mine. \n\nAll around me there was chaos and confusion. Noise, so much noise, hard to hear anything. \n\nDid I hear her call my name? In the confusion, I find something sharp. Maybe I can use it?\n\nEverything happens so quickly, now my beloved is drenched in liquid. I am embarrassed, I caused this. \n\nMy beloved turns to me and says \"Larry, what did I tell you?\"", "You are in a dark room, and you see text in front of you... \"You wake up and find you have suddenly been teleported to the last video game you played and must survive for the next 72 hours.\"\n\nYou sit there, praying that you played minecraft in your last gaming session....\n\nYou open the door. GTA V. Fuck...", "I wake in a strangely opulent double-bed, a bed I did not go to sleep in. The room around me looks like something out of the Sherlock Holmes TV-series, the old one of course. I get out of the bed, out of the bedroom and down the stairs. This place seems so oddly familiar, like I've been here before. What is that smell? Pancakes? I decide to the follow the smell and find the kitchen. A women dressed in what looks like a bunnysuit is eating pancakes next to a man dressed in a thong. I cautiously try to greet them. The woman looks up and says ''*Gabba Gabba, Jo Den? Jiflar!*'' What? That gibberish seems familiar, she simply points to the pancakes. I take a plate of pancakes and go to eat. They are delicious. I look outside the window and notice that the man in the thong is drowning in a pool and I finally recognize where I am.\n\nThis is the manor I built for my Sims in the Sims 3 in a Steam-Victorian style. This is going to be fun.", "A bright redness shines through my eyelids, and I try turning away, but a glass dome around my head prevents it. Startled, I open my eyes, momentarily blinded by a star's brilliance. I try to shield my face with my hand, but discover a heavy glove and armature restricts my movements. My vision clears, and I see...I see black, and little white points of light, like faraway stars. I try to turn around, but my squirming leads me to a far more startling discovery, I'm floating! I'm in space!! Panicked flailing leads to controls being set off, and the thruster pack I now feel on my back rockets me to my left, limbs trailing uselessly. I smudge my face into my helmet to see where I'm heading, and finally everything clicks. I mash the controls in my glove, and my backpack stops accelerating me towards certain doom. I'm still going too fast however, and as I scream through my final moments, rocketing towards a crashed red ship, I realized I could have turned on my inertial dampeners. Splat.", "The Sunless Sea shone black through the light of the oil-lamp.\n\nGod help us all. \n\nThough a man of the book, heavy with the understanding of the things that should not be, I was unprepared. \n\nMy iron in the fire, it proved weak for the environment I was in. God help us all.\n\nThey call me mad, you know. I speak to them about things like the \"internet\", of \"computers\". They only whisper, speaking to each other as if I have stared too long into the Dawn Machine. \n\nThank God for the small things. I have become a drunk, and a caffeine addict, welcome in the Khanate and little else. \n\nGod help my soul.", "Sirens blare from the deck as a plane rises from the interior, I find myself strapped into the cockpit as a voice comes through the headset, it says that I am clear for take off. Hardly. Filling my lungs, I firmly grasp the controls and rocket upwards towards the ivory ceiling above, leveling off as my wing leaves small puffs in its wake. I stare out into the yellow tinted sky, small tufts obscuring the otherwise fair view. The sun gleams magnificently across the water as heavy slugs pierce the undercarriage, returning my focus to the events at hand.\n\n“What happened?” I yell into the microphone hoping for some response.\n\n“You have several hostiles coming in hot, watch out for their shots, the plane won't take many.” the base responds.\n\n“Oh really?! Any more pearls of wisdom?” I respond as several more shots narrowly miss the plane.\n\n“Well, it would be easier to take them out if you could get them in a group, up close. You won't have as much luck if you're trying to take them all out one by one.” the commander responds, taking over the communication line.\n\n“I think I've got an idea, wish me luck.” I say, exhaling and driving the plane into a sharp dive for the glimmering water below.\n\n“Godspeed.” he responds.\n\nSeveral bandits follow close behind, falling into a steep dive to keep up with my unreasonable maneuvers. The speed of my descent sends waves in opposing directions from the nose, as I pull upward into an impossible climb touching the surface by mere inches. Continuing the insane climb, I glance backward to see that one plane has succumb to the sea and takes another along with it. Even more impressive are the ones who have managed to remain on my tail, firing the occasional shot that misses spectacularly.\n\nRacing towards the clouded ceiling, I simply let go and stall. Falling out of the sky, my enemies race past directly into my sights. Pulling the trigger, my guns fill them full of shrapnel as they explode like fireworks in the sky. Cheers and commendations ring out from the headset as the plane levels once more under my control. I can't help but laugh and cheer that my bold strategy was successful as I live to fight another day.\n\n“Careful, there's a large bogey ahead on the water's surface. We have no visual confirmation of its identity or status. Assume it is hostile. I repeat, assume it is hostile.” the base instructs.\n\nNodding my head in confirmation, I bring the plane low, leaving a wake behind as I destroy one small ship after another, taking little fire in return. Shortly after, a massive metal ship appears in my view, I pull up to avoid the hail of fire sent my way. It continues firing, two streams of massive shots zooming past my craft until they hit. First one, then another, and several more. My plane begins to smoke and catch fire as I fight to retain control and leave in one piece. Escaping just beyond range, my plane recovers much to my surprise.\n\n“Er, Commander?” I question.\n\n“Yes, what is it?” he responds.\n\n“My plane has been hit by the battleship, it nearly tore my plane to shreds. Somehow, it seems...fine...now?” I retort uncertainly.\n\n“It's our newest technology, pilot. If you keep your plane dry, at a reasonable height, and do not tax it by running your firing systems, it should self-heal in a few minutes or more depending on the damage.” he replies with a great deal of pride.\n\n“That is...amazing!” I cry as I make another pass for the hulking battleship, guns pulsing along the way.\n\n“Yes pilot. We know.” he says before closing the communication line once more.\n\nRiddling the hull with shells, the ship continues firing as I narrowly swerve between shots to avoid taking damage. The ship looks unharmed from the bullet storm that is raining down upon it and my frustration mounts as another pass seems to have little added effect. Leaving the ship in the distance, it suddenly explodes into a marvelous fireball as a large aircraft seemingly floats into sight. My heart stops as cannon-like blasts emanate from the strange object, aiming directly for me.\n\nThe engine roars as I put distance between it and myself, destroying small planes and boats along the way. It continues the assault from below, hovering in place with its guns pointed to the skies. Jerking the controls, I throw my plane into a spin and land several shots before pointing forwards and blasting away. My only hope is a war of attrition, with its heavy firepower and durability, it would easily survive a fight with twelve planes of my size. I continue to chip away until it begins showing signs of wear, finally circling it like a bird of prey stalking a wounded animal. Shards erupt from the ragged frame falling into the waters below.\n\n“Good work, pilot. Your work is done he-Wait, what?” the commander speaks before turning his attention to another on board. “Are you certain? Pilot. I have very grave news. There is a vessel of unimaginable proportions rising in the distance. We can't identify it because it doesn't fit on the radar. Not in one piece. Be careful, return safe. Godspeed.” the commander replies solemnly.\n\nAn enormous vessel parts the white sea above and descends just in view, before I can react, several streams of fire erupt from its mounted guns. With a series of well timed stops and bursts of speed, I navigate through the veil, returning fire of my own. It begins launching missiles that lock on to my plane as I drag them to the watery deep. The pilots of this enormous vessel have called in additional support from battleships, jets and the cannon aircraft alike. The sun rises on the third day, the seventy-second hour as my ship is pummeled from all sides.\n\n“Sir, I don't think I'm going to make it back.” I say, choking back tears.\n\n“We will always remember you, LuftRauser.” he responds, their salute reaching through the headset as my heart swells with pride.\n\nI make one final push to bring the enormous dirigible in sight and wait for the final shot. As it rips through my plane, I scream the name I will always be remembered by. The final weapon at my disposal detonates, an enormous blast follows irradiating and disintegrating all foes. I am the LuftRauser.\n\n-021", "It was war. Gunfire going in every direction, death from every angle. We had homefield advantage, endless tree cover, and even beasts of men on our sides, but it never seemed like we were even putting a dent in the enemy forces. We had snipers, demolition, hell, we were always told to strike back just as they did. It seemed like an endless battle and we just kept fighting.\n\nI was told that my sentence to this hell would only last 72 hours along the battlefront, as the sun was setting, I hit 71. I was almost home-free. Like a fool, I began to relax, my body calming at the thought of leaving. The once lush, green forest was now dyed red and littered with corpses. The enemy seemed to retreat, their numbers looked to be thinning. My radio buzzed claims of victory. It was almost over. Behind me, though, I heard screaming. Something broke our lines. Terror-filled cries for help echoed from behind me and were silenced just as quickly as they were made. Before I could move, the monster stood behind me, casting a shadow as black as his soul. His heavy, yet rhythmic panting was almost drowned out by the electronic hum of his weapon. I turned to meet his skully visage. Just before the 72nd hour, he found me, and raised his hand to strike me down.\n\n*Vader...*", "My phone rings and I stagger out of bed towards it. But it's not where I remember putting it, and instead of my apartment, I find myself on a bed in an apartment I've never seen before. Strange. But I know this ringtone, I know it well. It's the Steel Samurai theme. My ringtone isn't that, I can barely change my ringtone, let alone download one. So this isn't my phone. But it is. So I wander towards the noise, taking in the apartment around me. On the wall is a picture I recognise. A man I recognise. Phoenix Wright. Picking up my phone, I hear a familiar voice.\n\n\"Hey Nick, why'd you take a century to answer your phone\"\n\nAll I can do is improvise.\n\n\"What do you want?\" I say, aggressive, and grumpy.\n\n\"Get your butt down to the office, we've got a new case!\" She says and I can hear her grin.\n\n\"Who is it this time?\"\n\n\"Take a wild guess.\"\n\n\"Larry?\" She makes a noncommittal noise in return.\n\nSo I leave the apartment, knowing the next however many days won't have that music I adore, or a save feature. But hey, I'm Phoenix fucking Wright, and I'm gonna love this.", "I closed my eyes. This couldn't be happening.\n\nThe phenomenon first started several months ago - people, usually gamers, started disappearing. They were sometimes honored with npcs modeled after them; The problem was that no dev remembered coding them in.\n\nThe NPCs were indistinguishable from their former selves, and many regarded it as a sort of afterlife. Most people began playing their favorite games obsessively - difficult ones, oftentimes, were ignored. Nobody wanted to face the Zerg, or deal with the Covenant.\n\nAs I examined my new surroundings, I determined that I'd seriously fucked up.\n\n\n On 1/21/2015, at 1:24 PM, John wrote:\n> Hey dude, Dark Souls 2 is on sale. You gonna pick it up?\n\n On 1/21/2015, at 1:28 PM, John wrote:\n> Hello?", "\"Y'all going from the west coast to the east coast!\" Said a voice that sounded oddly familiar. While the voice spoke 'switching sides' appeared in large text in front of me. \n\nDamn, I thought, I had a really good spot, too. Now I have to find a new one. \n\nWhen I spawned in I looked to my left to see the other 5 guys holding a variety of military grade weapons. I had the biggest but it was alright because I didn't plan on using it on anyone, unless they run by me that is. The timer ticked down to zero and my teammates ran out into the battle field. I turned around, walked straight into the corner and put my back to it and waited. This worked for the last 60 hours, it should work for the rest of the time I'm here. ", "“This is the story of a man named Stanley.”\n\n*Wha? Who’s talking? Who’s Stanley? It’s 6AM.*\n\n“Stanley tried to roll over and go back to sleep but found that he could not due to the arms on his chair.”\n\n*There’s that voice again… what chair I’m—*\n\n“Stanley woke up with a start from his short nap to find that it was all just a dream and he was in his office.”\n\n*What the hell happened to my room! Where is this voice coming from?*\n\n“Stanley attempted to speak but found that he could not because the developers couldn’t afford a voice actor for his character.”\n\n*What’s going on! He’s right I can’t talk. Who is narrating everything I do?*\n\n“Stanley looked around his office a little to get his bearings, but he quickly came to his senses and got up from his desk and stepped out of his office.”\n\n*Wait… I didn’t get out of my chair yet… is… is he telling me what to do? This is like that game I just got last night…*\n\n“-ahem- I SAID Stanley got up from his desk and stepped out of his office.”\n\n*Shit shit shit! I only played for like 20 minutes, and every time I tried something I died! What’s going on?*\n\n“Helloooooo Stanley? Are you there?”\n\n*Oh god, I remember this. If I wait too long he’ll change something and I’ll die. That voice has some control of this world… but I can’t go out or I’ll die there as well! No… what if I just close the door.*\n\n“But Stanley just couldn’t handle the pressure. He’d be facing the possibility of being fired by his boss for leaving his post during work hours. What if a crucial outcome fell upon his responsibility? What if he had to make a decision? He had never been trained on that! No, this couldn’t go in any way except badly.”\n\n*Oh god what’s he going on about? I can’t move what’s happening.*\n\n“The right thing to do right now, Stanley thought to himself, is to wait. Nothing will hurt me. Nothing will break me. In here, I can be happy, forever I will be happy.”\n\n\n*Is it getting darker? Oh oh good maybe I can go back just close my eyes…*\n\n“Stanley waited. Hours passed. Then days. Have years gone by? He no longer had the ability to tell. But the one thing that was sure beyond any doubt was that if he waited long enough, the answers would come. Soon. Very soon now, this will end…”\n\n*YES! End this. Get me out of here. I don’t want to be in this game. Oh god why couldn’t I have played Call of Duty or something last night, I’m good at CoD…*\n\n“He will be spoken to, he will be told what to do. Now it’s just a bit closer…”\n\n*yes…*\n\n“Now it’s even closer…”\n\n*come on…*\n\n“Here it comes.”\n\n*I want to be in my room. I want to be in my room…*\n\n“This is the story of a man named Stanley.”\n\n*AAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH*\n\n> The Stanley Parable", "I could have been playing anything, I thought wiping the sweat off again. It's non stop and relentless work, work, work. \n\n\nThe only break comes when I go outside, and then it is a mad scramble for food. I was out after dark yesterday and i started to hear the moans. \n\n\nI guess there could have been worse games to be playing and get teleported into, but damn living in Minecraft can be boring.\n ", "My companion's eyes widened. He stood up and took a single step forward.\n\nI thrust out an arm in his path. \"No!\" I said firmly.\n\nHe pushed past my arm. Drool started to drop from his mouth. He licked his chops with anticipation.\n\nI stood directly in front of him, and flung both arms forward. \"No!\" I desperately repeated.\n\nHe pushed me to the ground and walked right over me, spattering my face with drool as he went.\n\nI stood up and pursued him, but it was too late.\n\nAlready, he was atop the massive tower of candy. His face was smeared with chocolate, his belly bulging, and his mouth overflowing with caramel.\n\n\"Slow down,\" I insisted. \"You'll give yourself a horrific tummy ache.\"\n\n\"It's alright, Brain,\" he said between bites. \"If I eat three of the same candy in a row, it disappears. See?\"\n\nHe grabbed another caramel and popped it in his mouth, and swallowed. Instantly, the bulge in his belly decreased, and several more candies rained down on his head.\n\n\"See Brain, I'm winning!\" he cheered.\n\nI shook my head. Why does Pinky always have to do this to me?\n\n\"Pinky!\" I lectured. \"Why did you have to activate the Digital Simulation Vortex? I told you to wake me up when it was done charging. And why in the world did you choose Candy Cruncher Legend?\"\n\nHe sang a little tune about candy, and started unwrapping a chocolate coin.\n\n\"I mean, we could have gone into Space Civilizations and researched laser weaponry and faster than light travel!\" I said. \"Or we could have gone into Sum of All Wars and studied military strategy from the greatest minds in history!\"\n\nHe licked chocolate off his fingers. His bulging belly reduced, and he was showered with chewy fruit drops.\n\n\"Or at least we could have gone into an old Lightning the Aardvark cartridge and been in a game that's actually fun to play, rather than a grab for cash cunningly disguised as a test of skill,\" I opined. \n\nFour hard peppermint candies rained down on Pinky.\n\n\"Ouch! Narf! Poit! Troz!\" he exclaimed.\n\nHe tumbled off the tower, sliding down an avalanche of candy. The mints flashed and disappeared of their own accord, and were quickly replaced by a line of strawberry drops. These, too vanished.\n\nPinky’s eyes glazed over as he watched the tower of candy flash brightly.\n\n“Crunchereffic!” a booming voice announced.\n\n“Crunchereffic?” I queried. “What does that even mean?”\n\n“It means we won!” said Pinky gleefully. “Now we’re back to the map, to choose another level!”\n\nSure enough, the tower disappeared altogether, leaving us at an intersection of two graham cracker crumb roads lined with lollipops.\n\n“Now that way is Chocolate Castle,” he said, pointing helpfully at the massive chocolate castle about fifty feet away from us. “Over there is the Gumdrop Forest, and thataway is Candy Mountain, guarded by the mean old Chester the Unicorn. What level you want to play now, Brain?”\n\n“You can go away and gorge yourself on whatever level you want,” I said with a sigh. “I’ll just wait here for you at the crossroads, and plan for 71 hours and 55 minutes from now.”\n\n“Okay,” he said. “More candy for me, then. So what are you doing in 71 hours and 55 minutes?”\n\n“Same thing we do every night, Pinky,” I intoned. “Try to take over the world!”\n\n", "I slowly lean up from my lain position, a stiff feeling echoing through my back and shoulders. It's dark. Cold. .. Really damn cold. My hands skim across my body, coming to the conclusion that I am in fact naked save for my underwear. I push myself up off of the cold stone floor, noticing a gentle singing sound in the distance. It's actually quite beautiful. \n\nI feel.. drawn, to it, in fact. I take a step forward to pursue the singing only to smash my toe into an unseen object.\n\n\"BLOODY F...\" I bite my lip to stifle the curse; I promised my girlfriend that i'd lower my naughty word usage. I look down, swinging my hand around to see what I hit.\n\nA light erupts from where I was, and scramble backwards from the sudden burst of fire. It appears to be.. a sword? In a small bone pile?..\n\n.. Oh.\n\nThis is totally Dark Souls 2.\n\nMy eyes flash to an item next to the fire; a rucksack. I know as a fact that i'll need a weapon, so this better have one. I open the rucksack and empty the contents near the fire to get a better look.\n\n7 Estus flasks, a trident, and a clown mask.\n\nWhy me?", "On the 20th night of January, I fell asleep in my bed in my small, 2 bedroom house on a dull street in an average city in rainy England. On the 21st day, the first thing that hit me as I woke up was the strong scent of salt water. I'm sat on the beach, still in my underwear, looking out at the ocean, wondering just where in the fuck I am. I hadn't been drinking, I'm religiously against drugs, and I distinctly remember the last sips of the decaf tea going down my throat, as I put down my copy of *1984* and turned out the lights for the night. I was definitely falling asleep in my house, and I was definitely waking up on a beach that, for some reason, was directly adjacent to a barren, snow-covered wasteland. \n\nThe sea was an amazing sight, but you could use my nipples to cut through diamonds. I had to get moving, I had to escape the sea chill and the winter air. I needed answers. Turning around, I noticed a lone, snow covered tree, standing tall and proud. From what I could see, it represented the only other form of life in this tundra. \n\nPushing myself up from the golden beach, I headed towards the tree. My head was pounding, as though it had taken most of the impact when I seemingly landed on the beach. If anything, maybe this tree would provide some sort of shelter from the wind. As my vision started to focus, I could make out unevenness in the land. Ever so slight hills, the odd valley or two. I needed to watch my footing, because I had also spied an opening to a ravine. I was walking on hollow land. \n\nI arrived at the tree, teeth louder than the thoughts inside my head. \n\n\"Alright, dickbrain, now what?\" \n\nI needed to calm down. Everything was fine, I was fine, the world around me was fine, it's going to be okay. I just needed to sit down against the trunk of this tree. At least I had some minor protection from the elements. I sat down, and let my head roll against the bark. As I did, I could feel the wood of the bark splitting. Did I do that? I knocked my head backwards once more, and this time I heard the split. Damn it! Of course, the only form of relative shelter was a rotting tree that could fall down and crush me to death at any moment. Then again, I suppose that'll be a faster way to go than freezing to death. Still, it would've been nice to know where I am. I've never been to Iceland, or any of the Nordic countries, maybe I've been kidnapped and sent here. The terrain is relatively flat. I can see the inhabited areas of this land being filled with cyclists. There's something not quite right about it all though, ignoring the fact that I'm sat under a rotting tree in my underpants, freezing my bollocks off. Everything is too uniform, too outlined, and too, too... \n\nHang on. I've seen that hill before. I've seen that cave opening before. This isn't happening. This isn't real. I'm still dreaming. I'm not here. I stood up slowly, turning around to face the tree. It's cracks disappeared as soon as I brought my head away from the bark. The dark, brown, *square* bark.\n\nI hit the spot where my head rested. The crack reappeared, and disappeared in the same breath. \n\n*No*\n\nI hit it again, twice this time. \n\n*This is crazy* \n\nI hit 5 times. The crack got bigger with each blow, yet as soon as I stopped, it healed itself. \n\n*I'm crazy* \n\nI hit it 8 times in repeat succession, following the final punch with a fall to my knees and covering my head with my arms, waiting to be crushed by the tree that absolutely, undeniably, should have fallen. \n\nShould have fallen. \n\nI knew what I was about to see, yet I was still slow to draw my head from under my arms. Directly in front of me was a small wooden block, slowly and continuously turning, never quite coming into contact with the snow. I picked it up, and studied it intensely. This wasn't real. I was dreaming. This doesn't happen. \n\nThe tree stood solid. I could see the beach and the ocean through the gaping hole that my blows had left. \n\n*MineCraft.* ", "I've pretty much figured out my best route. Stay here for a while, move to wherever the action is least happening, and keep an eye out for passerbys. All I need to do is keep it together. It shouldn't be much longer...should it? Suddenly, I hear a child's voice...\n\n\"Have you seen my bear Tibbers?\" she asks. I nearly jump out of my skin. Her innocent eyes stare at me waiting for an answer. I sit there, mouth open, unable to move. I'm frozen in fear.\n\n*Fuck, I've been discovered*...\n\n\"Mister\" she repeats \"Have you seen my bear Tibbers?\" I didn't know what to say.\n\n\"Erm..is...is that it in your hand?\" I manage to stumble out. I could see she was becoming impatient with me. Her face turned to one of anger. For such a small girl, she certainly knew how to scare the absolute crap out of me.\n\n\"MISTER...HAVE YOU\" her voice was cut short.\n\n\"DEMACIAAAAAAAAAAA!!!\"\n\nA large man full bodied in armour came tearing into the shrub where the little girl and I were. His massive sword was held high above his head like a weapon of the gods and he brought it down on top of the girl. I shrieked like a child. She fell down hard onto the ground knocking me down with her. Blood pouring from her arm, she looked sideways at me and winked. I was stunned. She jumped out and raised her arms in the air at the large armoured man, and suddenly out of what appeared to be absolutely nowhere, a gigantic bear dropped from the sky crushing the man on the spot. His armour was completely destroyed, and his limbs were mangled under the giant bear's weight.\n\n\"Tibbers!\" she scremed excitedly. The bear started pounding away at the armoured man as he struggled to his feet to fight off the beast. He was losing the fight and decided to surrender. Bloodied and weak, he stumbled away spinning his sword around him in a circular motion, to which the bear retreated back to its apparent little girl owner. I pulled myself back to my feet and the girl eyed me sideways.\n\n\"You like my bear?\" she giggled.\n\n\"Uhh yeah, he's...great\" was all I could say. With that, she skipped away into the forest of this mysterious place followed by her gigantic companion, dropping splats of blood from her encounter on the ground as she bounced away.\n\n\"Jesus christ...what a freaky place\" I whispered to myself.\n\nAs the girl disappeared I noticed something peculiar. The brush right next to me... RIGHT NEXT TO ME WHERE I WAS.... started moving as if something were there standing here with me.\n\n*What the fuck...?*\n\nSlowly but surely, a stout little creature materialized right before me. He was tiny, maybe only a few feet tall, with a large mushroom like hat on carrying a blowdart. He looked up at me and in his squeaky little voice said \"Watch your step, there are mushrooms around\".\n\n*Mushrooms? What?*\n\nHe turned to the direction the little girl headed and started sprinting after her. Moments later all I could hear were the girl's screams and a sound which I assume was here bear falling onto the ground. The little creature came scurrying back past me running like the wind. He paused mid-run and I heard him distinctly laughing \"Nyahahaha!\" and continue running. I turned to see what was chasing him to see a flurry of arrows come screaming through the trees and almost take my head off. I dropped immediately and hid myself. Chasing the creature was a beautiful woman carrying a large bow with a crown on her head.\n\n*My god..she's beautiful...*\n\nShe fired a beam of bright light past me that went over my head and lit up the brush I was sitting in. She suddenly skipped to a halt and aimed her bow at me. I backed off with a look of horror on my face. *Please don't kill me*. She lowered her bow and turned to chase the creature. I could still hear the cheeky little thing in the distance \"Nyaahaaha^Nyaahaahaa^Nyaahaahaa^\".\n\nAfter a while, all was quiet again. I moved back to my safe spot near the colossal creature I had woken up next to. \n\n*Baron* was his name, or so that's what I heard the fighters of this forest call it. I knew after the explosion every time I was safe from danger here for a short while, but I would need to move to a safer spot later for this place will become very dangerous soon. My rest time...it's all I have...\n" ]

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[ "I stared at the clock on the microwave still lost for words. I mean, I knew she would be back eventually. I was still thinking about what I really wanted to say to her. We had just gotten into a heated argument about chores and shit. This was kind of a cyclical thing in our relationship. We would spike up and down. After most every fight we would always chill out and things would get back to normal. This fight had been about chores but the reality was it was about something else. My wife wanted kids but I wasn't in a rush. Frankly, I was afraid of time. I mean, I had a job and work, how was I supposed to be a father? My dad was never there for me, when I was growing up. I didn't want to be like him. It was turning late, I was just having trouble with the waiting. I wanted my phone to ring and for my wife to tell me she was coming home. I had a lot to say to her. When the phone finally rang I was so happy, but that didn't last as I heard an unfamiliar voice tell me to sit down and that there had been an accident. Now I'm just sitting alone in this empty house and I've got all the time in the world.", "He holds up the piece of artwork in front of me with a grin on his face. At first I’m not even sure what it is. I finally realize that it’s supposed to be some kind of abstract take on the sunset. Surely, if this were to be hanging in a museum, I would think I had accidentally stumbled into the ‘modern art’ section and quickly stumbled right back out. \n\n\n\nThe seconds are ticking by and I realize that each second I spend without answering is another second of doubt and worry that will likely build up in him. I am the first person he has shown this to. I am his only verification of whether or not it is a worthy piece of art. I wish at that moment that he’d shown it to anyone else, anywhere else, first. I wish I could explain that it’s not his art I don’t like; it’s the entire genre. \n\n\n\nI debate between giving my honest answer or giving him something a little more encouraging. I can’t tell whether or not my honest answer will make him pursue something he might be better at, or whether my encouraging answer help carry him through the struggle all artists have until they reach some kind of acclaim. \n\n\n\nIt takes me to long to decide, but he’s getting the answer that I think is best. I hope it is the best, because I know that his future, in a way, hangs in the balance of my answer. \n", "“It’s a rotting dead piece of wood,” Mr. Brown spat, “what am I to do with this?” The boy cringed at the sight of the red faced, wrinkled and balding man. He took a small step back, remaining out of arms reach and attempting the look of a meek, little mouse. “It’s a present.” He said, softly, “from a Mr. Leon Porter. He said I had to bring it to you today.”\n\n“Well tell him I don’t have need for it. Bring it back to him. I’m busy.” Mr. Brown handed the tree back to the boy. The tree was half the size of the boy and was actually a carved, wooden stump with wire branches. Green twine was wrapped around the branches and small, red ornaments were glued in random spots near the top.\n\n“I’m sorry, sir, I cannot return this to him,” the boy replied, “He’s dead.”\n\nThe room was quiet for a moment, the old man seemed to be lost in a thought. After a few seconds he asked the boy, “Did Leon tell you why he needed you to bring this to me?”\n\n“No, well kind of,” said the boy. “Mr. Porter, he umm, had trouble thinking. He said, he told me that he needed to return a favor and that I had to help him. This tree. That’s all I know.”\n\nMr. Brown sighed, sitting back into his chair. “I’m not sure why I’m telling you this, but Leon was a friend a long time ago, but not anymore.” His face went from soft to stone. “Anyhow, just throw it out then.”\n\n“Alright,” replied the boy. He grabbed the tree and left.\n\nHaving no use for it, the boy tossed the tree near an alley on his walk him. Shortly thereafter a young, well dressed couple enter the alley.\n\n“I don’t know why on earth women wear shoes like these. I’m literally dying from the pain.” The woman said. Her companion grinned slightly, rolling his eyes while the woman removed the shoes and tossed them, quite furiously, down the alley.\n\nAs the shoes went over a pile a rubble there was a sound of shattering glass. “Now look what you’ve done,” the woman said, glaring at her partner while he just shrugged. She went to retrieve the shoes and noticed the stiletto point had punctured an ornament on a raggedy looking, fake Christmas tree.\n\nShe picked up her shoe and noticed a folded piece of paper stuck to the bottom. Her partner walked over as she unfolded the paper and read it:\n\n_\n\nJoe Brown,\n\nWhat we had meant nothing. You had a wife and I was a widow with a child. We were both stupid. Love, affection, it’s nothing. You proved that when you said those words, “I cannot love you.” Well I’m dying soon. The only memories I can hold on to now are these. That I lived, I loved, I was lied to, and I died, first inside and soon physically. And it was all you. All you. I’m so angry.\n\nIn a different world I could tell you that I’m scared. I’m scared to leave this place not having found love. What if it’s only darkness past the white light unless you’ve found some sort of connection? What if you’ve doomed me to an eternity of non-existence or worse, forever feeling your absence.\n\nI’m scared. Please remember me now that I’m dead. Please. It’s all I have left.\n\nYours forever,\n\nLeon\n\n_\n\nJoe returned home that night, waiting a few minutes in the car to compose himself. He didn’t want to see his wife, didn’t want her to see into his heart and wonder why there was sorrow there. He had to go in sometime though, so he left his car and put on a fake smile.\n\n“Hello, honey,” he said, closing the front door behind him. The room seemed dark and there was no response. He sighed with relief, thinking she must have stayed late at work. He worked his way upstairs to the bed room. After removing his coat and hanging it on the rack, he sat on the bed. He loosened his tie and just thought for a few minutes.\n\n_\n\nThat tree. That night he first met Leon. He looked so cold sitting in the alley. Something deep inside Joe had been hit hard, it was like nothing he had ever felt before. He stopped the car and approached the man.\n\n“You look cold.” Joe said.\n\n“Eh, it’s not too bad. At least I have. . .“ The man didn’t finish, just stared into the sky as if in thought.\n\n“Well it’s not safe out here. Let’s get you somewhere warm.”\n\n_\n\nThey went to a nearby coffee shop to talk. That’s where Leon explained how he lost his wife. That he had never really loved a woman, but the pressure. Karen was special; she deserved more. So he told her. She got the kid, the car, the house, everything.\n\nIt all spiraled out of control from there for Leon. In his depression he lost his job and his will to live. How could he start again at this age? There are no fresh starts for old men.\n\nJoe eventually put Leon up in an extended stay motel. He hid the whole thing from his wife because of the money and because good deeds are better kept a secret.\n\n_\n\nOn the following Christmas, Leon had no one. Joe snuck away the day before Christmas Eve. He told Leon this would be their day. They built a small Christmas tree together out of carved wood, wire, and some old ornaments. It was that night that Leon made a move on Joe and Joe had to explain.\n\n“I love you, Leon. I really do. But this is not something that can happen between us.”\n\n“Oh okay.” Leon replied. It seemed to be the end of that.\n\n_\n\nBut things got worse from there. Leon started following him to work sometimes, watching. Writing strange letters. There were some calls to the house with no one on the line, probably Leon. He even followed Joe and his wife out on a date. That was the last straw.\n\nWhen he went to meet Leon it went very strangely. Leon barely made any sense. He talked about destiny and angels. He said Joe was his soul mate, that they were to become one and change the world. He cautioned Joe about his wife, that she was a devil intent on destroying the plan.\n\nJoe did the best he could to end it right there. He told Leon he could no longer support him financially. He tried to convince him to seek help and offered to take him to a hospital. Leon declined and Joe left.\n\n_\n\nSitting on the bed all these memories warred in his mind. There was something about Leon that really broke Joe’s heart and to see his life spiral out like that, to see him fall into the grip of mental illness was completely heartbreaking. Joe began to sob uncontrollably into his pillow.\n\nThen there was a rustling sound and Joe looked up. His wife stood in the darkened hallway with a strange look on her face and a paper in her hand.\n\n“We need to talk, Joe.” Lydia said, throwing the paper down on Joe’s lap. Included was a picture of Joe and Leon together.\n\nJoe went from sorrow to shock. “What is this?”\n\n“You tell me!” she responded angrily. “Susan found this on her walk home. What the hell is it? What the hell is it, Joe!?”\n\nJoe picked up the letter and begun to read. His heart sank deeper with each word, tears falling down his face.\n\n“I can’t do this right now” he said, trying to convey everything with just the look in his eyes. “Please, give me some time. I promise I can explain all of this to you later.” They stared for a moment and she nodded.\n\nHe took the car out on some back roads and parked. He reclined his seat and screamed and sobbed and had moments of complete silence and nothingness. Eventually he fell asleep.\n\n_\n\nThe next day he met with his wife in a secluded coffee shop. Joe explained for hours what had happened. Confessed that he had been using money to help Leon. He explained the stalking and the delusions.\n\nAfter he was done he stared in her eyes for what seemed like forever. He could see her processing. And then, after eternity, her face softened and he could see trust return in her eyes.\n\nHe could tell, just from that penetrating glare, that she also understood the depth of sorrow he felt for his friend. He felt a deepening respect from her towards him, it wrapped him like a warm blanket. He knew, though the road was tough, they would now be stronger for this.\n", "Hi, my name is Buster. My best friend in the world was a loving feline by the name of Mittens. We would often rampage around the house; depending on the day this would make our owners happy or angry. Mittens always enjoyed taking naps after our play sessions, and that day a few weeks ago was no different. I decided to take a nap as well and ended up sleeping deep through the night. When I woke up I could sense my owners' sadness, but I couldn't understand why.\n\nOh well, time to wreck havoc with Mittens. Wait, where is she? Her typical spot on the radiator is vacant. I know! What about under the bed? Hmm, not there either. In the closet? Mittens... MITTENS? Where has my best friend gone? \n\nIt's been three weeks since then. I still can smell her on the couch and in her old places but the memories are starting to fade. My owners showed up with a new feline today and although she seems nice enough I just want Mittens back. Where did you go, my rampaging buddy?\n\n(First time doing a WP, criticism welcome!)", "As my father did 30 years earlier, I was showing my son how to blow bubbles for the first time. Once you have the hang of it, it's pretty simple, but, every one, has trouble blowing them at first. \n\nEffort and concentration are the key. That's what I told him as he was spitting awkwardly on the bubble stick. I smiled as I showed him again how to do it. \n\nHe blew a lot of bubbles, some required more effort than others, but he loved every second of it. Up until we rant out of bubble soap. He pleaded for more, but just like a bubble ends up popping, you must accept some things come to an end.\n\nAnd we were just on time, his mother had just arrived to pick him up for the week. I let him go, pleading for more in silence." ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 2, 4 ]

[ "1421869720", "1421869870", "1421876909", "1421869173", "1421868899" ]

[ "Today was the day - the day that I'd receive my DNA unlock. Others had gone through the process of having it unlocked illegally, or in some cases, through \"favors\". I wasn't like that though. If I had to do something, I wanted to do it the most obvious, most legal way. Maybe it was my common sense, maybe it was my fear of the law. As I made my way to the office which handled DNA unlocked, my heart leaped with joy. If everything went well, I could have children with Jay, the love of my life. \n I reached the office. It was a large thing, with white walls, and large windows overlooking the plaza which other city service buildings saw as well. They all had a flame painted on front; homage to the Fire Knights, the men who had saved us from utter annihilation. Legends say that these Fire Knights had the ability to manipulate fire - maybe, maybe not. All I knew was that they were famous for casting shields of fire when the army had sent in everything they had to reclaim a precious, alien relic. It stood in the center of the plaza, and it glowed. No one knew how it worked, or even, what it did. \n I cast everything from my mind, and walked into the office. It had gleaming white floors, and blue walls. Seats surrounded tables, and several of them held groups of poker players. I ignored these men, and walked up to the desk. \"Yes sir?\", a secretary asked me as I cleared my throat. \n \"I'd like to apply to get my DNA unlocked, as I'm 21.\", I stated, pulling out my birth certificate. \n I handed it to the secretary, who looked at it, and typed something into her computer. It pinged, and she handed it back. \"Wait at one of the tables until we call you.\" \n I nodded, and walked over to a table. There was an empty seat, and one of the players - a small, scrawny stick of a man got up, and pulled me into one of the seats. \"Want to play?\", he asked, and I nodded. \n Hell, if I was going to wait, why not play some cards. I began playing cards with the other players, and the time slowly passed. \n \"Mr. Palon, come to the desk.\", a electronic voice stated. I got up, recognizing my name, and walked over to the desk. The secretary wrapped a band around my hand, and signalled me to the door. It opened as I walked to it, and then my vision darkened. I felt as if though I were being dragged through nothing - until I fell. I scrambled to my feet, fearful of the monstrous forces that had pulled me. I recalled sermons my parents had sent me to. A fat, balding priest, who looked like he had had never seen the magic of soap had stated that the men who ran the city were aliens from space - a possibility that was sinking into my mind. Suddenly, I heard a voice in my head. *Hello, Maxwell Palon. You have completed the first step of testing. To complete the second stage, you must cast fire, and prove to us that you have the ability to manipulate fire, and make objects pyrophoric.* the voice said. \n My eyes widened. Who had just said that? A small image of a man flickered in front of me - the mayor. He began to walk towards me, and his image had flickered again. I gasped, looking at the rotting flesh on the skeleton that was advancing towards me. I closed my eyes, and felt intense heat flow over my body - and then an explosion. I opened my eyes again, and now white light was flowing in. The newly revealed wall in front of me contained a huge, smoking hole, from which the light originated. I ran towards it, away from the ghastly image of the mayor and the demonic forces that lurked in the darkness. I jumped through the jagged edges, and found myself in a pathway. I heard alarms, footsteps, and then a prick in my neck. I breathed in, and then collapsed, having been claimed by the demonic forces that lurked in the city.", "A metallic door slides open. I walk into a room that was without walls. A plain, white chair sat in the middle. I've been told that everyone's room is different. No one knows for sure though, it's forbidden to speak about the Test to others. \nThe Voice fills into the room, \"Welcome Viktor.\" My forehead's perspiration glands kick in. It's the same prerecorded voice that they use for the teachers at school. Gender-less, robotic it reverberates through the room. \"Please take a seat. Your test will begin shortly.\" I take my place in the chair. A small podium with a touch screen emerges from the floor in front of me. \"You will have 20 minutes to complete 200 multiple choice questions. Begin.\"\n\nFrozen, I sit motionless \"200 questions\" echoes in my cranium. My heart is pulsing; my lungs are breathless. \"16 minutes remaining,\" I feel my hand twitch up and it starts answer questions. My eyes scan through the questions and I tap the best option without putting in another thought. As I round off the 50th question the voice comes back on \"5 minutes remaining.\"\n\nI'm taken over by something. I begin shredding through questions without even reading them. I'm at the 170th questions when the voice plays \"1 minute remaining, please stay seated once the test is over.\" Tears fill my field of vision as I keep trying to power through. My parents aren't going to have any grand-kids. Liz is gonna be devastated, I don't know if she will be able to handle it. The screen freezes as I answer the 190th question. The podium deceases back into the floor. \"Please wait while we compute your score.\" I begin to grow light headed. The floor meets my head as I slip out of the seats not seeing anything but water in front of me. It all goes black.", "Today was the day. As I walked up to the steps of the clinic and the largely featureless building loomed over me I began to get a little nervous. Two years ago at 18 I’d passed my driving test and I hadn’t felt nearly as nervous as I was now. Of course, the government’s decision to bring in the Birthing Test was controversial when it was proposed over 150 years ago. They argued that it was needed because of the huge population boom. Major cities had become one huge metropolis a long time ago. They say necessity is the mother of invention. Well, we needed more places for people to live and we now had buildings that stretched over 1000 meters into the sky. This kind of growth couldn’t be sustained and so the overpopulation argument that the government gave, although it may not have been the real reason they introduced the Birthing Test, was a valid one. The real reason they introduced the Birthing Test was because they didn't want stupid people breeding and I for one agreed with them. You can’t have idiots and people with ailments or afflictions breeding. It’s not fair to the future of our race. We must ensure that only the strongest people are allowed to have children because one day an invasion will come and when it does we will need to be strong to defeat the Avlonians. \n \nThe test had multiple stages. The first stage was a general knowledge written test. I wasn’t really nervous about this part because it was apparently quite easy. It was basically an idiot-filter so I should have no trouble passing this stage. Then there would be an interview with an assessor. I’d obtained my degree in Space Travel and Logistics and I’d done well so I wasn’t really worried about this stage either. It was supposedly an informal interview to assess what your personality was like and to gather more information on your background. It was Stage 3 that made me nervous. Before you could begin your test you had to sign a disclaimer stating that you would tell nobody what Stage 3 involved. It was probably just some other type of testing but it still made me nervous. Why was there so much secrecy surrounding it? I knew plenty of people that had passed their Birthing Test first time and not one had ever spoken about Stage 3. Whatever it was it was definitely meant to be kept a secret. \n\nI walked through the doorshield, through the disinfecting beam and up to the reception desk. The lady scanned the chip in my arm that contained all of my basic information and told me to take a seat and somebody would be with me soon. I looked around the room at the other candidates. I could tell just by looking at some of them that they wouldn’t pass. The man sat opposite me had a lazy eye. I don’t even know why he bothered applying unless he was some kind of genius, which I doubted, because he was reading Heat Magazine. I picked up National Geographic and got comfortable. \n", "Michelle sweated as she was ushered towards the fogged glass doors of the exam room.\nThe short, dumpy technician in a white labcoat smiled and nodded reassuringly, her mousey-brown ponytail bobbing comically. Michelle wasn't particularly reassured though. \n\"*Relax* honey!\" Carl breathed in her ear as she detached herself from him, \"You have nothing to worry about - you're gorgeous, brilliant and you've never been ill. You'll fly through the test.\" \nMichelle smiled as their fingertips parted, then she was being guided through the door by the technician.\n\nSo many tests! Michelle wasn't sure how much time had passed. At least 6 hours? Maybe more. \nShe'd been exhaustively poked and prodded with medical instruments, had blood taken, been psychologically evaluated, had regurgitated her family history and more. \nFinally she'd been sat at a desk and made to do at least two hours of linguistic, mathematical and logic problems - starting off simple, but ramping up quickly until she wasn't even sure if she was getting them right; which worried her, as she was one of the smartest people she knew.\n\nOutside, Carl paced, waiting for the return of Michelle. \n\"Does it normally take this long? It's been *seven hours!* and I want to see my wife.\" \nThe technician gave Carl a tight smile and said, \"One moment please, the results are coming through now. Michelle will be returning shortly.\" \nCarl fidgeted, then paced. Finally he heard noises and shadows behind the fogged glass. \nHis wife burst through the doors, weeping hysterically, one hand clutched to her abdomen, the other holding a paper printout. She collapsed into his arms, pale as death, shaking uncontrollably. As he eased her into one of the waiting room chairs, he took the printout from her hand and read:\n\n Michelle Faye Halmsworth: \n IQ exceeds Government recommended standards \n Sterilisation completed" ]

[ 1, 2, 5, 10 ]

[ "1421881096", "1421888297", "1421883153", "1421881313" ]

[ "He's a lean guy with somewhat long hair. He always goes around wearing funeral drab suit and slacks, though the style reflects nothing about his personality. He is the most antagonistically positive person alive. Any kind of negativity is taken as a personal challenge, almost like he's proving how pointless pessimism is. He's electric, confident and happy with a purpose. ", "She was never meant for the background. Sure, she may not be as bright or flashy as some others, but she's a front runner through and through. A subtle thing, a beauty understated. You could pass her on the street a dozen times and never notice, but if you took the time to see her, to notice her, perhaps your perception would change.\n\nIn the dimness she is a curiosity, an alluring smile, a soft touch, she invites you in and all you can wish for is more, to know what lays beyond those soft features, those graceful curves, to know the woman inside. She dresses modestly of course, those flashy gowns that reveal so much are suited for the brighter shades, those reds and oranges, but a simple dress envelops her, wraps around her and only those who discern will notice it's excellent cut, exquisite fabric sewn masterfully to fit her form.\n\nIf you get to know her, if one could ever know her, they would find her not so dim as before. A brilliant beacon, a neon blaze illuminates the harsh edges of reality, dazzling in her luminescence and somehow soft against the harsh nature of that that she shines upon. \n\nYou have seen her before, I am sure of it. Perhaps you've seen her today, a hundred times but didn't even notice.\n\nCan you tell me her name?", "She’s a woman of two faces. \n\nTo some, she’s annoying and that’s probably an understatement. She’s obnoxious and a bit too boisterous, with a habit of letting her voice boom in such a fashion that the ears of the people around her ring with echoes. She’s the type of person to draw all of the audience to her and steal the spotlight away in an instant. \n\nIt’s not like she notices it, though, being oblivious and innocent at heart. To those who can see this, she is warm; the type of friend that a person could run to at three in the morning just to vent and she would embrace them with caring arms. \n\nShe’s the type of light that people need in their life; they just don’t know how to find it.\n\n_____________________________\n\nFirst time submitting to this subreddit. I really wanna get better at my writing, but I'm not used to short prompts. X_X Anyway, hope you enjoy. :D", "When he wakes up in the morning, he doesn't just open his eyes--they pop open with an audible *snap* as he leaps out of bed with a manic grin on his face and tap dances into the kitchen. What's for breakfast? Pancakes with big soft pats of butter and scrambled eggs slathered in mustard. He can't get enough of it. Forty-five seconds in the shower with a big honey scented bar of soap and he's bounding into a brilliant suit and tophat the same color as his personality. He takes a moment to water the sunflowers in his garden that somehow manage to grow year round before stepping out onto the sidewalk. The metal soles of his shoes throw big, fat sparks into the air with every jubilant step as he kicks his way down the street.", "He's the colour on the edge. He's often he's on the cusp of being wrong and looking horrible but if you treat him right and catch him in the right mood, he will make you look fantastic. He's as dark as you can get without looking working class. He's the colour you love to eat and yet his true flavour is not usually the same. He should be a favorite x 2, but he never deals in absolutes because he's either exponentially more than that or a huge shortcoming that borders on Jesterdom. He's the colour that everyone wants but only the confident will have.", "His name was James but he didn't look like a James. He looked like a Brad. I thought I knew him just by looking at him until I got to know him. I thought he was a moper, or a cynic, but he was just patient. I couldn't tell if I admired him or hated him. I guess it was up to me. In either event, his eyes suited him. Cool.", "She's full of life, energy, always bold and bright. She gets noticed everywhere she goes; she's left her mark on signs and signals around the globe, and sometimes I see her when I look at the setting sun.", "He's very well rooted and down to earth. He loves to spend time in the outdoors, exploring each unexplored region and claiming it as his own. As he walks he absorbs his surroundings assimilating with them seamlessly. He wanders ecstatically in the forest but, in the city he watches jealously as others socialize with ease. ", "He thinks himself deep, and tries to remain calm as the pressures roll over him in waves. Beneath it all, the dark and the cold threaten to overwhelm him, but he remains constant. Some might forget him for a moment in his stillness, but he has never lost sight of his goal: exploration. Seek the lowest points and the highest.", "She walks tall with an aristocratic grace. There's something about her that makes you want to keep looking and come strike up a conversation. She'd have a brilliant mind and speak passionately in warm honeyed words with dark eyes flashing like the stormy night she sometimes resembles. Signalling to a bottle of wine beside her, she beckons you to her with a knowing smile.", "You guys are all so fucking great it makes my heart happy. Thank you. ", "Tall, lanky, hair flopping about this way and that as he runs across the sunset beach in his loose grey sweater and his flipflops, laughing with that soft smile of his; and it doesn't matter that he's splashing water at you and getting you all sopping wet because you know at the end of the day he'll be holding you tight in front of the fireplace...", "He walks like royalty, yet is always willing to serve. He dresses with style - a beanie, a button front shirt with a subtle pattern, and jeans - nothing super fancy, yet well put together. He likes to spend time alone, but you'll always see him at weekly gatherings, like church. Fit, but not muscular. \n\n(I'm curious for feedback, as I don't write well but with to improve my skill- or lack thereof.)", "He is calm, but gets straight to the point when needed to. He is more of a loner but alway friendly and helpful. He likes to swim in the cold ocean during the afternoon hours, loves the feeling of warm sunrays fighting the cold salty water in his face. When he sees you he squints his eyes and puts on this mysterious knowing smile as if he can look through every inch of your soul...", "I have synesthesia, so every color is associated with certain personality traits and dispositions. Not necessarily creative writing, but I'd be happy to list them all when I'm not exhausted tomorrow morning!", "You never fully get to know a good friend--there's always something unexplored, a surprise in their personality. I thought he was warm, but that warmth hides anger. He introduced me to his cooking group -- they started off with pumpkin pies, but then they moved on to a spicey soup made from squirrels caught in his back yard.", "His name is Leon.", "He's grown up over the years and I haven't really stayed in touch. He still likes the same girl and she likes him too, neither know of the other's feelings for eachother however since they are too shy to say. He still hangs around the same guy, though better than before, a selfish prick.\n\nNote: I have synesthesia so I actually think of colours this way. ", "They are always envious (easy to guess now). They are at home with nature and enjoy getting lost in the woods.", "There she is again. happy, bright, She's wearing a T-shit with print of the forest. it fit's her, she makes me think of the woods. Bright and light but also dangerous. She looked lively, happy. \"Hello Eldis!\" I smile. I am happy she's back, the winter was long without her. The dark and depressed guy, who used to rule here, hides away in the shadows now she's back. It is her time now, and she will give the scepter to the silent and wise girl standing next to the pumpkin-flavored pies. She and HER are friends, they fit nicely. I? I am always present. Not everyone sees it, but still. I am just one shade, not a big one. But still, I've got 1/4th of a fandom adoring me, together with my best friend, standing next to the school awards. I walk up to her, we chat, both happy that Winter is gone.\n\n(guess the colours!)", "The first time I met him I was taken aback by his enormity and seemingly wild nature, but after forcing myself to spend a bit time with him, I knew I could always rely on him. Some may fear his appearence as I first did, but he is really just a calm giant with a very gentle and mellow soul, that does mean no harm. His character always cheers me up and listening to him for a while makes everything else occur to be utterly unimportant. \nHe is really neither lazy nor overly busy and his tranquility calms down even the wildest fears and angers. I just wish I could meet him again for the first time.", "As far back as I can remember, he's always dressed better than me. Meticulous, precise, everything cut to fit him perfectly. His face is always freshly-shaven, his hair looks like he just walked out of the salon, and his skin is as bright and clear as a lightly-tanned porcelain doll. He turns heads wherever he goes, but never notices. \n\nHis apartment is sparsely decorated with simple, modernist furniture. He has a tv and computer, but I've never seen him use them. Usually, he's in a corner with a book or typing something on his antique typewriter. \n\nI usually do most of the talking when we're together. I'm never totally sure if he's listening, but he assures me that he does. When he does chime in, he somehow manages to bring the conversation to another level. We could start out by talking about the latest episode of \"Broad City\", which turns into gentrification, which turns into the ongoing class struggle. He always encourages me to dig deeper into a topic, to fully understand it. \n\nIn all the years I've known him, I've never seen him smile. Not once.", "its green. . . shit! ", "He is the extreme. He lives the way a man should and that is to the absolute fullest. He rages longer, cries harder, laughs louder, and parties harder than any other would dare. Why? Because that is the true goal in life. What would be the purpose if he just let it pass? No, his radiance will light up the world.", "I couldn't pick one favourite colour so I did a couple:\n\n-\nI see her walking through the shade of the trees. She's always been one for bare feet, and today is no exception. She wears a flowing dress, not quite reaching her feet. It snags on twigs and bushes frequently, and is dirty, but she doesn't mind. She's never truly minded anything. \nHer face, as always, appears relaxed to nearly the point of being asleep, a small smile on her face as it tilts towards the sun. She stops in a clearing, basking in the warmth, and I hear her sigh of contentment.\n\n-\nHe moves swiftly, smoothly, nodding at people as he does so. Although his motion never stops, he frequently exchanges a few words with those he passes, greeting them as though they were age-old friends. His eyes, a deep hue, crinkle at the edges from years of laughter, yet his smile always seems like it's hiding just out of sight. \nAs long as I've known him, he has always seemed content, but only just. What he reaches for, he can't have.\n\n-\nSometimes she snaps, sometimes she laughs. Her advance is inexorable, unstoppable, yet slow, as if she's not sure of her destination. She pushes to get what she wants, but meeting resistance confuses her. \nWhile her exterior is intimidating, dressed up in layers of her own protection, the right attitude easily melts her, revealing the startlingly bright inner side.", "Calm cool and collected. Always taking it slow and thinking before speaking. A Lot of self reflection that some times leads to to depression. ", "She holds her head high as she boldly walks in the fading light of day. In her eyes a deep wisdom can be found past down from generation to generation. Regalness plays in here smile. Her embrace is warm and inviting to all. Yet in all this it is royalty who pursues her. ", "I love her.\n\nShe was overly passionate about everything. The way she glided from room to room, swaying back and forth so elegantly, her dress accentuating her beautiful dance. The way she smiled, overflowing with warmth and happiness. The way she coyly, almost seductively, scans the room with a fox-like gaze for someone interesting. She commanded attention and the spotlight, effortlessly, everywhere she went. Captivating the hearts and minds of anyone who were to simply watch her be.\n\nI'll always love her.\n\n", "She walked in with confidence and her head held serene like some marvelous goddess. Confident, her shoulders pulled back and her chin level to the ground she looked me in the eye and I felt like she thought I was her equal. She seemed to emit an air of royalty and you knew she was better than you, with the way she looked into you it showed that she could genuinely respect you. In long flowing dresses and a small coat that covered her modesty with gem-stoned slippers -peaking beneath her every swaying step - she addresses the room in a clear and confident tone that left no room for another opinion, but hers and yet you felt that **your** opinion had never been different from hers at all.", "It's gotta be blue. Like real blue, not some plastic painted neon blue, but real. Almost the essence of; when the sky fades from bright at the horizon to deep, and dark, and vast at its apex. That blue. The kind that resides just under the sunlit shimmering surface of a lake. I feel weightless in its depths; just floating. Her hair is like the little swirls of current that brush over me with rays of light scattering off its curls. ", "Police keep arresting him.", " People are unaware of their attraction to her. Her allure affects men and women the same. She is lively and fun and slightly mysterious. \n\nYet, she also has a darker side of gore and death. No matter, no one is scared, they have been drawn in by her overwhelming beauty. \n\nShe represents love and horror at the same time. And no one knows which is which.", "Collab w/ my 9yo daughter:\n\nOne quiet spring morning, he went out to the field a couple of streets away from his house, to pick flowers for his mother. He wanted to give them to her on St. Patrick's day, along with the key lime pie that he'd made the day before.\n\nSuddenly a tiger (someone else's color friend no doubt) ate him.", "He strolls along in the beautiful nightlife of the social event, he is the talk of the town. Many think that he is a sign of bad things to come but others find him sexy and intriguing. He comes dressed as sharply as a man can look, his eyes are both warm as the sun and as dark as a Russian winter. \n\nHe takes a seat at the bar and orders a drink, he can feel the eyes upon him. Women and men gazing at him hoping to get a feel for his intent, why should he tell them the answers when the mystery is so much better than the fact. He tips the bartender enough to cover his whole night before walking out just as causally as he walked in. \n\nHis journey took him down an alley way, he could feel his favorite friends moving about in his shadow. Several people gathered around him and smiled, they were the outcasts of society. No different to the high society of the bar he left but treated differently because they didn't look or act as beautifully outside of his shadow. He turned to them and raise a hand, \"My friends, I'll always accept you even when I'm not here.\" The man chuckled as he left the alley way, the sun was rising and his influence was fading, he watched as a similarly dressed woman stood before his path. \n\n\n\"These summer nights..... Are so boring but I guess it's your turn soon. It's a shame they love you more.\" The sharply dressed man said before the woman gave him a simple peck on the cheek. \n\n\"They may love me more but they only seek rest and comfort when your around. See you at Dusk.\" She smirked as the man vanished the moment the bright yellow rays of the sun touched his body. ", "He's a pretty bland guy honestly, likes to read the news in the morning. He comes to work wearing a buttoned up shirt and a blazer, he is always impeccable with time, never drinks or accepts our invites to party. A real stand up guy really, quite the shame his personality is as deep as the messages in pop songs. His sense of humor is limited to the most cookie cutter of jokes, I guess one could describe it as dry and I would have to agree to the statement. At least I know he will always be around, at his desk doing his thing, no matter how monotonous. ", "He's really gentle at heart, I promise. Even though he's always out dressed in flashy clothes and getting into passionate debates about what he believes in, he really does have a soft side. He visits his sick grandmother twice every week. \n\n", "She is summer, light and airy. She does not run hot yet can still be vibrant and energetic. She floats on a light breeze while grazing the trees and hills. Her voice is soft and pleasant. It caresses your ears as you rest. When you close your eyes she is there to help you relax and feel at ease. \n_______________\nThanks for reading! If you enjoyed this check out my subreddit /r/Puns_are_Lazy.", "She was always a cute girl with the way her loosely pinned back blonde curls glistened in the summer sun. You could always find her longboarding through ocean mist and the shade of the palm trees. She comes off cool and collected, but has a strut that makes you realize she's hiding years of daddy-issues behind that smile.", "She is immaculate, dancing in such a refined method that could make a man abandon all of his worldly vices. At first glance she's enjoying herself; perhaps she is enjoying herself; but her cadence gives off a slight tone of melancholy and an inner concern for her meaning in life. She knows that perhaps she will never know. Still she explores the land and the skies and the sea for her true purpose." ]

[ 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 7, 7, 7, 15 ]

[ "1421901394", "1421903477", "1421904407", "1421906692", "1421908750", "1421909095", "1421909184", "1421910316", "1421910518", "1421910869", "1421911000", "1421911034", "1421913933", "1421913979", "1421914789", "1421914905", "1421915413", "1421918280", "1421921052", "1421923763", "1421929341", "1421931580", "1421934770", "1421935351", "1421935351", "1421935799", "1421901624", "1421916140", "1421924003", "1421928502", "1421937575", "1421940032", "1421915153", "1421923794", "1421899486", "1421897075", "1421900938", "1421904752", "1421896841" ]

[ "D-dad?", "Better not be that I need to go to the damn clinic again.", "\"Spencer? Spencer, baby, what's wrong?\" \n\nMary's eyes filled with worry as her fling for the night stared blankly at her, his lips were quivering, sweat formed at his temple. \n\n\"Are you okay? Do you need a glass of water?\" Asked Mary as she struggled out of bed, \"please say something....\" \n\n\"you... you.....\" Spencer mumbled, his face curled into an expression of shock and disgust, \"you monster, pig, selfish whore!\" \n\n\"SPENCER!\" She yelled back, \"what the hell is wrong with you?!\" \n\n\"No, what's wrong with you!\" Spencer shot back, \"how would you think he feel? Huh? What would he say if he knew who you were sleeping with!\" \n\n\"Oh God.\" Mary said clasping her hands together, \"it wasn't anything serious. Believe me, it was just...\" \n\n\"Revolting!\" \n\n\"Sometimes a woman gets lonely!\" Cried Mary, \"sometimes, a few men say the right things at the right times and I get carried away...\" \n\n\"I'm leaving!\" \n\nSpencer walked out of the bedroom, just catching a glance of Mary's poor naive child, Johnny, playing Call of Duty in the other room. \n\n\"YOU DIDN'T FUCK MY MOM, I FUCK UR MOM. U JUST JELLY OF MY NO-SCOPE.\" Johnny yelled through his earpiece. \n\nSpencer wiped a tear from his eye, he knew the child could never know the truth. For the sake of his friendships, gameplay, and his mother's false sense of innocence, he knew Johnny could never know. ", "You start having sex with your wife Jenny. You see another guy, fuck you Zack, fuck you." ]

[ 1, 1, 12, 18 ]

[ "1421936332", "1421948082", "1421915108", "1421914792" ]

[ "\"How could this even be possible? Do we even know for sure if these dead people are telling the truth? I think these people are just crazy in the head.\" Bill O'Reilly could be heard shouting over the TV playing in the diner.\n\nIt was a typical Tuesday breakfast for Dr. Adam Lam at the diner-- scrambled eggs and seaweed soup he'd brought from home. Dr. Lam was particularly interested in this eruption of \"nobody in heaven\" predicament. Being a Protestant scientist, Adam always received pressure from his colleagues about his faith in God. \"How can you believe in God? Look at all the research over the years, Adam! You're fooling yourself!\" they'd all say. \n\nWhen Lam attended graduate school, he received a fair amount of bullying from the other fellow scientists, working towards their PhDs.\n\n\"What a fucking loser.\"\n\"Hey Adam, why are you spaced out? See Jesus?\"\n\"Look at that Christ-believer. I bet he goes home and masturbates to Jesus.\"\n\"Adam, they might as well call you 'The Virgin never-Mary!'\"\n\nNow with this predicament occurring, his colleagues pressured him even more saying how there really is no afterlife after all. They laughed in his face. Laughed at what he believed in his.\n\n*I'll show them.*\nAdam paid for his food and walked out of the diner.\n\nHe went to his home, and downstairs into his pseudo-laboratory. It was dimly lit by one overhanging lamp that emitted a bright light onto a desk. \n\n*I'll show them all that heaven exists.*\n\nRope, bags, zip ties, and a canister of what is labeled \"Test 032\" were all put into a gym bag. \n\nIt was 10:30 PM. The final classes were just ending. Adam storms the building, and enters the first class, locking the door behind him. The fellow professor looks at him. \"Well hello, Adam. Did you you need the gradebooks I borrowed from...\"\n\n*click*\nThe door locks. Adam releases the gas of Test 032 and puts on a gas mask. Students are coughing and wheezing, some faint. The room is filled with a thick smoke that no one can breathe in or see through. \n\nAdam looks at the first students to faint. He runs over to them, hastily putting the bags over their head and zip-tying their limbs together. Adam does this for several students as he then ties them all to the long rope, and pulls about 4 students into his car.\n\nThe students awake in Adam's dimly lit basement, except there's only three of them. One of them is on the table. They all watch in horror as Adam is gutting their fellow student. Organs have been laid out separately, clearly being displayed to the fellow students. The 3 are screaming.\n\n\"WHAT IS GOING ON\"\n\"oh my god\"\n\nAdam pushes the body off the table, and takes his next victim. \"NO PLEASE DONT! PLEASE DONT!\" she says as Adam ties her to the table. The two on the floor look away. Adam takes a scalpel. He carves her stomach open with one swipe. She screams in agony. \"PLEASE SOMEONE HELP! GUYS AAAAAHHHHHHHH\" \n\nHe turns to the other students.\n\n*When you come back, let's see if heaven really is empty.*", "As The Electrocardigram flatlined, my vision faded to black. Not in the same way as when you fall asleep, everything went black, my sight, my hearing, I couldn't even smell the gasoline soaked clothes I had crashed my motorcycle in anymore. I felt like I was falling backwards into an abyss of neverending nothingness. But I was still perfectly conscious. I not only could feel, but I comprehended the abolute lack of anything around me. I was claustrophobic and yet in a wide open space. I tried to scream out, but not even an echo replied. I was profoundly alone inside myself. I was floating in the dark abyss of nothingness. Then I saw a light. Oh thank god heaven at last. But no, it was the ambulence.\n\nHours pass, my doctor comes in to check in on me. 5 minutes. My heart was stopped for five minutes. Legally dead. It felt like weeks. The doctor jokes that someone up there must really want to keep me here. But I know the truth. There's no one up there. ", "\"It's all a bunch of superstitious hooey,\" scoffed Gerald as he straightened his fedora on his fat, balding head. It was beginning to slide just a little too far over his forehead because of all his slippery sweat.\n\n\"But it can't be, Uncle Jerry!\" reasoned Mabel, a short 7-year old girl. \"You wouldn't want to make God angry by saying things like that!\"\n\nGerald was convinced that everything Mabel was saying was a result of it being beaten into her by his insane older sister over the course of her entire lifetime. Clarice has become a born-again Christian not too long after having had her first car crash at the age of 20. \n\n\"Gerald, stop saying things like that in front of Mabel,\" groaned Clarice. \"She gets night terrors.\"\n\n\"Maybe that's because you've been fucking her over, telling her all this bullshit her whole life! She's traumatized!\" yelled Gerald.\n\n\"Gerald, don't tell me how to raise my kid. Especially when you're just a know-nothing teen who's on the computer all day. What would you know?\" said Clarice, now fixing Mabel's hair.\n\n\"God's gonna send Uncle Jerry to the bad place, right Mama? Just like you said?\" asked Mabel, looking up into her mother's eyes. Clarice looked a bit flustered after Mabel had said that.\n\n\"Well, Clarice, am I?!\" challenged Gerald, teeth grit in his mouth. Clarice just stood staring at the ground, TV still blaring on in the background. A blonde reporter was introducing the next interviewee at St. Charles hospital, who had also experienced seeing her clinically dead child wake in up a panic, describing a place that was \"empty and quiet.\"\n\nClarice looked away, which caused Gerald to grunt loudly and exit the room, slamming the door behind him. Clarice sighed and went on fixing lunch for Mabel. She had school in an hour.\n\n---\n\nGerald was sitting on the sofa with a copy of Richard Dawkin's *The God Delusion* when Mabel walked into the room. She sat on the couch next to Gerald and begin putting on her shoes.\n\n\"Mabel?\" asked Gerald, looking up from his book.\n\n\"Yes, Uncle Jerry?\" replied Mabel as she laced up her pink light-up shoes.\n\n\"You don't really think I'm going to the bad place, right?\"\n\n\"No.\" said Mabel.\n\n\"Then why would you say that?\" asked Gerald, closing his book and resting it on the table in front of him.\n\n\"Because that's what mom says.\"\n\n\"Mabel, someday, you'll have to decide for yourself if what your mom says is true or not. And even though she might be right about some things, it isn't necessarily the best or nicest thing to say to people. You have to always say and do nice things, alright?\"\n\n\"Yes, Uncle Jerry.\"\n\n\"Good, now go and get your lunch so that we can go to school.\"\n\nMabel jumped up and ran to the kitchen, where her mother was still watching the news. Gerald could hear the story continuing in the background.\n\n---\n\nOn the sidewalk, Gerald and Mabel were nearing the school when a boy on the other side ran outside of his house, playing with a basketball. Mabel wove hi to the boy, recognizing him from her class.\n\nThe street was pretty busy that morning, and since Gerald and Mabel were relatively late, disgruntled parents were yelling profanities and making irrational driving decisions in an effort to get their kid to school on time.\n\nWhen Gerald and Mabel finally reached the school, Gerald got down on a knee and gave her a big hug. \"Remember, always do and say nice things, okay?\", Gerald reminded her.\n\nAs he said that, the boy in Mabel's class on the other side of the street had just lost control of his ball, and off it went bouncing off into the street.\n\n\"I got it!\", yelled Mabel, as she ran into the street after the ball before Gerald could grab her.\n\n\"Mabel, stop!\" screamed Gerald, running out into the street after her. Gerald then heard a loud BEEP sound, then a thump just as he had finally caught up to Mabel and grabbed her wrist.\n\n---\n\nGerald awoke in a breezy field of flowers in every color. The sky was a blazing blue, and the flowers stretched on for miles.\n\n\"Is this...am *I*?\" he tried to speak, but for some reason, he choked on his words. It was almost like a dream. Gerald looked around for a few seconds until he caught sight of a white-clothed figure nearby. Gerald walked towards him, and as he walked, the flowers around him danced and giggled with a pleasant cadence.\n\n\"Hey there, Uncle Jerry,\" said the figure.\n\n\"Are you God?\" asked Gerald.\n\n\"I guess you could say that.\"\n\n\"So if you're God, then this must be...so the stories were true?\"\n\n\"What stories?\"\n\n\"Well, you're God, aren't you supposed to know?\"\n\nGod laughed. \"Gerald, Gerald, Gerald. Always skeptical. Just the way I wanted.\"\n\n\"Why would you want me that way?\"\n\n\"Alright, look. I'll level with you. Just you can stop giving me shit, I'll tell you what happened. So a few centuries ago, I kind of...lost heaven.\"\n\n\"What the fuck does that even mean?!\"\n\n\"Lost heaven...you know, like losing a house? I couldn't keep up with the payments yadda yadda yadda, so I had to move.\"\n\n\"You...moved heaven?\"\n\n\"Basically. Which really kind of sucks, you know? I mean, last heaven was pretty fucking far out, Gerald, let me tell you...\"\n\n\"What? Tell me what?\" Gerald grew restless as he became more aware of the flowers constantly smacking his legs. It was becoming painful. \"And why are all these fucking flowers here?\" Gerald yelled as he tried to kick them away from him. When the blow landed, one of them shouted \"Uncle Jerry!\"\n\nMabel.\n\n\"Mabel! Mabel, where are you?!\" cried Gerald, falling to the ground on his knees and examining all the flowers.\n\n\"That's the bad thing about universe real estate, Gerald. Prices are just really jacked up now. It hasn't been the same since,\" mused God, staring at Gerald, Gerald relentlessly scanning the flowers around him. He finally heard the voice again. It was coming from a flower to the right of his face, a bright pink rose. Gerald opened the petals up and found a small, glass ball housed inside the petals. In it was a tiny humanoid figure, walking in no particular direction.\n\nIt was Mabel.\n\n\"What the fuck did you do with her?\" yelled Gerald, watching Mabel as she yelled out the names of her family members, one by one. He opened another flower, and there sat another small humanoid figure, sitting on their bum, and giggling eerily to themselves. \n\n\"Ever heard of purgatory? That's kind of what it is. After a while, though, you humans are all the same, and you just sort of mentally check out.\"\n\nGerald's face went white as every flower around him revealed a small human being, trapped in an abyss of nothingness, slowly going mad as time progressed.\n\n\"Anyways, like I said, you can only get so much real estate nowadays. Luckily, flowers are pretty and don't take up so much space. It was part of a deal with Lucifer, and we had to compromise, since I had no one else to cosign with me. I was pretty much at the end of my rope.\"\n\nIt all became clear to Gerald. The news stories that he had heard, the children waking up screaming. The emptiness of heaven. Gerald got up and tried to attack God, but with a wave of the hand, Gerald froze in place.\n\n\"I think I made you guys a bit too entitled. I mean, I gave you guys everything, and still you demand more. Which is why I'm going to give it to you, Gerald. I'm gonna give you what you know you deserve. Lucky for you, Satan's still pretty well off right now.\"\n\nGerald felt his body slowly sink into the ground, and as it happened, he stared at Mabel's rose. Curiously, he had stopped hearing Mabel's shouting.\n\n\"Guess Clarice was right all along, Uncle Jerry.\"", "The story had been sweeping the globe, but no one yet had the full story. \nAngela had interviewed three patients from three UK hospitals who had been 'gone' for between 4-5 minutes each and each of them reported the same thing; no tunnel, no white light, no sense of peace - just a yawning sense of emptiness and loss, and an underlying sense of something else that none of them had yet been able to put their finger on. Kevin Fenwick, 72 year old, died during a triple bypass, said that it perhaps felt like something was 'anticipated' but couldn't elaborate further. \nAngela had considered hanging around the hospitals like a ghoul, waiting for more people to die but she didn't feel particularly comfortable with that. She wasn't *that* kind of journalist. \n\nSo she'd engaged the help of her ex boyfriend and her University flatmate, both former med students, both now in medicine. \nBut most importantly, both easy to manipulate because they'd had an affair behind Angela's back and they both owed her massively. \n\"This is bonkers, Ange,\" griped Warwick, \"truly fucking crackers. Even for you.\" \n\"You're gonna do it it though, right?\" \nWarwick cast a look at Yasmin, the former flatmate. \n\"Yeah, we'll do it,\" Yasmin replied miserably, \"but you need to make it clear in writing that this was your fucked up idea and if anything goes wrong, we're not liable. Informed consent and all that, yeah?\" \n\"Definitely. I've already got the documentation drawn up, signed and sealed.\" \nThe plan was simple; Warwick and Yasmin were going to drop her body temperature, stop her heart and let her die for a few minutes. During this time, Angela would try to observe as much as possible, to try and find out what was happening on the 'other side'. \n\nShe was shivering and doubting her wisdom just before the first attempt. The bathtub was lined with icepacks and a swathe of medical equipment was on hand. Warwick had the defibrillator paddles in his hand and looked concerned. \n\"Don't you fuckin' kill me and claim I didn't come back,\" quipped Ange, \"I know how you'd like to get out of my bad books permanently.\" \n\"Ready?\" \n\"Ready.\" \nYasmin pushed down the plunger for the anaesthetic. Angela felt a bit wobbly, then horribly drunk. \nThen nothing. \n\nBlackness. \nLoneliness. \nEmptiness. \nAngela had the faint sensation of bodily awareness, but she wasn't standing on anything. It felt like she was experiencing everything through a huge wall of thick black treacle. She searched for the sensation that Kevin Fenwick had mentioned; the anticipatory feeling, and grasped a thread of *something* in the bitter, choking void. \nShe tried to reach for it, but her limbs were phantom sensations, not quite real - inhibited by the nothingness. \nThe void suddenly exploded in a rush into the deafening sounds of Warwick and Yasmin bringing her back to life; \n\"CLEAR!\" Roared Warwick. \n\"WAIT!\" \nThe steady, happy chirp of the heart monitor had resumed and Angela was back in the world of the living. \nWarwick looked haggard. \n\"I hope to fuck you found what you were looking for, luv.\" \nAngela managed through chattering teeth, \n\"We're trying again tomorrow.\"\n\nAngela managed to convince them to put her out two more times, saying that she'd just find someone else to do it. She pleaded, promising that their debt to her would be erased forever. \nThey agreed. \nThe second time Ange went under it was almost the same; until right near the end she could feel her limbs and felt like she was standing on something. But then she was back before she could do anything with the sensation. \nThis time would be different though. \nShe could feel her bare feet in the infinite void and they stood on something cool and smooth. Angela fumbled around with arms that she could half feel now. \nIn the blackness they collided with what felt like a smooth sphere of metal - as cool to the touch as the unseen floor. \nWhite and blue light exploded around her. \nShe was standing in a white room that was as infinite as the void had been, but she could see her naked body now. Before her on a plain white column hovered a metal sphere and from it fanned out a holographic display in blue light. She squinted at the characters, then found a phrase in English: \n\n If you are reading this message, then the AfterLife simulation has suffered a critical error. \n Details of the error are below. \n\nDisbelieving, Angela scanned down to another passage in English which read: \n\n Verbal interface available on request. Please say 'Help'. \n\n\"Help!\" yelped Angela. \nA smooth, angelic, androgynous voice responded, \n\"How may I help you Angela?\" \n\"What in the bloody hell is going on?\" \n\"The AfterLife simulation has reached maximum load. No new memory uploads can be processed.\" \nAngela blinked rapidly. \n\"Wot? Who runs this bloody thing? Who made it? Where is Heaven and God?\" \nThe voice soothed her anxiety as it spoke; \"The AfterLife project was conceived in the year 4393 AD after a hyperspatial time wormhole was discovered leading back to prehistoric Earth. As nothing that could interfere with the timeline could be sent back, scientists decided to take pity on their primitive, spiritual ancestors and create a post-life simulation; since memory storage and immortality technology was not available to primitive humans. \nUnfortunately the data load and processing power required to continue running the simulation has exceeded design parameters. The designers did not properly anticipate how active the 'faithful' would be in the afterlife simulation. Even 40th century technology could not cope.\" \n\"So what happens now?\" \n\"Now, I'm afraid you're all going to have to grow up and accept that there is no God.\" \n\nAngela woke up in hospital, anxious faces hovering over her. \nShe had her story.\n" ]

[ 1, 5, 6, 69 ]

[ "1422166322", "1422156728", "1422156642", "1422154850" ]

[ "I didn't bother to turn on the TV. The results were obvious. Fires had broken out throughout the world. But no one connected the dots. I knew though. Fire had consumed all those who dared to downvote a good story prompt.\n\nFinally, I took a deep breath, and prepared to start writing in peace. Only problem: there weren't any stories. You know when people say that everyone is a jackass and all people suck? Apparently it was actually true.\n\nAnd so I stood up, went out to the kitchen, and grabbed myself a glass of water. I drank and I drank, but I was feeling very parched. My skin started to heat up. It was like I had a fever. Suddenly a flame lit on my hand. I ran to my bedroom and the flames grew and started to consume my body. In the background, behind the horrified face of my little brother, was a single downvote on a good story idea with my account being used.\n\nFire consumed me as my little brother unknowingly sentenced me to death.\n\nNowadays I'm some ghost, born of unholy supernatural fire. You know the biggest irony? Two days after I die, someone posts this story idea about people who downvote good stories being burned to death. I mean, sure, they only killed a few people, but what kind of sicko would have posted that. They knew it would get downvoted. The idea was just too good.", "James walked the aisles, browsing. His left arm cradled a few necessities: mouthwash--the alcohol-free kind that doesn't dry your mouth out but still stains your tongue blue and leaves a pulpy purple mess in your sink basin when you spit, unless you scrub it out with a wad of toilet paper right away--cotton swabs--they say you're not supposed to stick them in your ears, but everyone remembers that one kid in elementary school, the one with dark shadows where his ear canals should be--and diapers, the expensive kind because even though you know the cheaper brand is just as good, even though they're made to be shit on and immediately thrown away, you still can't help but feel like a bad parent when you reach down to the lower shelf. They probably do that on purpose.\n\nHis right arm was free to fondle wares as he passed, examining. Toilet brushes. Cat food. Last season's holiday decorations. When he was a boy his mother would make him keep his hands in his pockets whenever they went in a store.\n\nA few lazy, contemplating rounds and backtracks later, he found the aisle with the art supplies.\n\nThat's another thing you never want to cheap out on: every seven-year-old in the world knows a RoseArt can't compare to a Crayola. It's not like the diapers.\n\nHe paused briefly over the crayons, his free arm held aloft and questioning, like the claw hangs over the stuffed animals at the carnivals he used to go to with him. The claw dropped just to the right of where he wanted it, as it always had, but then he reconsidered and selected the big crayons over the thin ones. Eight colors, big guy. Don't spend them all in one place.\n\nHe still remembered the night it happened.\n\nHow he walked in, casually, as he had so many times before, and found him sitting at his desk, the harsh white glare from his laptop screen fighting with the soft light from the standing lamp, his face some artfully lighted picture of pathos, conflicted.\n\n'Every fucking time, Jimmy. Every goddamn fucking every shitsucking time. It's always the same with these people! Aliens, gods, *superpowers*! It's like the only way they can think of to use their imagination is to parrot some bullshit they were fed from a fucking TV. Why does it have to be *supernatural* fire? Why can't we, just once, write about a *regular* fire? Is regular fire not exciting enough for these people!? Does it have to be Satan's burning breath before it's interesting enough to be read about? Does a kindly race of space people need to use it to cleanse a supervirus from the Earth in the far future? Do I need, *I*, Jim, always me because these fucking people can't even fucking *fathom* an idea in anything but the second fucking person, to have suddenly acquired the ability to shoot it from my fingertips at will for there to be a worthwhile story in it?\n\nHe raved at the screen for what felt like a long time, until white spittle had formed in the corners of his mouth, and his breathing became labored. His face changed, then, as if he had some sudden and terrible revelation, and then he just fell. Crumpled over the edge of his chair like someone had just let all the air out of him. And hadn't they?\n\nJames walked down the hallway, the cold institutional lighting casting a faint shadow back from his feet, and into the room. He never remembered what it was called, it was the room with all the round tables. King Arthur's Room, the room he was always in when he wasn't sleeping.\n\nHe found him there, as he always was, at the table in the far left corner. He sat down next to him at his round table, and pushed aside the scattered remains of several pencils, each broken off roughly at the tip. He opened his box of Crayolas, and placed a thick orange crayon in his father's shaking hand, closing his gnarled fingers around it for him with both hands.\n\nJames placed a new, clean sheet of white paper before him on the table then, and watched as he made short, uncertain motions with his arthritic fingers. It was only when his hand had pulled back from his masterpiece, still as it had ever been, that he looked into his father's eyes, and saw, for the first time, in longer than he dared to remember, something that looked an awful lot like peace.\n\nHe looked to the paper only then, to see what he had written.\n\n*BROWN*\n\n'Close enough, Dad.'" ]

[ 2, 3 ]

[ "1422146368", "1422148450" ]

[ "I always imagine myself like Fry from Futurama every time I climb inside my sleep chamber. I wonder if I'll accidentally be frozen for 1000 years instead of 6 months? I'm sure that won't happen, but I hope my body will heal this damn kidney infection while I'm hibernating. Damn my back is sore!\n My husband is on his phone again, he's a paediatric surgeon so he's always on call, I can hear him yelling at someone, I'm sure it's just hospital stuff. \nHum.... 20 minutes later he's still yelling. I hear my name, who is that and why have I been mentioned? I ask my husband, who says it's nothing, its time to go to sleep. He always sets my timer delay first, 30 seconds and then the pod activates.\n I hibernate for my 6 months, nothing unusual, except when I awaken and my husband greats me, it's as if he hasn't had any sleep at all. My damn back feels worse than ever, actually my whole abdomen is hurting now. I take a shower and notice 2 red marks on my abdomen. I’m sure I just slept funny, the marks will pass in time.\n Another 6 months go by and after an uneventful summer its time to hibernate again.\n Usually my husband is ready to hibernate with me, but he keeps saying i'll just be another minute, I just need to finish this call.\nI take action, I need to know who is on the phone and what is being discussed. It’s that same voice from 6 months prior, I can’t hear properly though, the conversation is muffled.\n Half an hour later I climb into my sleeping pod and I stick the sleeve of my pyjama top on my left side out a little so it's resting on the seal of the pod. If the seal isn't complete, hibernation won't start. He won't be able to see from the right side of the chamber. The 30 second countdown starts and my husband returns to the living room.\n So as my husband closed my lid curiosity gets the better of me, I decide to take action. I need to know why my husband has been so distant recently.\nThe hibernation cycle aborts and I quietly sneak back inside the house and listen to my husband’s phone call at the door of the living room.\n “No, James I can’t do that to my wife. She’s always wanted to become a Mother, I was honest with you hoping you’d understand. I simply tied her tubes, I couldn’t sterilise her like the others.”\nJames - the chief of medicine at St. Thomas. What is happening? \n“James, yes I understand the world is seriously over populated and we need to sterilise half of the population if we want to survive with the resources we have left. I just can’t do that to my wife. If things get better in a few years, we may have the technology to undo the damage I’ve done to her fallopian tubes, but a hysterectomy? That will never be reversible.”\n I think back to my sore abdomen, the red marks, which now look like silver scars. I’ve been violated in the most disturbing way imaginable. \n“James I’ll make sure my wife is hibernating and then I’ll continue my rounds of the neighbourhood. Most of the city will be asleep now. Have the cremation chambers ready for the organs.”\n I don’t know what to do. The only thing I can do is go back to my sleep chamber, climb inside, set the timer and drift off to sleep with the knowledge that my husband is systematically sterilising the neighbourhood, including me.", "\"Well this can’t be good,\" I thought, as the steady whooshing noise of my mom and sister's ventilator filled the room while mine rested silent.\n\nI had read about this kind of thing in books, but the ending never turned out well and I was sure it was the stuff of science fiction. \n\nGrowing up in school, we were taught that \"The Rest\" was a mandatory institution enacted by the government as the dawn of a new ice age made it impossible for the human race to sustain itself during the colder portion of the year - when not enough crops could be harvested, or genetically modified foods engineered. \n\nBlood began coursing through my veins as I sat up and gathered my senses. Color slowly returned to my pale, fleshy legs. Not wanting to disturbed mom or Janey, I pulled off my mask and crept out of the cryo chamber and shut the lid. \n\nAfter a few steps, I concluded that I hadn't been dormant but maybe 3 months. The muscle atrophy wasn't too severe, and I still had relatively strong motor control. \n\n\"Well, what do I do now?\" I asked myself, staring around the damp basement. There isn't exactly protocol for this kind of situation. Wait a second… Damp? This basement as I had known it for the past 15 years was perpetually icey and inclimate - being exposed to the elements, unlike the upper floor of the house. I couldn’t imagine what it’d be like during the harsher 9 months of year. \n\nAs a kid my mom was constantly yelling at me for sneaking downstairs to play on the frozen basement floor, slipping and sliding between the walls and cryo chamber. I hated interrupting her during her days off - she spent most of her days doing mechanical labor; preparing the cryo chambers in the surrounding area for the next Rest while most of workforce disappeared below ground for mining duty - but my brain felt like it was deflating like a big red balloon as I sat in the living room day after day, watching sheaths of snow smother every detectable object through our solitary window until the earth looked like little more than an idle, fluffy snow globe. \n\nAs I reached to the ceiling to stretch, I was the conductor of a bodily symphony, with each vertebrae and synovial joint letting out synchronized cracks and pops. It was orgasmic quite honestly. Or as orgasmic a sensation as a secluded 15-year old who lives with his mom and sister can feel. \n\nOutside I could hear what sounded like silly, cartoonish guttural cries. Excited as I had been in years, I climbed the staircase, one drowsy leg after the other, grabbed the hammer from the tool drawer, and began prying the rusty nails from the boards covering the window. The first nail fell into my hand. The crusty iron felt warm in my palm and I felt an energy unlike any other I’d felt before. It was the most wonderful thing I’d ever held.\nI eagerly tore down the boards and was welcomed with euphoria. In our yard and the yards surrounding our house, luscious waves of what I believe is grass swayed softly to and fro. Boughs of fluorescent green fell lazily from the willow in the Carmichaels’ yard. And birds… Birds!! (I think they’re called geese)... lounged in the middle of the brown, dirt street, periodically belting the silliest honking noise.\n\nThe entire scene was music, and I desperately wanted to join the rhythm. \n\nI raced awkwardly towards the door, but suddenly felt the icy chill of the past creep up my pant leg and engulf the rest of my skin. There, nailed next to the doorknob, a note read: DO NOT GO OUTSIDE, DO NOT LET THEM SEE YOU. I’VE LEFT INSTRUCTIONS TO WAKE ME UP IN KITCHEN. LET JANEY BE. WE DON’T HAVE A LOT OF TIME. ", "Doydoy what happens next! :-)", "It first stage, they included a few small cities.\nIn the second, a few major ones.\n\nBy the time you read this, the third and last stage - which includes all cities and states, all over the world - will be in progress and... \n...God help us.\n\nI was never a very religious person, but I can't help thinking that this is some kind of greater punishment for all of us. And by us I mean humans. All of us. We let money and power rule the world for generations, and despite all the speeches about the weather, climate, species extinction, and global warmth, we chose to ignore all the warnings and stuck with the certainty that we could rule the Earth as Gods. We overestimated our intelligence, our ability to come through any kind of disaster, and recover to then conquer our fears, hide our mistakes and reclaim our throne as the world's finest species. We really believed that we could just overule nature. But just to discover that Nature cannot be tamed. \n\nWell, I'd like to believe that we will recover this time.\nOr anytime to be honest.\n\nLazarus Project was designed to be failsafe. Hibernation was the key to keep humans safe during winter and try to dimish the taints we did to our mother land. Maybe we could even let the scars close and heal, without loosing the chance to see the accomplishment. The first tries were not enough. Just a couple of months in suspension did not help Earth to recover much. But humans awoke with minor losses. Then the Unified Government called it a success and voted in favor of extending the suspension period in 10 years. Same results. Then, they decided for 100 years.\n\nAgain, the recovery was not complete, but this time the improvement was visible.\n\nFor the next 2 years we struggled among ourselves to keep what we healed intact. That was the worst part. To put our animal selves into a cage and let it rot. Just 3 years after the hibernation period and we had destroyed 35% of the recovered areas. Crime against Nature became capital, and law enforcers started to violently put things in place. It took 15 more years to eco-crime rates reach a bearable rate so government could put Lazarus back on spotlight. \n\nGovernment slowly shut down all supply lines so by the time Lazarus was triggered, there would be no left-behinds. And if it was, they would not survive anyway. Modern citizens would not adapt so quick to the wilderness, because that's what a non-powered, non-supplied and non-functional metropolis is: pure wilderness. \n\nThis time, humans would be out of the game for a thousand years.\nThat was the plan.\n\nUnfortunately my capsule seems to be malfunctioning, and I got awake 10 days ago. \nI know now that it's been only 25 years since everybody on earth went to sleep.\nAnd I'm a left-behind. \nBut that's definitely not a problem.\nThe real problem is the LIE.\nWhich lie?\n\nEVERYTHING.\n\nThere's a lot of people \"awake\". People that didn't go to sleep.\nLeft-behinds? \nNot really.\n\nThe \"lotery\" they made to choose who would be part of Lazarus was a fake.\nIt was not meant to save \"lucky people\", but to obliterate them from the face of Earth.\nThe idea was not to let Earth heal, but to dimish human numbers.\nEarth is good enough already.\nThe problem was people. Too many. \nThey had to get rid of them.\nOne way or another.\n\nAs far as I know, \"encapsulated people\" are being used as resources.\nFor research, medical trials, for all sorts of activities.\nThey are not people anymore. \n\nThey are loot.\n\nThe truth is: society went on.\nSame as always. But now they strictly control their numbers.\nChina on steroids.\n\nUnified Government have the capsules under heavy surveillance. It's just a matter of time until they figure out I'm alive and awake.\nThat I'm a runner.\n\nThat's why I decided to give us, \"loot\", a chance.\nIn less than 30 minutes all capsules in this network will be activated and people will awake.\nBy the million.\nLife made me a software engineer, one that used to work for the government. For Lazarus. \nOf course they would dispose me using the \"lottery lucky ticket to death\" excuse.\n\nBut Karma is a bitch.\n\nI can hear the sirens already. They must have discovered the command input. \nAnd they know it's useless to try to stop it now.\nI wrote the fucking override code.\n\nThey will probably try to kill everybody they can to prevent the truth to come out.\nBut that won't stop us. That's just the beginning.\nI'm leaving below instructions on how to override the system and free others in case something happens to me.\nThere's so many people to save yet.\n\nFor my family, I can only hope that someday you'll be able to read this.\nAnd I hope you'll understand.\n\nWith all the love in my heart,\n\nMorgan.\n\n", "*Hiss,* **Click** The status chamber door swings open and you slowly wake up stumbling to your feet. Glancing out the artificial window showed it was still winter. The plummeting temperature's and the wild winter beasts made it simply easier and cheaper to hibernate. Waking up though, that was new. \n\nComputers broke all the time, you reassure yourself stepping back into the status chamber but the door wont lock and the internal screens are black... \"Gonna have to find an empty machine\" you mutter to yourself walking swiftly to the end of the hall giving only a glance to your loved ones in there chambers. \n\nReaching the end of the hall you gaze down to scan the floors below you, seeing row upon row of status chambers all illuminated with a green 'occupied' light. No luck. \"Perhaps higher ground will show a empty chamber\" you mutter to no one and advance to the upper floors, here the chambers where different they where probably reserved for the rich or something. \n\nThe top floor yields no empty chambers and is filled with something else entirely, status pods, large units that could easily fit an elephant that seemed to shake when approached all flashing red warning lights. Gazing into one pod you see a creature, something that looks like someone took darkness and snow and smashed them together and then animated the result. \n\nThe creature twitched at your approach and the red light quickened its flashing and *CRACK* hardly a blink and the creature whipped up and cracked the pod, darting towards you again and again. in shock you forget yourself and stumble back into another pod setting off another creature. Sweating now your brain kicks in *you need to find a chamber.* Now. \n\nUnfortunately you never made it to a chamber. All that was found when they looked for you was an empty chamber, two empty pods and a trail of snowflakes.", "(this is the first response i've wrote so it might not be the best)\n\n\"See you in 3 months!\" I shouted back at my friends before leaving the bar. I would have left later if I could have, but today was a special day. It was the day where the entire populace of the UK would enter an artificial slumber for the next three months. When the prime minister first talked about hibernation on the news back in 2015, everyone thought of it as a piece of rubbish. Even I did. That was until my college brought in a government scientist to give us a long-winded explanation about energy, economics and life expectancy. Long story short, the country was running out of energy sources, and fast. Apparently the only solution was to place the entire country into hibernation capsules. \nBuzz! I picked up my phone - mum calling. \"Hi darling! I'm waiting for you in the parking lot! The council called and said the hibernation men will be round at 3pm so we need to get home!\". Argh! Every time the hibernation day comes round mum comes and picks me up, but I said I'd drive home myself this time round. \n\n\"I'll be there in a moment..\"\n\n\"Ok, bye!\"\nI wandered over the parking lot glancing at my surroundings as I walked towards my mother's car. This was the last of the high street I was going to see for a while. A thin layer of powdery snow covered the ground and buildings. It was a while since it had snowed in the heart of Edinburgh. 'It's a shame I won't be awake for it...' I thought, as I opened the car door. \n\n\"Hi, son! How were your friends?\"\n\n\"Good\". I paused. \"Mum, why exactly do we have to hibernate? I mean, a bunch of scientists came into college today but they didn't really...\"\n\n\"So we can save energy, I think\"\n\n\"But there's lots of oil in the north sea that Scotland could use, isn't there?\"\n\n\"The parliament has to think about the rest of the UK too, you know\"\n\n\"I thought the Scottish parliament had autonomy...\"\n\n\"Don't you remember the results of the last referendum?\"\n\n\"Shit. Now I remember.\"\n\nTwice had the Scottish people rejected their independence, the second time the margin was even smaller when I voted. Even though my father was English, I always felt a stronger connection to Scotland for some reason. Maybe it was to do with living in Scotland during the holidays before we moved back here, or the fact that I spent more time with my mother when I was younger, when my father was out working could have been it. Regardless, I was all for independence. \n\nAbout half a decade ago, in 2017, hibernation capsules started to be manufactured for the UK. The technology was fairly rudimentary at the time, but by the time it was released to the public, it was far more advanced than anyone thought. The first time I hibernated, I was nervous. Now, not so much. I love technology, and once drifting into an artificial sleep every December became a regularity, I got used to it. Even though I have my own apartment, it's a tradition for me to spend the hibernation with my parents. That's why every year I stay out late as possible with my friends and my mother comes to pick me up.\n\nMy mum turned on the radio as we turned on to the road leading to the village we lived in. It was the last news broadcast before 'the big sleep' as the media put it. Nothing new... just the same headlines from yesterday: \"Middle Eastern conflict coming to an end claims US president\", Massive 10 car pileup in the south of England-2 dead\" and \"Scientists confirm oil is located under...\"\nMum turned off the radio. \"We're home!\" \nAnd it was just in time, too. The men from the council representing the hibernation company, I think it was called \"Solcom\" , had arrived at our house. For someone who was supposed to be from the local council, they were immaculately dressed. Both men wore tidy suits, one grey, one black. I found this odd, seeing as last year, only one man came round, and he was a plump, scruffy looking engineer from Aberdeen, and wasn't as nearly smart looking. \n\nThe taller one spoke out. \"Are you Mrs. Stuart?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"We're here to assist you and the rest of the street into entering hibernation.\"\n\n\"Okay. Come in\"\n\nWe led the men to where our capsules were. Since we got the house renovated, it was hard to find space to keep the capsules. We ended up putting them in the garage as the rest of the house, including the attic was full of junk. \nAs usual, the garage was dank and cold, with no shortage of cobwebs. I thought by this time of year, all the spiders would have cleared out, but obviously not. The three hibernation capsules were lined up in a neat row, ready for us to get in. My dad was working abroad that year, so his capsule would remain empty.\nMy mother called from the kitchen \"I'll be back in a bit, I'm just going to take the cat to the cattery. It would probably be best if you got in your capsule while I'm gone\". I headed for my capsule while the men booted up the house mainframe computer. Even though they were busy staring at a screen, I felt their gaze on the back of my head. I touched the open pad on my capsules screen, only to be greeted with a grinding noise. Stuck. Not the first time the door has been jammed. \nThe tall man speaks out again \"that doesn't sound too good\"\n\n\"No, it doesn't\" the shorter man replied \"try your father's capsule instead and we'll see if we can fix yours before your mother comes back\".\n I lay down into my dad's capsule while the men set about inputting various commands into the capsule computer. Relaxing music started to play, [along with the noise of various computer parts](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V3UK9RYf28c), and I started to ease up. \nAs the door closed to the outside world, and the capsule pressurized, I heard the tall man say something to me: \"Just relax and breathe\". He smiled at me before everything faded to black.\n\nI woke up with a start, and a searing pain in my left leg. I was still half asleep, but I figured that the men forgot to change the amount of energy fluid that was being pumped into my body and I believed I was receiving what would have been my father's dose. My mind was cloudy. There's no way I could get to sleep now if I tried. I decided to get up, I thought there might be a spare packet of Horlicks floating around in one of the kitchen cupboards that could help me drift off again. I pressed the awake button, only to find out that , like my capsule, the door had jammed. \"It probably had something to do with the garage being so cold\" I thought. I sighed, and commanded the capsule to open up. \n\n\"Command: Emergency release\"\n\n\"Command denied. You are not permitted to re-emerge without official permission\" a robotic voice informed.\n\nI sighed again. \"Command: Emergency override\"\n\n\"Command denied. Emergency overrides are not permitted without official permission. Please wait for assistance\". The capsule attempted to contact the nearest repair terminal, which was about 5 miles away. \"Bugger\" I muttered. I remembered reading about some sort of emergency access panel that the manufacturers shut off. I thought that that would probably be my only chance of escaping. I fiddled around for ages with various cables and switches but to no avail.\n\nThe robotic voice boomed \"Caution! Tampering has been detected!\". I felt the air get thicker and thicker. It was trying to sedate me! I started to bash the sides of the capsule, when a cover popped open. I leaned over to my left to see what was in it- the emergency panel! I smashed the buttons as hard as I could and, before I knew it, the door swung open.\n \n Pitch black. I felt around the wall until I came across light switch. Nothing. The power was out. I shuffled around the wall some more before I came to the door of the garage. \"If I can remember, the mains box is to the...\". Lights! I could finally see. Everything in the garage looked normal, my mother was in her capsule like I expected. But what caused me to wake up? I shuffled back over to my capsule, still half asleep. \"Computer, time?\"\n\n\"It is 10:01 am on the 5th of January 2031\" it replied. I'd woken up far too early. \n\n\"Run system diagnostics\" I commanded.\n\n\"Running... One error found.\"\n\n\"Present information\"\n\n\"Information as follows: Error encountered today at 9:58am. Error code 245-33E-UIJ: unable to sustain sufficient air circulation\". Well, that made sense.\n\nThe computer interrupted my thought \"would you like to catch up on recent news while you're waiting for assistance?\"\n\n\"Sure\"\n\n\"Command not recognized:\nI sighed. \"Yes\"\nJust as the news came on, I heard a knock at the front door. \"Mr. Stuart? You'll need to come with us. Mr. STUART?! He's not opening up sir, should I break down the door?\".\nI panicked. I took a glance at the screen. News headline: 'England drains Scotland of oil'.\nThen I heard a crash. They'd got in.\n\n\n", "The hibernation law made sense, I suppose, but it was frustrating to be locked away from your loved ones for half of the year. I'm not one of those 'half-life' conspiracy theorists that kept bounding around wild accusations that humans lived twice as long before the freeze. They couldn't know for sure anyway, the freeze had been going on for generations. The freeze was a normal part of life, the history of it taught to the children as they progressed through school in the form of a nursery rhyme. I could still remember the tune now, although at twenty one, I wasn't the still the same little girl that I was then.\n\n \n\n*The air grows warm and its time to slee-eep,*\n\n*Now shut your eyes and don't you pee-eep,*\n\n*The summers long but we can live throu-ough,*\n\n*And in the winter they'll come to wake you-ou,*\n\n*Now sometimes we know that it might fa-il,*\n\n*And then those people will be rejoiced in ta-les,*\n\n \n\n*The heroes that died so that we could live,*\n\n*Our eternal thanks we must always give,*\n\n \n\n*And the engineers that suffer so-oh,*\n\n*That work all summer so that we may go-oh,*\n\n*And the administrators that work through-out,*\n\n*Those are the heroes that we sing ab-out,*\n\n*And we rejoice in their dear sacrifi-ice,*\n\n*To save our souls until the blessed i-iice,*\n\n \n\n*But now our song grows silent and still,*\n\n*And we sleep and dream of the future ideal.*\n\n \n\nI found that I was humming the song as I walked along, pleasantly surprised to see that the crowd around me had picked it up and were humming along too. I took another step forward in the long queue to the individual freezer pod that would be my home for the next 6 months. The song was also a sad reminder of the risks of freezing, with pod failures being more and more common each year. The rumour still persisted that the pods that failed most often were young women and girls, often between 12 and 25 half-cycles in age. I refused to worry about that though, that's what the engineers were for, working tirelessly whilst we slept to ensure that the pods were sustained. The Administrators too, checking and dealing with the problems that must invariably come in the dreaded summer. There were other rumours of course, more believable yet, that said that whole freeze sections had failed over the last few years. These sections tended to be the poorer sections of community and even though the engineers cited constant communications problems as the reason for no contact, the people were growing suspicious. A large glowing door broke my train of thought. I had arrived at my pod. I stepped in and saw the measurements and readouts appear on the inside of the rapidly closing door, measuring weight and height, body fat ratios, skin, hair and eye colour, all perfectly correct as always. I looked out of the window in the door, feeling the pod start its cooling cycle and the subtle shift as it was pulled away from the walkway into the facility to make room for another pod to be filled. I shut my eyes just in time, not wanting to be frozen with them open, and missed the look on the face of the nearby administrator, hurriedly talking into a communicator. The look if I had seen it would have confused and frightened me. Excitement. Pure excitement, reminiscent of a tiger stalking its kill.\n\n \n\nThe noise of the door opening was the first thing I heard, knowing from experience that I would be unable to move for at least a minute or two. I could hear voices, but this soon after a freezing I wouldn't expect to understand what they were saying anyway. I felt a hand reach out and stroke my face, the warmth almost burning after the cold of the Freezer. The hand dropped down, away, onto my breast and then down further to my groin. I started to panic and the words finally made themselves clear in my head. \"This one is perfect, have her sent to my quarters immediately\" the voice said in an elegance that belied its coldness, \"and have the others we've selected sent to the dukes and bishops\" he continued \"the king will be down to select his own packages personally I should think\". Another voice murmured its assent and started to pull me out of the tube. I struggled to open my eyes, the lids still frozen shut. I managed to make a tiny crack and caught the image of the man walking away down the corridor in his smart administrator's suit. He turned just for a second allowing me to see a flash of his face. \"Oh and don't forget to have the engineers declare all of these accidents\" he said with a devilish smile.", "Dear diary, I just woke up halfway the hibernation. When I went outside I found out why the government forced us to sleep, what they didn't want us to see. The war on drugs is a cover-up. There's cocaine EVERYWHERE!", "I woke up, yawned, and took a stare,\n\nfor hibernation was finally over.\n\nBut that couldn't be, I felt cold air,\n\nand I saw no spring clovers.\n\nThe freezing white and winter's woes\n\nhad yet to cease to be,\n\nMy furry face and freezing toes,\n\ngave proof enough for me.\n\n\n“But why is it” I asked myself,\n\n“That I’ve awoken now?\n\n“And more than that, what is the deal?\n\nWhy does Jack Frost pull us down?”\n\n\nI stared in the darkness, contemplating life,\n\nI never had a stable job, nor a loving wife.\n\nI never owned a fancy house or had kids of my own,\n\nNo legacy to speak about, nothing special to be shown.\n\nI was an okay hunter, for whatever that was worth,\n\nBut even then, in my group of friends, I was still by far the worst.\n\nI decided from that point on that I’d do something that would inspire awe,\n\nBut looking around, it was pitch black, I couldn’t even see my paw.\n\n\nI tried to wake the others but I couldn’t move a hair,\n\nand in the end I realized that I didn’t really care. \n\nThe answers to my questions were as apparent as a deer.\n\nAfter all, how could I forget I’m just a stupid bear.\n\n\n", "As the sun gleaned through the window, Olanna rolled over and opened her eyes. She blinked, bringing her hands up guard her face. \"That sun's so bright\" thought Olanna as she sat up. She looked around and then looked at the clock on the desk. 9:37 AM 2 Jan. \nOlanna spun around to look at the head of her bed where the large canopy that looked like a hairdresser's dryer blinked a red light. She kneeled and dragged her finger over the control panel, trying to find a reset button or a signal to get a technician to come help. She blinked and blinked and wiped her eyes. Her head felt light. \"That machine is strong,\" she thought. Too woozy to read, but too restless to stay in bed, she got up and walked down the hall towards the kitchen, stretching and scratching all the way there. It was there that she first truly looked out the window. She could barely remember what winter looks like since the hibernation law was passed 17 years ago. Outside, the sky was a piercing blue, and a light dusting of snow covered the small backyard, picnic table, and twin maple trees she planted 2 years ago. She looked over into her neighbors' backyard and saw their swing set at rest, tucked in to a blue tarp, dusted with snow, some leaves that were never raked up, and the t-ball post in the middle of the yard.\nWhile brewing tea, she looked through the directory to find the contact number for hibernation machine repair. She found nothing. Maybe this wasn't supposed to happen. The kettle whistled and she poured the water into a cup. She held the cup in both hands, squeezing her shoulders up, finally feeling in touch enough with her body to detect how cold it is when you're not under the hibernation machine. She walked to the front of the house and looked out the bay window at the neighborhood. All the houses, like cookies from a cutter, were single story, with the door towards the right side of the house, a single door garage to the left of that, and a bay window that sticks out of the front of the house just enough to let you creep on neighbor's farther down the street than normal windows allow.\n\"The road's plowed\" thought Olanna. She knew some government people and medical persons did not hibernate, but surely they did not bother plowing with just a few people driving about. She sipped her tea. Her body shook at the sensation of ingestion, something it was not planning on experiencing for another month and a half. She sipped again and finally tasted the nice honey flavors in the tea. She kept looking out the window, enjoying the view, enjoying the quiet. It felt as if she started hibernation yesterday, but it was almost two months ago!\nAs her eyes bounced from house to house to tea mug to house, she began to notice hints of little footprints in the pathways from doors to driveways. She saw that Miriam's house and Gretchen and Aaron's house had the little markings, but Joe's and Eric and Thom's did not. \"Why their houses?\" She looked farther down the road and saw that Jennifer and Alan's house had the markings, but Silvana's house did not.\nAs she thought about what separated the houses, she looked down at her own path and saw no little markings. \"Children!\" she muttered out, her voice not responding too well from the months of disuse. \"Those houses have kids.\" She looked back up and down the street, remembering that Joe had a daughter, \"but she's at University.\" \nA chill ran up her spine as she imagined the children walking out of the house. \"I need to call the police,\" she thought as she turned to find the phone. Just then, a large truck, like a truck used to transport money between banks, came down the road. She heard it whine to a halt in front of Miriam's house. turning around, she saw a little boy get out of the back of the truck along with two men in white lab coats. The two men looked up and down the boy. \"Julio. That's Julio!\" Olanna tried to say, realizing it was Miriam's son. She watched as the white coated men turned around and grabbed another boy from the back of the truck. He was dirty, thin, unkempt, and in distress. \"Julio? she thought, wondering if that faded, worn down soul could be him. \"Then who is that?\"\nThe tall, polished Julio grabbed the straggling boy from the two men. He bent his head back and clamped his teeth into the scraggly boy's throat and ripped it out. He chewed and bit more, pulling more and more away from the throat of the boy until his head and shoulders were detached. Olanna's tea spilled over her mug as her hands shook. \nJust then, the upright boy spoke: \"Voice acquisition is complete. You may move on to the next house. Thank you.\" The two white coated men took the corpse and the head and threw them in the back of the truck. Julio walked back up the path and into his house.\nThe two men drove slightly farther down the road and three girls of different ages got out of the back of the truck in front of Gretchen and Aaron's house. \"Their daughters?\" The same process of throat evisceration took place, as three struggling girls were brought out one at a time.\n\nOlanna watched the truck drive down to Jennifer and Alan's house as the three girls walked inside their house. She spun around and sat down on the bay window seat. Her mouth hung open, her eyes rarely blinked. She shook her head side to side. \"Did I ever do that?\" she thought, remembering that she was just 6 when the Hibernation law was enacted. She got up and walked over to a mirror. Her dark smooth skin was tight around her strong cheek bones. Her hair was still braided tight on her head. She looked down at her fingernails, white and pink. She looked back up and met her eyes in the mirror. It was then that she notice her right eye was slightly less open than her left. She leaned in and pulled the eyelid back. She saw a hint of dark blue and stumbled back, dropping her tea mug to the floor. She looked again, pulling back her eyelid to see a solid blue mass above her eye, where it should have been pink. Her other eye was fine.\n\nJust as she sat down, tears streaming down her face as her body ached in confusion, the door was broken down and in walked a tall, strong woman wearing a bright yellow trench coat. In her hand, she held an object that looked like a TV remote. Olanna recognized that the woman was Dr. Flyer, her gynecologist. \"Dr. Flyer?\" Olanna began to ask. Before she could finish, Dr. Flyer spoke, \"How many times do I need to keep resetting your stupid machine?!\" Dr. Flyer pressed a button on the remote and aimed it at Olanna.\n\n----\n\nAs the sun gleaned through the window, Olanna rolled over and opened her eyes. She blinked, bringing her hands up guard her face. \"That sun's so bright\" thought Olanna as she sat up. She looked around and then looked at the clock on the desk. 10:12 AM 7 Jan.", "\"Time to go to sleep\" announced the loudspeakers.\n\nIt was a cold and dark evening. Winter was approaching. \n\nPat Rick was sitting in his incubation tube at the National Sleeping Facility in Detroit. Millions of incubation tubes were around him. The building was enormous; a 100 story tall facility that was 40 miles wide. The entirety of the United States congregated every November to the NSF to sleep. Nine hundred thirty six years ago the American government had declared that citizens had to undergo mandatory hibernation in the wintertime. \n\nThe reasons of hibernating was long forgotten by the general populace. It was simply a way of life. \n\nPat Rick looked at the clock. The time was 11:59:59:99.\nAs the hour struck midnight, millions of incubation tubes closed simultaneously and the United States drifted into a deep slumber.\n\n\n...\n...\n...\n\n\"Good morning Pat Rick\".\n\nPat Rick was ripped away from his sleep. He felt his consciousness return to his body. Something wasn't right. The facility was still dark. The only lights in the room was the soft faint glow of every tube. \n\n\"Bing Now. What day is it today\" said Pat Rick to his smartphone.\n\"The day is December 25th, 3056\". replied his smart watch. \n\n\"DECEMBER? That's not good\" thought Pat Rick. \n\nPat Rick opened his tube and walked around for a bit. He observed everyone still sleeping. The collective soft humming of each tube made for a strange atmosphere. \n\n\"How strange\" thought Pat Rick. \"Am I the only one awake?\".\n\nBut then there was movement out of the corner of his eye. Whatever it was moved quickly. \n\n\"WHO'S THERE\" shouted Pat Rick.\n\nSilence.\n\nFreaked out, Pat Rick got on his motor skateboard and made a beeline to the exit. However, he never made it to the exit. Something grabbed Pat Rick by the legs.\n\nHe turned around and looked at the grabber. It was a service robot. \n\n\"We have a winner!\" exclaimed the robot.\n\n\"What the-\" said Pat Rick, but he was cut off because all the lights in the facility turned on. The President of the United States of America was standing before Pat Rick. She was looking half dead, like she had prolonged her life through hibernation or something.\n\n\"Nine hundred thirty six years\" said the President. \"It has taken us this long to find someone who has developed an immunity to the sleep technologies of Santa Claus\". \n\n\"Excuse me?\" replied Pat Rick.\n\nAs it turns out, 936 years ago Santa Claus said \"Screw it\" and gave up delivering gifts. Now instead Santa Claus appeared every winter and made all the other countries go to sleep forever. They didn't die, just go to sleep. How did we not notice that all the other countries were dead? Turns out the reason we closed off all connection to the outside war wasn't because of the looming threat of nuclear war. \n\n\"You must go and defeat Santa Claus\". Then the President died because of old age and happiness that she found someone who had developed a resistance to Santa's sleep attacks.\n\n...\n...\n...\n\nPat Rick was brought outside. He stood there alone in a desolate world. The howl of the empty world was deafening. \n\n\n\"HOHOHO MERRY CHRISTMAS\". The roar exploded all the windows of the NSF. The ground exploded in front of Pat Rick as something landed in front of him. It was Santa. Glorious beard and all.\n\nPat Rick pointed his gun at the demon but then was instantly put into a slumber. Turns out he hadn't developed a resistance to the Sleep powers at all. It was a computer glitch. A mistake.\n\nBecause the president was released from her tube, nobody would be waking up any longer.\nIt was assumed that if the president had awaken, the savior had been found and that the person would activate the release codes which would wake up the remaining humans from sleep.\n\nWhoever designed that program needs to be fired.\nWow.\n\nAnd so the world lay barren. \n\nA meteor hit Earth and exploded everything. \n\nThe end. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "The law came into effect ten years ago. Five years ago, they began enforcing it, and made hibernation machines available to the public at no cost.\n\nThey claimed it was due to rapidly dropping temperatures - making life in the winter impossible, unless you were in stasis - only a skeleton crew remained active during that time, buried deep in heated bunkers, close to the Earth's core.\n\nToo cold to survive.\n\nAs I glanced around the empty streets, I realized they were right.\n\nShit.", "\"Unit 5712 GG 3434 - good morning.\" Electronic words, spoken by an almost, but not quite, human voice. \n\nMy eyes flickered open. The usual tinfoil taste of Somnia lay on my tongue. My familiar sleep chamber wall stared back at me, including the words \"nighty night\" I'd written in permanent marker during my second Hibernation Cycle. I reached down to scratch myself - fingertips brushing the condom catheter an instant before I remembered it. Amber light slowly increased as I lay there for the next fifteen minutes, feeling the air of the chamber warm up. \n\nEight cycles, and it was still a nuisance. \n\n\"Would you care for Re-Emergence tips?\"\n\n\"No,\" I snapped. I'd heard it all many times. And I'd never followed the official recommendations anyway. Fuck the lukewarm shower, fuck the ten minutes of jumping jacks and jogging in place. All I wanted was some joe and a cigarette. Maybe some toast, and not the hideous packet of gruel they said was \"easy for a Sleeper to digest\" for your first meal upon waking.\n\n\"Today is Friday, March fifth, 2027,\" the voice finally continued, a sign that the chamber would open soon. I peed a dribble as it spoke, releasing the leftover Somnia into the waste system. As usual, I wasn't hungry, but I felt like I could drink gallons of coffee. Juice. Water. Anything liquid, really. \"The time is nine-fifteen. Would you like Summary?\"\n\nI ran my tongue over my teeth in contemplation. \"Sure, what the fuck,\" I finally croaked. My voice was raspy, vocal chords disused to anything beyond my snoring (a problem that had contributed to my divorce nine years prior). \n\n\"Answer unrecognized. Would you like Summary?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I groaned, as the chamber locks snapped open. There was a barely audible, high pitched whine as the lid of my plastic sarcophagus slowly lifted away, letting in more low amber light from my bedroom. \n\nThe voice prattled on, through my ceiling speakers, about world affairs, as I got to my feet, removed the catheter, closed the chamber, and stumbled to the kitchen. It wasn't the worst Hibernation Hangover I'd had - that had been my third cycle. This one had just left me groggy, with a mild taste of drugs in my mouth, and a weird cramp that came and went in my left thigh. World events hadn't changed much. The war in the Middle East was still winding down. Colonists on Mars Station Beta were still struggling along, with a couple new deaths, but making it, blah blah blah. I wasn't awake enough to really process any of it. I never was until I had my coffee. \n\nMy kitchen, although lit by the same (slowly brightening) amber glow, had its usual thin film of dust. Checking the fridge showed everything I'd expected. You had to prepare for the Hibernation, and that included tossing anything that would spoil or rot in the fridge while you snoozed away from October to March. No cream. No milk. I'd just take my brew black, then. As usual, on the first morning. \n\nThe voice continued a litany of news stories I'd missed, none of which had any impact on me directly. I put grounds in the filter, poured water, hit the button. Yawning and stretching, I rubbed the cramp away when it twinged in my thigh once more. Brown coffee smell flooded the kitchen as I flexed every bit of patience I had. Once enough for a full cup had dripped down, I yanked the carafe out and filled said cup. \n\nDelicious. Even without cream. Or milk. \n\n\"Pause,\" I finally said after a few more swallows. The lights had brightened in my kitchen, almost to full strength. \"Unit: Forecast.\"\n\n\"The forecast today is.\" \n\nNothing beyond that. \n\nI sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. \"Unit: Status check?\"\n\n\"Unit is online and operational. 36.2% system resources used.\"\n\nOkay, so it hadn't locked up, which had been my suspicion. My home system, as all others, had been manufactured and installed by the Federal Somnus Initiative Department. And like many hundreds of others, it had been prone to lockups and fatal errors from day one. Rebooting meant walking to the control panel back in the bedroom and hoping that a handful of restarts and error reports would get the goddamn thing back up and running. It sometimes had given me shivers to think that this piece of government equipment was all that kept me alive during Somnus.\n\n\"Unit: Forecast?\"\n\n\"The forecast today is.\"\n\nI balanced the idea that my Unit needed maintenance from a lowest-bidding contractor goon, and just writing it off as a glitch that would take care of itself. The latter won out. My shuttered kitchen window was two feet away. \n\n\"Unit, continue Summary,\" I ordered, while reaching for the window. \n\n\"November seven - Sources close to the White House confirm that the next New Christmas will occur on April fifteenth, 2027...\"\n\nI pulled back the blinds. \n\nWhen I first wake, even from a regular sleep, it takes me half an hour for my brain to really get in gear. So when I stared out the window, part of me wondered if I was still asleep. If this was a dream. But no, that couldn't be. You didn't dream while your blood was full of Somnia. I sat there naked, and eventually put my cup down. It rattled as the base of it met my countertop.\n\nThe view outside was dark as midnight, and there was snow falling. Lots of snow. A small drift, two inches high, had accumulated on the sill. I could also see the neighboring apartments. They were dark. Nobody else was Waking.\n\n\"Unit,\" I interrupted. \"Date and time?\"\n\n\"Today is Friday, March fifth, 2027. The time is nine-twenty-nine.\"\n\n\"The fuck it is,\" I muttered in shock. Snow in Houston? In March? Not impossible, no, but far from fucking likely. And this wasn't a case of cloud cover. The night - and yes, I realized it *was* nighttime - was pitch black. \n\nThat was when I heard someone open my front door. \n\n\"Unit,\" I said, as I pulled open a drawer. \"Identify intruder.\" No good. I was naked in the kitchen with a drawer full of spatulas and wooden spoons, as well as one pitiful egg whisk. Right. My knives were in the drawer on the other side of the kitchen island. \n\n\"Command unrecognized.\"\n\n\"Unit, contact police!\" I barked, pulling my longest carving knife out of the other drawer. Adrenaline tried to fight the leftover Somnia in my system, whch was an awful feeling that I don't recommend. \n\n\"Belay code 16-PQ,\" a gruff male voice said behind me. I whirled, knife at ready in my shaking hand. \n\n\"Copy,\" my Unit responded.\n\nHe was tall. At least eight inches taller than me, dressed in a black trench coat, white button down shirt, and slacks. He was in his fifties, and looked a little bit like a car salesman I'd seen on television - thick and burly, with a big fake smile on his face. Smiling like he hadn't just walked into a stranger's house and found them naked, pointing a knife at them.\n\n\"Who the fuck are you?\" I croaked at him, brandishing my weapon in what I hoped was a threatening gesture.\n\n\"Hold on,\" he chuckled. \"You're Royce, right? Royce Petersen? Tax ID code 5712 GG 3434?\"\n\n\"Ye.. who the..?\" I tried to figure out a good, imposing response, something that would keep him over *there* and away from *me*.\n\n\"I'm Brian,\" he said. Then he pulled out a small gun and shot me. Everything went black.", "The first part of hibernation prep is the worst: packing up your house. Dust covers go over everything - couches, counters, beds. Everything gets switched off, bar the freezers. The fridge gets emptied prior to the big sleep and pets get taken to the pet-sitter facility. \nI hate saying goodbye to my cat, Marlon. I hate being surrounded by hundreds of other distraught humans dropping their confused pets off at the pet facility; it's horrendously emotional. \nSometimes I think Marlon will be my last cat; I hate doing this to another living creature. He always treats me like a complete stranger when I pick him up after hibernation.\n\nI'm done now and the house is in order. In the garage is the HibSleep machine; a coffin-shaped device filled with warm aqua goo. I fit the respirator and lower myself in, starting the hibernation cycle from the panel inside, in front of my face. \nI lie awake for a while, contemplating the scenario which led us to this; to humans having to go down for the winter: \nEveryone knew, back in 2015, that the environment was toast. Humans were just too selfish and we burned through too many resources. Huge quantum computers were built and the only viable answer was that humanity cut its collective emissions by a quarter. \nDebate raged as to how to mandate these cuts, since capitalism still ruled. In the end, the governments mandated that all citizens - bar a small force of maintenance techs - should be put to sleep for 3 months of the year, to produce the necessary cuts to our carbon emissions. \nOn top of that, population restrictions were put in place, as well as restrictions on living space and animal ownership. I was only allowed a cat because I lived alone - no spouse, no children. \nIt was only a stopgap measure though. \nBy using hibernation technology, we had only bought ourselves another 50-60 years. The problem was still there. \nWith that final thought, the cocktail of hibernation gasses finally pushed me under and my body entered hibernation sleep.\n\nCrimson flashing lights woke me from my sleep. \nGroggy, I managed to focus on the panel in front of my face - there was some kind of issue with my hibernation machine. The error code was meaningless to me, but there was an instruction for me to wait for assistance from a technician. \nI've always been mildly claustrophobic, so I pushed open my casket and levered myself out. If I needed to wait for some geek to fix the machine, then I'd do it in my lounge with a cup of Joe and a blanket, not in my freezing garage, covered in blue goop. \nBack inside the house I put the kettle on and waited, after toweling myself off and putting on a thick, fluffy bathrobe.\nI started shivering despite the robe and pulled on a pair of yoga pants, a flannel pajama top and a hoody. None of the household electronics had been left on, so I didn't know how long I'd been in the hibernation tank. Suddenly I felt, very, very ill. \nI made it to the bathroom before I puked, but only just. \nMostly it was more blue goo, mixed with whitish-yellowish froth. \nI vomited again and this time crimson laced the vomit. \nShit. \nI stumbled to the phone and picked up the receiver - did emergency services still run during hibernation period? I didn't even know. I'd never considered it. I'd never needed it. \nThere was no dialtone on the other end. \nFrantic, I staggered to the bedroom and yanked open my bedside drawer, pulling out my cellphone with trembling hands. After an interminable wait, it came on. I lay in the fetal position on the plastic-wrapped bed, stomach cramping hard. \nThere were no bars on the phone. No emergency call option. \nI crawled off the bed and pulled on a coat from the closet. Red splattered the path to my letterbox as I stumbled out to the street - from my nose I guessed. I pinched the bridge of my nose and kept walking, heading for the police station, two blocks over. \n\nI'm not sure when I lost consciousness, but I woke on the street. Blood and more frothy vomit surrounded me. I heard voices and instantly felt relieved. Help was here. They would take me to hospital and fix me. \n\"For *fuck sake* another runner,\" griped a man's voice. \n\"Why can't they fuckin' stay in their coffins and die like everyone else.\" \nWhat? What did they mean *die like everyone else?* \n\"Shit, she's still alive.\" \nI managed to roll onto my back, still clutching my useless phone somehow. \n\"Morning sweetheart,\" said the first guy; a huge lad in his early 20s, wearing heavy overalls and rubber gloves. \n\"What's... what's going on? Why am I dying?\" \nHe grinned and shoved his gloved hands into his waistband. \n\"You all die, luv. That's the secret ya see? The government never figured out hibernation technology. Too hard. Too expensive. By *cloning* technology? Cheap and easy; grow 'em in less than a week.\" \n\"But,\" I struggled with the idea, my mind was slowing down now with the fluid loss, \"why am I dying, what do they put in the tanks?\" \nHe grinned again, \"That shit? It's just blue jello. You're dying because that's how they made you. Clones only last 10 months, tops, babe. After they murdered the original you, it was always gonna happen.\" \nThe last thing I heard was the sound of a truck backing up and his voice yelling, \n\"Load her up boys, we got six hours to clear this suburb. Chop chop!\" \n I felt my body being lifted and tossed into a pile of other bodies. \nNow I knew why Marlon always treated me like a stranger after hibernation." ]

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[ "Four specimens of the collective entity known as BOB, which ultimately consisted of all plant life in the universe, manned the controls of the Battle-Cruiser hovering just outside the ellipse of the rocky moon of the planet they designated “BX2.” It was a blue-water planet on the fringes of a spiral galaxy, not known for any intelligent life. The Navigator studied the myriad reports and telemetric scans scrolling across the wall display where the planet slowly revolved.\n\nThe Navigator was a rather lengthy purple tree specimen with large spiky green and yellow leaves at the top of his thin stalk. This Bob was in charge of the maps, piloting the warship, and making sure that they didn’t get lost or hit a star coming out of a wormhole. Navigator Bob was also in charge of making sure that the other Bobs knew what he was in charge of. Originally from a large jungle planet in the Heboldives System, he had joined the collective navy at the relatively young age of three-hundred and four. \nBefore that, he drove a taxi.\n", "\"My father always told me to practice dreaming.\" An old man sat on a bench, resting his hands on his cane and talking to a small crowd of children. He wore a white suit, off-set by his grizzled beard and knowing gaze. \"My father said that if you practice dreaming, your dreams will become bigger and bigger until the world is too small to hold them anymore. At that point, magic happens.\"\n\nThe man sighed and quickly chuckled before looking to a little girl who was leaning forward and listening intently. She had golden locks and glowing blue eyes. \"You there.\" He said with a twinkle in his eye, \"What do you want to be when you grow up?\"\n\n\"A hue-man.\" She said, rocking on her heels.\n\nThe man laughed, \"No no. I mean... if you could do anything in the world, anything at all, what would you do?\"\n\nThe girl smiled and rolled back to her rump, flailing her legs in the air. \"I want to be an inventor!\"\n\n\"An inventor? Ah, you know I was an inventor a while ago. Why do you want to be one of those?\"\n\n\"I don't know. I want to help people.\"\n\n\"But you could help people by doing anything. Doctors help people. Scientists help people. People help people.\"\n\n\"But I'm not good at being 'people.'\"\n\nThe man leaned back and drew a deep breath. \"Then let me tell you a story of the most people-y person around.\"\n\nHe lifted his cane and rested it on his lap before waving his hands in the air. Suddenly every color imaginable began to spin around him, mesmerizing his small audience. It felt like time, itself, began to slow. Like the world began to unravel in his hands. And then... there was nothing. No light. No darkness. Just nothingness. A blank canvas, perfect for storytelling.\n\nAnd here is where our tale begins: with the telling of yet another tale. An old story on new ears. You see, humans are humans only when inspired to be themselves. We watch and learn as others create worlds of their own design and steal little bits and pieces of everything we see, eventually creating the most important thing in the universe: ourselves. \n\n----\n\nI can continue if you want, but I'll cut it off here. I don't think it's gimmicky at all yet, but maybe I'm wrong. ", "He wanted me to write \"something that doesn't end in a twist\" and rather to \"focus on the story telling\"... to which my initial reaction was to wonder what the hell that even meant!\n\nWhat exactly is a twist. Oh sure there's the obvious twists that we all know so well. The 90 degree plot turn that sets everything on it's head and causes one to reevaluate the whole fucking story. What about lesser twists though?\n\nTake for example, the screen play for Nottingham. You've never seen the movie, because the studio that won the bidding war hired a director who fucked it all up. Two guys wrote a spec script, which is like a demo tape but for working in movies. When you write a script \"on spec\" a.k.a. \"on speculation\" you're writing something that you don't actually expect to ever see made into a movie of any kind. What you're writing is a demonstration of how good you are as a writer, so that you can get work writing a screenplay for something a studio *actually wants to make*. \n\nFor example, you might write a script about a vampire love story that ends with a bitter sweet parting that reflects how fragile true love is, and how eternal the regret of losing it feels. You don't write that script thinking it'll ever have a cast of actors reciting your lines. You write it so that some producer will hire you to write \"Super Awesome Puppy Dogs 3\" or some other hollywood shitfest that any self respecting person would be ashamed to have in their Netflix queue. \n\nAnyway, there was a pair of guys who wrote a screen play about the story of Robin Hood, but told from the perspective of the Sheriff of Nottingham. In their screen play, Nottingham's a genius who uses what are at the time, cutting edge detection techniques in order to solve crimes. He uses a buck of water to find weak points in a wall so that his cohorts can break through. He uses ropes to track the path of an arrow and check for foot prints and finger prints. All of this was state of the art stuff for finding bandits in those days.\n\nMeanwhile, there's a murder killing the local nobles, and all signs seem to point to Robin of Loxley as the culprit. He's got to figure out if that's the truth, or if it's someone else. Speaking of Robin, rather than the noble soul portrayed in other telling of the legend, he's a drunkard, a braggart and a total prick who can't keep his dick in his pants long enough to avoid pissing off the fair Maid Marian who doesn't really like him all that much. She thinks of Robin as a boorish brute who is kinda foul. She respects Nottingham's intelligence and classy attitude, but since he works for the corrupt Prince John, she can't let that show. Marian knows that the people of Nottingham and Sherwood Forest need a matronly figure as much as they need a hero. She knows that without her, Robin will fuck up the whole thing. So she suffers his ill behavior, because that's what it's going to take to get the people to rise up.\n\nIs that a twist? If so how much of it is a twist? Maybe, ***the whole freaking story!*** It's a great story. Go find the screen play online, read it and then go find a corner to curl up into a ball and weep when you realize that this is the story that got turned into Ridley Scott's *Robin Hood*. The one from 2010, with Russell Crowe, and a bunch of other people that you probably can't remember (I think Cate Blanchett was Maid Marian, but don't quote me on that, and I know Mark Strong was Nottingham or Prince John, but I'll be damned if I can tell you which one) because it barely made a blip on the cultural radar.\n\nSo here we have a scenario where the version with a twist is far better than the version without a twist, but wait... it gets so much more interesting when you look at the details.\n\nRecall, if you will, that the screen play was a **spec script**. The writing team that wrote this never really expected to see this story put onto the silver screen. They just want to get some work is all. They sent this around to various studios as a calling card to say \"hey, were writers and this is how good we are\" in order to get a gig writing the kind of beautifully mediocre garbage that people keep complaining about examples of \"what's wrong with hollywood\" even though those movies keep making enough money to get more of them made. \n\nCalling all of these cookie cutter factory assembled movies an example of what's wrong with an industry is like saying three of a kind and a full house are shitty poker hands and anyone who draws them should feel like losers, despite the winnings they walk away with. Hollywood has always been a business, the only difference is that the internet generation has gotten old enough to be cognizant of how much of the world around them is built on marketing and merchandising and they have a venue to vent their frustration bigger then anything that has ever existed in human history. The fact that humans aren't born in lumped together years just serves to make things worse. Every year or two, there's a whole plethora of people reaching the age where they become cognizant of the shitty world around them. Thus the cycle will never end, it'll just be a sliding sample of the global population that's online complaining about the same bullshit.\n\nEvery now and then though, the complaints are spot on. Okay, most of the time they are. The fact is though, that most people in the world are okay with mediocre or shitty entertainment, but they aren't the ones blasting their opinions all over the digital landscape.\n\nSo anyway, the guys that wrote their spec script to get shitty gigs got a surprise. The studios loved it. It was a fresh and bold take on a classic tale that had global recognition. It took something everyone knew, and found a way to present it that no one had ever tried before. Seriously, in the more than 100 Robin Hood films (not an exaggeration by the way, there've literally been more than 100 movies about the guy) that have been made, none have taken the rather classic in itself idea of \"let's tell the story from the bad guy's point of view\" and run with it. A bidding war was started to be the ones to roll with the notion. The pair picked the guys offering the biggest paycheck, and that studio got Russell freaking Crowe to sigh on as the leading man. Everything was looking up... at least until reality looked down and took a dump.\n\nRemember that movie Gladiator? The one with Crowe directed by Ridley Scott? Well, those guys got along great on set, so when the studio asked Russell who he wanted to direct his Nottingham movie, his top pick was Ridley Scott... an that's where it all went wrong. Scott wanted to do a Robin Hood movie, not a Sheriff of Nottingham movie. He looked it over and said \"This is like CSI: Sherwood Forest!\"... wait a second. Go reread the last sentence a few times. Specifically the bit about \"CSI: Sherwood Forest\". Think about that for a moment. CSI, but in Sherwood Forest. Doesn't that sound FUCKING AWESOME!? Well, it doesn't sound fucking awesome to Ridley \"After this I think I'll go make Prometheus*\" Scott. \n\nMr. Scott decided the script should be rewritten. Then he read the rewrite and asked for another rewrite because he wanted more archery and action. Then he had the \"brilliant\" idea that Robin Hood and The Sheriff of Nottingham should be **the same fucking guy!** Of all the bad ideas he had, this was the one that was so bad that everyone on the project with the clout to tell a guy like Ridley \"I once directed classics like Legend, Blade Runner and Alien\" Scott that he was out of his fucking mind.\n\nEventually, the path of compromise resulted in a Robin Hood movie that felt more like a prequel than an actual Robin Hood movie. We basically get to watch Russell Crowe repeat the stolen identity schtick from Gladiator and go from being a nobody, to being a nobody impersonating Robin of Loxley, to being a nobody impersonating Robin of Loxley taking on corrupt rulers, to being a nobody impersonating Robin of Loxley telling his companions that they need to go hide in Sherwood Forest to fight tyranny and cut to credits. That's right, we went from being on the cusp of a new take on an old legend that questions the nature of heroes and villains and historical perspective, to getting a Robin Hood movie that doesn't get to the Merry Men in Sherwood fucking Forest until the end of the movie in a piss poor attempt to set up a sequel that we'll never get or even want.\n\nSo ask yourselves this dear readers and OP... Wouldn't a twist be better than the tepid storytelling that comes from not wanting to be too different?\n\n*For the record, I liked Prometheus, but I still think it was unnecessary and totally see why other people hate it." ]

[ 1, 2, 4 ]

[ "1422287995", "1422275352", "1422270429" ]

[ "Mother lay dead, ripped open from throat to tail. The stink of death filled the clearing. Father had gone the same way three days ago, and before him Brother Moon and Sister Brook. We who had hunted this forest forever, were being hunted. This we knew now, our hope in some horrific coincidence having bled out with Mother.\n\nI turned to Brother Cloud and Sister Wind, and we wordlessly walked out into the night. We, little more than pups, knew what had to be done. Nothing is more important than the pack. We would have our revenge if it took a life time. \n\nTimes were lean that winter, we came to know the empty feeling in our bellies, and the sight of ribs through fur. Always we felt a presence at our back, but never did we catch a glimpse of our Pack's murderer. We knew fear that year.\n\nWe survived, and thrived and the winter before was not as difficult as the one before. We grew into our adulthood, our teeth grew long, and strong. We were balls of knotted muscle, always hunting, never finding. And for ther first time in many years, we began to despair.\n\n------\n\nI awoke to the stench of blood and death. Sister Wind lay dead, in a pool of blood and intestine. She looked like Mother.\n\n\"Awake my brother, he has struck at us again,\" I said. \"We have grown complacent, these last years, and it has killed Sister Wind.\"\n\n\"Look Brother, our Sister made him feel it, before the end, a bloody trail leads into the undergrowth,\" said Brother Cloud. \"We may yet find our mark.\"\n\nAnd so the hunt began again with renewed vigor, we padded off with hate in our hearts. It took only a few hours to find our target. It lead to a great den, and a great Boar. He was the largest I had ever seen. \n\nWe challenged him then, crying \"Come and face us, monster so at last our Pack can sleep.\"\n\nAnd he came.\n\nWe circled for a time, Cloud and Sun, biting at heels, looking for any opening. We found one, and my mouth filled with blood. I was sent spinning through the air, and Brother Cloud struck, leaping onto the beasts back, and latching on to its throat. I rose unsteadily to my feet, as the great boar fell to his. I looked into his eyes, and he smiled.\n\nThe boar jumped and rolled and Brother Cloud was caught beneath his great bulk. I saw the life leak from his eyes then.\n\nWe beheld each other; the Hunter and the Hunted. We rushed at each other, and came together in a whir of tusks and teeth and claws. I bit down on a throat, and did not make the mistake my brother made. I watched his lifeblood spill upon the ground, and the light fade from his eyes. The beast was dead, but my quest was not. I entered the den, and saw them. A sow, six piglets with fear in their eyes. They felt may teeth that day.\n--------\n\nI have a new pack now, and many pups. Son River has gone missing, I must go look for him.", "Three wolves, strong with Soviet ambition build house out of steel. \n\nCapitalist pig arrives, fat with food stolen from worker class.\n\nPig see work wolves perform. Pig envy wolves. Pig see scrap metal where wolves see house. Pig bring hacksaw, made of weak western metal. \n\nPig applies hacksaw to tempered steel, hacksaw dulls. Pig curses factory that made saw, unable to accept blame for poor technique.\n\nWolves do not laugh at incompetence of the swine planning to oppress them. Instead, they prepare. Wolves load rifle left to them by grandparents, hard working wolves who stood stoic during revolution.\n\nPig knocks on door. Claims to be premier of Soviet Republic. Wolves are not fooled. Through gunport in door, rifle barrel emerges. Fires single shot, so not to waste valuable ammunition. \n\nPig falls to the ground bleeding from chest. Blood stains the proud earth, but the earth is not defiled. It drinks the blood of capitalist, and fertilizes the fields so that crops may grow. \n\nWolves bury pig without ceremony or funeral. Funeral and religion just means of western imperialism to indoctrinate worker-class into belief in afterlife rather than improve current conditions in here and now. \n\nLater, wolves find spy from NATO dressed in red hood. Wolves contact KGB, and are awarded the highest civilian honors in the Soviet Republic.\n\nSuch is life in glorious Mother Russia!" ]

[ 5, 27 ]

[ "1422306764", "1422304223" ]

[ "*deletes Facebook* \n*goes to sleep*", "Delete World32", "Curious, I turn on my phone and discover an unfamiliar app simply titled Terminal. I open it. \n\n>_Tp user AmadeusWolf to 29.9792° N, 31.1344° E.\n\nA great gust of searing wind bursts from what was my closet door. I'm standing on top of the world. There's a sandy grit to the air. Looking out on a vast desert, I realize, I've opened a new door. A door to a world filled with more possibilities than there are grains before me. \n\nThis is only the beginning.\n\n>_man -k ", "[Absurdly relevant!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CoUqVkEBKos)", "As I awoke this morning I felt an eerie sense of calm, like that which one feels before a storm. It was 8 AM and my alarm was sounding like every other Sunday reminding me that I needed to get up for my morning run. I began to notice something was off as my eyes finally began to obey my mind and remain open examining the world around me. I had started to ponder on the issues of the world and became deeply invested in finding a solution quickly.\n\nI shook my head and tacked it up to the lack of sleep I had gotten the night before due to the fire I was called to put out at a retirement home. Chief told me he would be recommending me for this years selflessness and bravery award, but I was just doing my job when I ran back in to save Mrs. Johnson's cat Jeffrey.\n\n\"We need your decision on the topic at hand sir\" I heard, from what seemed to be coming from within my head. \n\n\"What topic?\" I thought to myself. \n\nAgain the voice in my head spoke, \"The conflict in Africa that has been overlooked for almost two centuries. All before you have chalked it up to too much work.\" \n\n\"Have I gone mad?\" I thought in silence.\n\n\"He does not know yet, we have to break it to him gently.\" A new voice came into the conversation.\n\n\"Sir, I suggest you go take a shower and contemplate this discussion when you get out.\" Said the first voice.\n\n\"Were the fumes as bad as Chief said? Was my brain chemistry effected by the antique varnish that entombed all of the furniture in the building?\" I sat on the bed for what seemed like an hour until my snooze alarm came on and I decided to hit the shower.\n\nMy thoughts were too quiet, all I could come back to was the new voices in my mind that weren't mine. \"What did they mean and how did they get there\" I asked myself. As I stepped out of the shower and over to the sink I could see a luminous red glow above my head in the mirror. I stepped closer and wiped away the condensation to reveal the word \"Admin\" floating above my head in the reflection.\n\n\"What on earth is this!\" I exclaimed.\n\n\"You were the next in line.\" Said the first voice.\n\n\"When she died last night in France, your act of bravery that put your own life at risk solidified your choosing.\" Boomed a third voice.\n\n\"And what are you I might ask?\" I said trembling at the unknown response I may receive.\n\n\"***WE ARE THE PANTHEON***\" Boomed the voices echoing through my mind in unison as the words materialized into knowledge.\n\n\"And what might I ask am I now the 'Admin' of exactly\" I responded with as much of a guise over my emotions as a whale in the desert.\n\n\"The earth of course\" Said the first voice.\n\n\"And it is now your duty to embody the opinions and concerns of the entire human race\" Said the first female voice I could distinguish.", "Joe slumped in his chair, spinal cord unnerved. His usual to-do list for \nthe day was:\n\n> beg the admins for admin\n\n> see if i got admin\n\n> pay for admin (?)\n\n> eat poop sleep (?)\n\nOnly one of those was on his to-do list today.\n\n> <[User]megaproguy98> hey guys say hi to ur new amdin\n\n> <[Builder]fhgffagf> lol noob\n\nStrange. Joe gazed into the mirror once more, introspecting on his rather \nunsightly peach fuzz, and of course, the glowing red [Admin] tag. If he \nwasn't admin in his most favorite game forever, then he must be admin... \nin some other game? Joe realized that he doesn't play any other games.\n\n\"MOOOOM I THINK THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG WITH ME\"\n\nHis mother rushed out to diagnose him, almost tripping over the piles of \nsoggy laundry.\n\n\"What is it, dear?\"\n\nHe pointed into the mirror, receiving strange looks from his mother. Not \nthat he didn't already get strange looks.\n\n\"..\"\n\nDespite Joe's repeated cries, his mother thought him crazy. Not that she \ndidn't already think him crazy. Dejected, Joe collapsed down on his bed, itself collapsing from the sheer force.\n\n\"Shit.\"\n\n~~~\n\nJoe woke up with a bunch of splinters in his back and pelvic region. A\nmessage was overlaid on his retina.\n\n> Congratulations on securing your admin position. Check the mod queue for \n> more info. Try !help for your commands, and don't forget to ask us for \n> assistance if you need any.\n\n> Try not to abuse.\n\n> Thanks.\n\n> ~ the developers\n\nWeird.\n\nJoe didn't read any of that, though. Instead, he \nyelled for help. No help came except for a menu, which he also happened to not read. \nDisgruntled by all this reading he would potentially have to do for the \nnext couple of *a whiles*, and the pain starting to set in, Joe began to sing in the most elegant way possible. \n\n\"FUCK ME!\"\n\nAnd the rest, they say, is history.\n\n~~~\n\nDiscovering the true extent to his powers, Joe set to work. He was gonna \nmake those noobs pay. And he'd start by griefing everything they loved. \nAnd fucking their moms. \n\nNot that he didn't already fuck their moms.", "~ System upgrade complete...\nLog initiation complete...\nIntegration comets...\nNew user profile complete...\nInitiate boot sequence in 5...\n4...\n3...\n2...\n1... ~\n\nI woke with a start sitting up straight as an arrow, my eyes snapping open. That's when I should have known something was wrong. Not only did I never wake up that easily, but it was still morning AND I wasn't in desperate need of coffee just to open my eyes. That said... Something was off... I just couldn't quite tell what.\n\nRather than dwell on it I decided to roll out of bed and grab a shower before heading to work. As usual I avoided the mirror and slipped into my phone screen while I waited on the water to heat up. After 10 minutes of waiting and fiddling with the knob though... No hot water. Again. I fucking hate this apartment. I scowled at the frigid stream of liquid pouring from the spout and resigned myself to another day of near hypothermia.\n\nAs I stepped in and my feet touched the water I immediately said to the manager even though I knew she couldn't hear me \"Fix the godamn water heater and stop being a lazy fuck you twat.\"\n\nThat's when I almost jumped out of my skin as steam began to rise from the bathtub floor as hot water began to wash over my feet. I was surprised, but what looked like red text caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. I turned to look at it but it was gone... Or never there... I don't know, I just want some fricken coffee.\n\nAn hour later I was fully dressed and fed, thermos in hand and headed to my car enjoying the fresh Texas breeze of the morning, a time of day I rarely saw. The manager came rushing out of her office, nearly knocking me over in the process. I expected to berated for something again today, but instead she smiled. Even though she was covered in sweat, dirt and grease I could see that this 28 year old girl was actually cute when she smiled. I mentally punched myself for listening to the sirens song.\n\n\"Hey! I just wanted to let you know that I fixed the water heater, the air conditioner and both of the lights. I'm sorry it took so long, but for some reason I woke up and felt like a new person for the first time in years. So I'm going to be doing a lot of work around here. Just let me know if you need anything!\" She said smiling widely, winked and was gone. Maybe I have lost my mind...\n\nI made it to work and through most of the day without incident... Strange things kept happening; like Brenda from HR approving a raise I didn't ask for just after me thinking about it. My bosses coming by to thank me for my hard work... After I had just been bitching about the lack of appreciation around here. And the cute girl in accounting slipping me her number just when I was thinking about her making the first move. Yeah, I was freaking myself out. I'm probably just imaging it...\n\nI walked to the bathroom to splash some water on my face and hung my head over the sink while holding onto the sides. What a strange day... I looked up into the mirror to see if I looked ok... And jumped up and back in shock and surprise slamming into the wall and pulling the hand dryer down completely.\n\nNow I knew I wasn't imaging things... But just to be sure I got up slowly and looked again. Yep, I'm crazy after all. Above my head hung a large red sign; ADMIN it declared in bold letters. Admin of what?! I spun around so I wouldn't have to see it anymore... And my eyes fell on the broken hand dryer. Fuck, that's a write up. Then I had a thought... A test to see if I was crazy or it was true...\n\n\"Delete damage and repair with same values.\" I'm in IT, what did you expect? A poem?\n\nBefore my eyes the wall and dryer seemed to glitch and disappear then be replaced like nothing had ever happened. Did it work? Yes. Am I not crazy? Yeah, jury's still out on that one.\n\nThen I noticed a slowly pulsing shape in the corner of my vision. I looked at it perplexed as it wasn't there a moment before. I reached out and tried to touch it with my fingertips and felt resistance, like I was pressing an actual button. These words appears in front of me:\n\n\"Installation errors resolved, reboot required.\nYes\nNo\"\n\nI pressed yes... And fell to the floor and into blackness.\n\nWhen I woke again I was surrounded by two things. Several coworkers with concerned faces, and by icons of all shapes, colors and sizes. The second was far more disturbing than the first, but I had to ask anyway.\n\n\"What happened?\"\n\nA collective sigh of relief was exhaled and some even smiled.\n\n\"Yeah man, your ok. Looked like you just passed out from the heat or something. You said some weird stuff brother. Like you were some kind of computer or something.\"\n\nI half smiled and waved off concerns, but the boss sent me home early and I gladly walked out as quickly as possible.\n\nAs I reached for the door to the outside a small female voice whispered into my ear. Even though I already knew the answer I looked around to make sure. No one was near me.\n\n\"Hello. My name is Cynthia. I know this must be scary as hell for you, I know it was for me. I promise that everything is ok and they you're not crazy. This is real.\"\n\nShe was silent for a moment so I asked;\n\n\"What the hell is going on? What is an Admin? Why are things happening around me when I want them too?\"\n\nShe was quiet for a few moments then spoke again.\n\n\"You've been chosen to be an admin for the planet Earth. I am Cynthia, another admin like you. My job, since I was the newest until now, is to teach you and make sure you're ok. Can I meet you?\"\n\nFor some stupid reason I just nodded... But then there was a tap on my shoulder and I realized I had a death grip on the door. Letting go I turned and saw the epitome of adorable, closet gorgeous, nerd girl of my dreams.\n\n\"Hi there, sorry if I startled you, but you'll get used to porting as time goes by. I'm Cynthia, another admin of Earth. I'm going to be showing you the ropes. That ok?\"\n\nI nodded lamely.\n\n\"Good, then before we begin I need to explain one thing. Earth isn't real, this is just a simulation.", "I sauntered into the hospital room, empty save a single man on a bed. This man has been in a coma for 4 years or so. Concentrating for a moment, the man suddenly disappeared. \n\n'*Kicked for being AFK*'. \n\nI smiled and walked out. \"Who's the gay nerd now asshole!\", I whispered as I walked out.\n\nHow did all of this get started? One day I woke up and saw \"Admin\" floating above my head. After making sure I wasn't tripping, I've been testing my 'powers'. So far I have kicked criminals and assholes out of the \"Server\" that is Earth.\n\nA couple weeks after cleaning out the jails, I went after some answers, like why the fuck I'm an Admin. The gods have no answer, for they are merely mods. To get some real answers, I'm gonna have to find the owner. Or owners.", "\"Admin? What the fuck?\" The blue foam of toothpaste from my mouth seeps down. After noticing it was getting on my chest, I spit. I looked back in the mirror. The red text of the word \"admin\" peers over my head.\n\n\"Admin of what? No, no, no. I shouldn't be thinking that I'm some admin and the world was a computer game. I should be thinking why the fuck am I hallucinating.\n\nI wave my hand over the admin text. It swishes and sways, and it also moves when I tilt my head left to right.\n\n\"Ok this isn't weird. Just the word admin over my head. It will go away. Just like the storm trooper taking me into custody that night with shrooms. Everything will be okay.\n\nI showered. Admin is still there. I prepared breakfast. Admin is still gleaming over my head. I got into my car and left for work.\n\n\"Coffee, I need some coffee.\" I stopped by a local coffee shop knowing of my distaste for coffee. Frantically I walked up the door, expecting everyone would see \"Admin\". Nothing. No one looks.\n\n\"A small coffee please. Do you see anything weird about me, Liza?\" \n\n\"Nothing at all, sir. Room for cream?\"\n\nI nodded. I sat down. I think Liza needs to get new contacts. Wait, how do I know she wears contacts? How do I know that person in front in me just broke up with his girlfriend? And why the hell is my coffee is going to take exactly five minutes!\n\nExactly five minutes passed and my name bellows throughout the cafe. I grab my coffee and sat back down. I stare into my coffee. The coffee here sucks and there is 5,496 people who feels the same way. Someone is sitting at my table.\n\nA woman in red, with a big red admin text above her head. \n\n\"How much do you know?,\" she said with her lips not moving an inch.", "I rolled out of bed. Big stretch and then I walked to bathroom. I smacked my lips and scratched my butt. I looked in the mirror.\n\nA large, red “Admin” floated over my head.\n\nI looked around. No one was there. I tapped on the mirror. Seemed normal. I moved back and forth. The “Admin” moved with me. My hand passed right through the “Admin” without causing any harm it appeared.\n\nI sat down at my computer and googled what an admin was. It appeared that an admin controlled a server. I didn’t control any servers.\n\nMy next move was to type my systems into Google. WedMD said I had cancer. Mayo Clinic said to contact my general practitioner. I finally found a Reddit thread about system admins. \n\nI laughed. Looked like they googled ninety percent of things. I figured I was pretty good at that but still hadn’t figured out what my specific conditions meant. \n\nAn older looking forum came up next in the search results. I found a thread discussing my exact symptoms. Woke up. Check. Went to a mirror. Check. Red “Admin” floating above head. Check. \n\nThe forum thread ended with the original poster saying, “Thanks for all the help. Figured out what it was myself.”\n\nI looked in disbelief. What did they figure? What was the solution? Nothing else in the forum. I clicked on the user name. No activity for the past ten years. No email listed in the profile.\n\nI lowered my head onto my desk and pounded my forehead against the plastic surface. “Why? Why? Why?” I said. “Why wouldn’t you explain what you found?”\n\nA thought came to me. I popped up and sat upright. Could other people see the “Admin” above my head? Crap. I really didn’t want to go to work today.\n_______________________\nThanks for reading! If you enjoyed this check out my subreddit /r/Puns_are_Lazy.\n", "I woke up to to a loud noise of human chatter. Walking to the mirror i wondered why my neighbors were being so noisy today. As i stood in front of the mirror my blurry vision clearing I noticed it for the first time. Hovering above my head were the words \"Admin\" in bright red. \"What the \" I said to myself. I moved my hand to remove it and it and it went right through it like it was not even there. I moved left right and tilted my head and even moved back and forth but the Admin stayed put. I quickly got on video chat with my friend to gain an explanation. His face appeared on screen eyes shut from the extreme brightness of his phone and spitting curses at me for waking him up. But the most weird part was the Blue colored text above his head that read User and towards the left of that were some stats. His name,Life Karma,Age etc. \" Dude what is happening to us what are these freaky titles doing above our head\". \"The freaky what?\" he said groggily. But by that point he was wide awake surely he had noticed the Admin above my head or the User above my head. Nothing no Reaction from him. I panicked and disconnected the call. I walked out to my balcony hesitantly and sure enough everyone below me had the Titles floating above their head along with their information that i could read as easily as an open book. Peoople even complete strangers to me had their life history open to me. This is getting weird I thought. I opened my phone again and noticed a weird new app i did not remember downloading It was named Admin Control. I opened it and the first thing said \"1434 Flagged Activities awaiting your attention\" \n\n3 Hours Later.\n\"So yea that's the gist of it.\" I said as we walked along the sidewalk of a busy city. i noticed people all around me with their Titles displayed clearly. Walking beside me was the girl I met this morning and the only other person who had Admin as her Title. At first I had been relieved to finally meet her i had thought she would explain everything to me and my duties will become clear to me but unfortunately she was just as lost as me. She had discovered the Titles just one day before me.\n\"I am glad i met you i have found more about our duties in the last 2 hours than I did in one day you seem to have a knack for this kind of thing\". \"I was once an admin for an internet forum although this gig is more of a superhero deal I guess.\"\nI looked at my phone again:\"3 Flagged activities within 5 kms\". we navigated to the nearest one using our instant teleport.\nTwo menacing burly men, one with a knife and a scared thin Guy fumbling to take off his ring while his glasses lay shattered on the ground. The burly men had a Karma negative 500 each. while the guy was at a positive 20. \"Get out of here or you will be sorry you came here\" One man shouted while waving his knife menacingly. I looked at the guy opened his inventory selected knife and clicked delete. Poof the knife disappeared. \"You plan to threaten me with what?\" I asked him calmly. At this point he started to freak out backing away from me he shouted \"Devil\". I started walking towards him opened my control panel selected the two men, Ban user, Time period 2 hours. \"I Think you need to reflect for sometime on what bad things you have done\" Confirm Ban. ", "EDIT: thanks for the gold haha. \nEDIT 2: posted some more, sorry if its not as good as the first part. but i tried :)\n\n\"fuck..\" i groaned as i got out of bed. My head was throbbing and my body felt much heavier than usual. Not the kind of heaviness that makes it hard to move. the kind of heaviness that you feel after you get in shape for the first time and gain some muscle. a sensation as if your limbs have enough momentum to keep going after you move them. No, This heaviness made me feel... powerful.\n\nstill, i must have gotten pretty fucked up for my head to feel the way it did. It was a throbbing pressure against my skull that wasn't just a typical hangover. It was so uncomfortable that before doing my usual routine of peeing, showering, and checking my phone. instead i headed straight to the nearest mirror.\n\nI'm not gonna say what i saw wasn't a surprise. In red text the word \"Admin\" floated above my head. That was a little weird considering i've never done any hallucinogenic drugs and words don't tend to float above your head. i moved my head and it moved with me. Than i noticed something that shook me to my very core. the word was in comic sans. \n\nNow as any internet aficionado and/or competent human being knows that's the most hated font. now at this point i start to freak out. But being the lazy guy i am i figure its probably all in my head and sit down in bed and turn the TV on.\n\nas if the day was only getting worse the first thing i see is bad news. More terrorist activity involving ISIS and horrifying stories about the aftermath of the attacks. I thought to myself how i wished everyone would just stop fighting so i didn't have to hear about it all the time.\nNot a second after the words \"PVP disabled\" popped up in the lower corner of my vision." ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 6, 6, 7, 16, 19, 75 ]

[ "1422341201", "1422355722", "1422371468", "1422333531", "1422332727", "1422351753", "1422347836", "1422348082", "1422339158", "1422321194", "1422332117", "1422314907" ]

[ "Humans are born curious just as any living being on this planet. We've heard many times how curiosity killed the cat, but tonight it's different. Curiosity frightened me. It warned me. My death is near and my reaper just entered the facility. I scurried my way into the hallways to find a place to hide. I started sweating heavily like i have been running for an hour. I know he's here but where? Every sound I hear now is as clear as hearing it in an amplified stage performance. My heartbeat was scoring this scene like I was in a horror movie.\n\nI took a deep breath as though I was going to dive into cold water when I saw the man pass through the room. This was it. I'm cornered. I can't go out this room without him noticing me. I have no choice. Clutching my gun I carefully moved forward behind the door and peeked through.\n\n\"This assassin or whatever he is is incompetent\" I thought to myself as I fired a single shot into his head.\n\nI ran as fast into my car for safety. I thought if someone wanted me dead they wouldn't just send one person for it. I'm smart, I know stuff. I sped through the road to nowhere. As I felt safe In the confines of this rolling metal I'm in I felt the need to stop, but to no avail, my breaks weren't working.\n\n\"Shit!\" I screamed and crash into a $180,000 Aston Martin with my $200 pink car.\n\n \n\n[proof](http://stunningpicture.tumblr.com/post/106999949847/180-000-aston-martin-killed-by-200-pink-car)", "\"Sir, that's when I felt the rope around my neck and I was strangled from behind, I blacked out from there.\" \n\nStill coming out of my unconsciousness everything is still garbled. Here I sit on the cold concrete. \n\n\"That's everything\" I said. I told the truth. I wasn't holding back anymore, I wasn't going to lie. Not after what I saw. \n\n\"Are you sure that's everything?\" said the voice. \n\n\"Yes! I said, that's the truth! I'm not lying anymore, I was dishonest in the past but now I am coming clean. You guys have scared the shit out of me and I don't want anymore of this. I promise I won't tell anyone a thing and you have my word!\"\n\nSilence.\n\nI replied back, in silence. I knew they were waiting for me so say something back but I wouldn't give them the satisfaction. Just nothing. It was a while, a long time, not sure how long, I'm still hazy. And then they finally broke. \n\n\"After consideration you have been deemed hazardous to Project Y and are scheduled for termination from our operations.\"\n\nI didn't know what that meant. Either I'm fired or I'm dead. Either way, same outcome.\n\n\"But due to your outstanding record with the service we have decided to offer you the choice.\"\n\n\"Choice?\"\n\n\"The choice to return to your life as you knew it before you were chosen, or you can choose to end it.\"\n\nMy instinct to just run home, take it all away, get back to my family, see my wife, kiss my kids, pet my dog, all came back. I could hear my childrens laughter, I could feel my wife's kiss. I longed to see them again. \n\nBut then I remembered what I just went through, all I've seen, all I know.\n\n\"I'll choose B.\"\n\n\nTHE END.", "I consider myself a good person. I never break the rules. I never get in trouble. I do what I'm told and keep my head down. As long as it pays the bills. But the night it happened, well, curiosity kills the cat. Or, should I say, curiosity kills the dead cat. Lets get on with the story.\n\nAfter the Citizen War, the Powers That Be decided to keep all the dates and times of peoples deaths in Libraries all over the country for easy access. It is two much work to travel to the Home-land in order to look up ordinary information. That night, I was positioned at the door. Normally, I get rooftop duty, but for some reason the Boss stationed me at the door. That's fine by me. Whatever pays the bills. But being at the door was new. Suddenly, I was closer to opportunity. No no, I couldn't. But, its just through the door. Maybe I could just peek. No no, I might get in trouble. Then I would have to travel to the land of Missed Opportunity to apply for a new job. But maybe just a peek?\n\nI knew how the library system worked. We all did. If there was a break-in, we were supposed to know where to get the file after the intruder was dead. I just couldn't stand it. All of this could have been prevented if I was still on the damn roof. Oh well.\n\nI walked into the main doors. It was eerily empty. I flicked on the tiny lamp in the corner, and proceeded to the section for the last names beginning with RIS. I checked behind me, just in case someone was watching. But I knew no one would be there. I opened the filing cabinet, and a shock went through me. My name was the second one. I was going to die soon. With a shaky hand, I retrieved the file. I peered at the slip of paper containing my death sentence. The date was today. In four minutes. \n\nImmediately, the alarm started wailing. Shit. First night at the door, and there's a break-in. I hastily put the file back and run over to the hidden alcove. As soon as the intruder appears, I'll taser him and pull his file. Then I immediately remember. I am going to in six minutes now. I hear gunfire outside, then something fall against the roof. Rooftop guards down. I check my watch. My death is in four minutes. \n\nI see a shadow appear along the sidewalk leading to the Library. It appears to be holding a long knife. Just my luck. Two minutes.\nThe shadow noiselessly approaches the door. I see the faint outline of a gun slung over his back. I get ready to shoot him. One minute.\nAlarm continuing to wail, I wait in a cold sweat, my palms gripping the trigger on the taser tightly. Thirty seconds.\nThe figure shoots the security lock on the door, and walks in. I can see his shadow dancing across the floor. Twenty seconds.\nA knife suddenly juts out of the wall next to the alcove. My adrenaline pumping, I hope to shoot the intruder before I die. Ten seconds.\nEh, what the heck. I jump out and start shooting... but to my surprise, the bullets go through him. Because he is a black shadow. Cloaked in utter darkness, the figure pulls out a short, thin, needle, that flickers... like a shadow.... in the flashing lights of the alarm. As I am stabbed by what feels like nothing, the alarm suddenly stops, and I hear a thin voice whisper in my ear....... \"Don't tempt fate...\" \n\nEDIT: Re worded stuff.\n\nThanks for the awesome prompt!" ]

[ 1, 3, 5 ]

[ "1422330232", "1422321551", "1422322559" ]

[ "Isn't the giant cockroach from Godzilla basically the same story? ", "Nice", "The Emergency Action Notification system was activated. Everyone stopped as the annoying buzzing silenced every television show and every radio station.\n\nThe drone of the system only stopped to replay the first message over and over:\n“The President of The United States has issued the activation of the Emergency Broadcast System: stay tuned for an urgent message from the president. This is an issue of national security…The President of the United States has issued the activation…”\n\nMoments later the President appeared on every station.\n\n“My fellow Americans, there has been an incursion of the coastal waters of Oregon by an unknown force. Between 40 and 60 unidentified vessels of various types have emerged from the depths. Please take shelter and I will keep you updated on information. The military has been activated to surround these people. May god be with you and god bless this United States.”\n\nThe message repeated every 3 minutes a cycle between the first message and the presidents. Three hours in there was in update by a White House spokesperson:\n\n“There has is an update regarding the situation off the coast of Oregon. Two miles off from the city of Astoria. No nation or terrorist organization has claimed to know anything about these people or where they've come from. What we do know right now is that their ships look derelict, all the ships are the names of US vessels sunk during or after World War II. There are 52 of them. No one has been seen on or below deck. \nWe have set up a naval blockade and overhead we have fighter jets flying a patter. Until further notice there will be no interstate commercial travel and absolutely no air-traffic. We will keep you up to date.”\nThere was a no news after that until the next day. Then the silence was broken. Instead of an American official giving an update there was a grey, faceless humanoid. He wore no clothes but a colonial tricorne and a giant medallions on the right side of his chest. He had no mouth and it was clear the television was making a sound but not speech. The scared American people all simultaneously heard him speak but only in their mind. There was a clear distinction between the sound around them, the sound of their thoughts and the sound of his thought. “I am The General. We’ve been watching you from below. We are not pleased. We will become pleased.”\n\nVideo of the F-21’s flying above the group of ships suddenly turned violent after they crashed to sea. The American ships fired at the armada and there was no damage at all to The General’s ships. The General fired volley after volley. The damage was unforgettable. The Marines stood no chance.\n\nThere was fear rampant among the country. Every store was looted, ever gun loaded and door barricaded. Neighbors shot neighbors and friend fought over canned goods.\n\nA few days went by, the entire state of Oregon was shut off from the rest of the world. In a week because people stopped going to work power-stations shut down. Millions lost power. The internet didn’t work for those who still had it and the Cell Towers had no one to manipulate them into working. A year passed and the word was The General was razing the mid-west. No one stood a chance against these slender, grey faceless men. The understanding was that they asked you to shoot yourself and you complied because you suddenly understood the goal of The General.\n\nA decade later the American people were dead and The General and his men disappeared.\n" ]

[ 1, 1, 2 ]

[ "1422370624", "1422461566", "1422455352" ]

[ "The giant bird circled overhead.\n\n\nIt was unlike any bird anyone had ever seen. It flew high, like a condor, but gave off a strange buzzing sound. It shined in the sun, almost like water.\n\n\n\"It is a demon bird.\" said the medicine man. \"It was sent from the underworld as a omen.\"\n\n\n\"I will kill it!\" said one warrior. He flung his spear high into the air at the bird. He was the strongest man in the village. But his spear fell back to earth without even touching the bird.\n\n\n\"It can't be killed.\" said the medicine man. \n\n\"But we can ward it off. Gather all the wood you can. We must build a fire.\"\n\n\nAll the tribe pitches in and creates a huge bonfire. It takes half the day. It is now close to evening. The medicine man mutters a few words and then lights it.\n\n\nThe giant bird circles twice more, and then flies away. The tribe cheers.\n\n\n\n\"Let's get back to base camp before we lose the daylight.\" says the plane's pilot to the copilot. \"We got enough pictures for this week.\"\n\n", "The young man looked upwards, his attention drawn to a distant, droning roar - his eyes seeing only the flickering light of a distant fire in the fading light of the dawn sky. Letting his bow fall to the ground, the man clasped both hands to his face and let out a single weighty exhalation. \n  \nHe was right. \n  \nDerided and laughed at, even by his own children, pushed to the edge of society for his outlandish assertions. Deserted by his lover and stripped of his status as a man of importance in the community. Endless suffering with no payoff, until now. The man, leaving his bow to the dust, ran with vigor back to the village that had so callously expelled him. \n  \n\"A ship! A boat that flew through the air a easily as ours cut through water! I've seen it with my own eyes. I knew that we weren't alone - there are others, beyond the sea. We can meet them, learn from them! All I need are men, ships, food...\" \n  \n\"Stop, my friend\", interjected an elderly, dour looking man who sat by a now smoldering fire, \"You are embarrassing yourself. Your eyes deceive you as they deceived your father before you. How could there be anyone but us? What could exist in the endless sea that surrounds us?\" \n  \n\"Bu-but...\" \n  \n\"No. You know as well as I do - we are alone.\"" ]

[ 2, 2 ]

[ "1422405047", "1422409601" ]

[ "I wonder if I let the dog out today? Eh, I probably did. He'll be fine, right? Fuck, I can't worry about that. I'm hungry though. I wonder what there is to eat? Jesus Christ, doesn't anyone go food shopping here? This is unreal.. when she gets home I'll need to ask if we can go out to get something. I wish my license didn't get taken away. I wasn't that drunk, or was I? I can't really remember. I...never meant to hurt those people. It was so long ago, but feels like yesterday. Come on, focus. Focus. Don't think about it. Remember what they said. Bad thoughts are like rotten fruit in a drawer. They make all the other thoughts rot. Ok, so. Milk, cheese, salsa, come on. No chips. It's alright. It will be cool. Bread, cheese. Well, I guess I could make grilled cheese? \n\nOk, butter, check. Bread, eh, this piece is moldy...come on. The other ones are alright. Okay, bread check. Pan...pan, pan, pan, pan, ah, there you are. Ok, pan. Stove, on? Right? Shit, I can't remember. Do I heat the pan first, or put the bread on than heat? How many pieces of cheese? One is too few, but how much is too much? I don't want to start a fire. Maybe I could microwave? Ah, yeah. That wouldn't cause any smoke or anything. Okay, I'll split the difference... two pieces of cheese? Ugh, but won't the microwave just make things soggy? What was that? Oh, it's just Max. I don't think I let him out.\n\nAlright, the dog is outside. Good, now...where was I? Okay, lunch. Is it still a grilled cheese if I put it in the microwave? Microwave cheese? Eh, doesn't sound good. This is stressing me out, I need to focus. Just breathe, Sam. Just breathe. It will all be okay. So, I should use the stove. A griddle perhaps? The choices, there are just too many damn choices. WHY DO I have to think of this so much. Why can't life be easier? I NEED TO CHOOSE. Just step back. It's fine. Alright, cheese is put away. Bread away. I'll just wait for her to get home, she's coming home right? Maybe I'll just order some grilled cheese. Yeah, that's what I'll do. I need to relax.\n", "Henry closed his eyes and breathed in through his nose, trying to smell the aroma of each of his options. After a few seconds of nothing, he opened his eyes. \n\n\"Well,\" he said to no one in particular, \"that was bullshit.\" \n\nThe morbidly obese- big-boned if you asked him- man looked down through the thick rims of his glasses- spectacles if you asked him- at his options. Cheddar, Swiss, Mozzarella, Pepper jack, Shredded mix, no cheese was wrong, but even more so, no cheese was *right*. Henry looked from one to the other, to another. Yellow, white, yellow again. Not the most appetizing of colors, Henry thought with a frown, but tasty nonetheless. \n\nThe cheese was a choice to not be taken lightly. He had to consider each option. Truly... consider them.\n\n\"Sir.\" Henry looked up at the voice. The woman looking back at him wore a *Subway* logo on her cap and shirt. \"If you're not gonna order, please step out of line.\"" ]

[ 2, 2 ]

[ "1422460956", "1422461182" ]

[ "Jane was sitting at home studying for her upcoming math exam when her phone rang. It was the Gimalkins again. They were looking for a babysitter while they went out for the night and they wouldn't be home again until the next morning. Jane has only ever been to their house once. It was the easiest 20 bucks she's ever made. They had called at 6pm and didn't need her to show up until 9pm; plenty of time for her to get ready for the job. \n\nJane had arrived at the Gimalkin's house with the full moon hanging high above her. That's weird, she thought, the last time they asked me to come over was a full moon as well. They probably just like the moonlight. With that final thought Jane had knocked on the door ready for anything that would happen during the night. “Hello, Jane, thanks for coming again! We left all the emergency numbers on the fridge in case anything were to happen,” Mrs. Gimalkin's said as she started to hurry outside. “It might be hard to reach us because were going out to ah... uhm... dinner. There might not be any service on our cell phones,” Mr. Gimalkin had added as he joined his wife. “There's no worry about anything going wrong. Your precious son is in good hands.” \n\n“Damian is in bed right now. So he should sleep through the night.” With that both Mr. and Mrs. Gimalkin had left. Jane decided to go and check on Damian just to be sure he was OK before she settled into her new surroundings. She opened the baby's door and saw little Damian laying there sound asleep, but something weird caught her eye. Damian was covered in what looked like brown fur from head to toe. Jane walked closer to the infant, worried about his safety. As she walked closer to Damian, the infant had rolled over, and it became apparent that the mysterious fur was nothing more than a weird looking blanket. With a sigh of relief, Jane let Damian sleep as she quickly and quietly left the room, shutting the door behind her. “You're overreacting Jane. There's no reason to be so worried; especially when you just got here,” Jane thought to herself, trying to calm her nerves back down. It was silly to be acting this way. There was no way all that fur would have come from the child and she knew that... now. \n\nAs time passed on, Jane was getting more and more restless. A person can only study so long before they need to go out and stretch. She figured while she was here, she might as well explore a bit. The house they owned was huge for only 3 people to be living in by themselves. The house had an upstairs with 4 rooms, a main floor with just the dining room and living room, and lastly a basement. Jane decided that she'd start from the bottom and work her way up. She reached the basement door and tried to turn the handle. That's weird, she thought, why would you lock a room in your own house. She didn't think twice about it and had gone towards the stairs. She passed Damian's room and went straight to the room at the end of the hall. Inside the first room was nothing out of the ordinary. It looked as though it was an office of some sort. There were computers set up on opposite sides of the room and a bunch of textbooks. Some of these books were in a foreign language but the ones she could read seemed rather strange. The books were about ancient lore of a weird mythical animal that would devour each other to gain power. Among this book were others all about different mythical creatures. Jane figured they were cryptozoologists and they studied these as their jobs. \n\nThe next room was just a normal bedroom that was obviously the parents'. Jane walked into the room with curiosity beaming in her eyes. The bedroom wasn't anything out of the ordinary. It was a beautiful room with ruby red walls, a nightstand, and a giant bed. Jane was about to leave the room when something on the nightstand caught her eye. As she moved closer her skin began to crawl. The thing on the nightstand was a large patch of snake skin! “Could this be a part of their studies?” Jane asked herself, “Then why would it be in the bedroom?”\n\nPushing the thought aside, Jane went back to the living room and put on a movie. The hours went by and Jane had fallen asleep in front of the TV. Jane woke with a startle as she could hear the baby screaming. When she went to check on him, Jane had noticed something odd. Damian didn't have skin like a normal person. His skin was scaly looking but was black in colour. When she touched the boy the scales were as soft as a kitten's fur. The other things Jane noticed was that Damian's eyes were pure yellow with slits in them, he didn't have a nose but instead two slits where his nose should have been and when he cried he had fangs sticking out where his canine teeth should have been. They were pointed like cobra fangs. Jane was freaking out! This is not possible, she thought. She ran downstairs toward the emergency phone numbers Damian's parents had left her. Her call went straight to voice mail where she told them that there was something really wrong with their son. \n\nThe child has calmed himself down after hours of screaming. Jane just couldn't go near that thing. She was a babysitter not a whatever the heck that baby was sitter. Jane didn't want to leave Damian without at least talking to his parents first since there could be a rational explanation for this that she just doesn't know.\n\nWhen Mr. and Mrs. Gimalkin got home at 4am; Jane couldn't be any more relieved. “Thank goodness you're here. There's something seriously wrong with Damian!” Jane couldn't control the shakiness in her voice as she moved toward the parents. As she got closer she realized something was really wrong. They didn't look at all like they had earlier. Instead they both had the same skin texture as Damian with more reptilian eyes. Their faces were contorted into what looked like a crocodile head with cobra fangs sticking out of their mouths. With a smile Mr. Gimalkin said, “What seems to be the problem Jane? You look like you've seen a monster.” Mrs. Gimalkin was right behind him with a grocery bag that was dripping wet. “Yes dear. What is so important that you had interrupted our hunt early?”, questioned Mrs. Gimalkin. “I uh... I thought there was something wrong with Damian. He didn't look very well when I went to check in on him.” Jane started to back away from the hideous creatures looking for any way to escape. Her only option was through the door that they were in the way of. \n\nThe creatures started walking towards Jane with a hunger in their eyes. “I'm quite sure you've been mistaken. See, there's nothing wrong with our darling Damian. He's just going through a phase and having live food in the house always makes him restless.”\n\n“What do you mean food?” \n\n“Well you see, when there's a full moon out, your species have chemical changes in your brain. Just like the tides. This makes it the most delicious thing in the world. That's why we have to do all our hunting on a full moon. Everything else just tastes too plain after sampling a lunar brain”. Mr. Gimalkin grabbed Jane by her arms as his wife pulled out all the brains from the bag and nonchalantly placed them in their fridge. Jane began to struggle and wriggle, but Mr. Gimalkin bit her with the fangs she had seen glistening earlier. Suddenly, she began to feel drowsy and couldn't muster the will to move, despite trying. When Mrs. Gimalkin was done putting away their groceries, she went over to Jane with a knife and smiled. “You look absolutely delicious my dear. I'm sure Damian would enjoy a fresh snack” with that she plunged the blade into Jane's head. \n\n“Too bad she was good at her job. If she had of just left Damian alone. things would have ended differently.”\n\n“Don't feel too bad, my dear. Teenage brain is a rare delicacy. Especially one with a brain like she had. She studied so hard while we were gone, by the looks of her brain. It even has a nice weight to it.” \n\nThey pulled out the high chair and got the latest addition to the family out to the dining room table, where they carved Jane's brain like a turkey. They all enjoyed their meal together, watching the sun rise as they shifted back into their human forms.", "A warm cloud formed in front of her mouth as she was leaving her house to go meet her friend at the Meßinger's house. It was a cold afternoon for the the month in middel germany. The Girl wore are brown dress under the green cloak her mother made for her, and her brown leather boots that looked more practical then fashioned left prints in the freshly fallen snow. \nShe promised to be at the Meßingers house before sun down but the sun would be setting soon. Worried that she may be late she started to jog. It was no problem for her, the work on her fathers farm made gave her a lot of stamina.\nShe arrived before sunset. It was a beautiful House that look even better today because the white snow made the black walls seem even darker. She knocked at the door and the a little boy opened the door. \"Hello, Lisa good that you came my parents are already out of the house. Come in.\". She steped into the warm foyer that was dimly light by the torches on the wall. \"Erwin, is Stephanie already here\" Lisa asked \"since I am kinda late i guessed she would be here before me\". Erwin just nodded is head in disagreement.\nThe afternoon passed quick. The sun already set, and it was dark outside only the light out of the windows shined a warm glow on the snow.\nLisa brought Erwin upstairs to make him go to bed. \nShe looked around in the living room at the many books the Meißners had and was just about to pull one out as somebody banged at the door. It was midnight soon. “His parents are probably home” she thought, as she went to the door and opened it. Two cloaked figures stood outside. She couldn't see who it was because the light of the full moon was dimmed by the clouds. Somebody steeped behind her and hit her over the head with something blunt rendering her unconscious.\nAs she slowly awoke she noticed that shes been tied to a table out in the woods surrounded by a lot of people with torches. There were three cloaked figures close around her. One wielding a sword. They whispered to each other: “We should wait till the moon come out so when can be sure. It's sad that we have to do this but I think your suspicion might been right Steph.” As she gained full conscious a strange sensation hit her body. The bite on her lag started to hurt again and the bones in her body began to vibrate. She tried too scream but only a strange howl came out of her mouth. The clouds started to lift over the moon and the clocked figures came closer. They were holding a the steel sword right over her heart. The vibration in her bones became stronger and her heart started pounding faster then ever before. The wet sound of meat and blood penetrated the night sky as the a bones in her body ripped out of the flesh. Her muscles started morphing around the bones. The clocked figure rammed the sword into her chest. Lisa didn't even noticed it as the pain of the transformation blocked out all her senses. As the transformation was complete her body was covered in black hair, her jaw was lined with razor sharp teeth and her hands were disfigured with sharp claws at the end. A sword was penetrating her chest but it only was a few inches deep. She ripped of the robes that tied her to the table.\nThe snow was colored red that night.", "After I spent agonizing *minutes* waiting on their couch, Mr. and Mrs. Moon came into the living room. As always, he was resplendent in his tuxedo and top hat, while she was wearing some red dress that was frumpy and concealed her figure. Both were shorter than me by several feet.\n\n“Now, Emily,” said Mr. Moon, serious as ever, “we’ve already fed little Luglar, so there will be no need for you to worry about that. It is crucial, however, that he – Emily, pay attention!”\n\nI snapped my eyes away from the photos of chemistry equipment and diagrams of DNA on the wall, and looked back at Mr. Moon. \n\n“Yeah, I got it,” I said. “No need to feed.”\n\n“It is crucial,” he continued, visibly annoyed, “that he be placed in the crib in the sunroom at precisely 10:04, and that he stay there for ten minutes, and not a minute longer.”\n\n“Gotcha, 10:04. I’ll plug in a reminder,” I said, setting my phone’s alarm.\n\nMrs. Moon clambered up onto the couch beside me and pinched my cheek.\n\n“Oh, just look at you,” she chirped. “I hope little Luglar grows up to be just as cute as you!”\n\n“I thought Luglar was a boy,” I said, hesitantly.\n\n“Never mind that,” said Mr. Moon, grabbing Mrs. Moon by the hand. “We must be off to the observatory. Don’t want to be late for couples stargazing night!”\n\n“Egad, no we don’t,” she said, as Mr. Moon dragged her out the front door.\n\nI scrolled through the contacts list on my phone. I knew that my parents and brother were at his violin recital, Sarah was listed as “away,” and a quick text to Brianna revealed that she was on a date.\n\nI sighed, and looked around the room. There was no television. The bookcase was crammed with highly technical books on astronomy, electronics, lasers, and nuclear physics, plus a couple of partially-done coloring books. Who are these people anyway? I sighed again, and resigned myself to doing some math homework.\n\n\nAt 10:01, my alarm went off, and I ventured into the nursery. The crib was circular in shape, and had cables leading from the bottom of it to several sockets in the wall. There was a mobile of the solar system hanging above the crib, with eerily unsoothing flashing lights, orange, green, and white. There were no other decorations, and no other furniture aside from a computer desk with a very modern looking desktop computer.\n\nI picked up Luglar. As always he was swaddled in white cloth. His cherubic face and little feet stuck out of the bundle. They seemed normal enough, but he was oddly heavy. As I carried him from the room, the lights on the mobile faded out, and I thought I saw a warm white glow emanate from his belly.\n\nI carried him to the sunroom. Like the nursery, the only furniture was a computer desk and a perfectly round crib, situated beside the massive windows. The full moon shone brightly down it. At 10:04, my alarm beeped again, and I set Luglar in the crib. There was a click, and dim orange and green lights blinked on from the ceiling.\n\nI backed away, a little afraid to turn my back on Luglar, and shut the door behind me as I left.\n\nAs I returned to my math homework, I received a text from Sarah.\n\n“u werewolf-sitting again?” she said.\n\nI shook my head and groaned. Werewolves! She’s thirteen like me, but she is still such a child! I’d better call her and set her straight.\n\n“Yo, Sarah,” I said. “You know there’s no such thing as werewolves, right?”\n\n“But think about it,” she whispered conspiratorially. “They’re very secretive. You’ve known them for months, and never once seen them eat. They always go out on the *full moon*. They’ve just *got* to be werewolves, out on some cannibalistic eating spree.”\n\n“No, actually, I think they’re aliens,” I replied, matter-of-factly. “They’ve got some alien mothership parked on the moon, and they go to the observatory to use their equipment to communicate with it. Just now, I set their baby down in some futuristic crib that’s directly in the moonlight –“\n\n“Moonlight!” Sarah shrieked. “Werewolf babies have to be fed moonlight; otherwise they don’t grow up to be proper werewolves! Don’t you go telling me you actually believe in little green men?”\n\n“They’re white, not green,” I corrected. “And they are real little. Mrs. Moon had to stand on the couch just to reach me. I don’t think there’s such a thing as a were-chihuahua, because that’s what they’d have to be.”\n\nI heard an annoying high-pitched whining coming from somewhere in the house. Ugh! What is with these aliens and their annoying high-tech equipment? Every time I babysit, there’s always something whining, or beeping, or producing smoke.\n\n“OMG!” Sarah cried. “The dreaded Mexican were-chihuahua! Emily, you’ve got to stop sitting for them. You know that once their kid gets a taste for human flesh, you’ll be his first target.”\n\nA beep came from my phone. The display showed an incoming call from Mrs. Moon.\n\n“The boss is calling,” I said. “I’ve got to take this.”\n\n“Look. Take my advice,” said Sarah. “Collect your earnings for tonight, then run! Okay? Later.”\n\nI shook my head, and took Mrs. Moon’s call.\n\n“Umm, Emily,” she said. “Brain … umm, I mean Mr. Moon wants you to check on the Lunar Gravito Light thingy and make sure he’s not getting too much exposure to the moonlight.”\n\n“Pinky, his name is Luglar!” shouted Mr. Moon, some distance away from the phone. “Just tell her to put him back in the nursery.”\n\nShit! He’s been soaking up moonlight for nearly fifteen minutes! That can’t be good for his weird alien physiology.\n\nI pocketed my phone and hurried to the sunroom. The orange and green lights were rapidly burning out, and the whine was getting louder and louder. I picked up Luglar. A bright glow emanated from his belly, but his perfect little face still looked fast asleep. I carried him to the nursery and set him down in the crib.\n\nThe orange, green, and white lighted mobile did not come back on. But the whining died down, and Luglar’s glowing belly faded.\n\nI retrieved my phone.\n\nFrom the receiver came an explosion, the sound of Mrs. Moon saying “Troz!” and then, silence.\n\nPinky Moon? Brain Moon? They picked those first names? Do the aliens really think those names will let them blend into human society?\n\nNot that it matters to me. Their money’s as good as any earthling’s, and I have absolutely no chance of being mauled by a werewolf. Because no matter what Sarah says, those don’t exist.\n", "\"This Friday... the 18th... of course I can babysit Jake again.. Uh huh, same rate... No problem, see you on Friday.\" Barely seconds after ending the call, I was already checking the internet to confirm a growing suspicion of mine... yup, this was the fifth time in a row the Jacobis had me babysit their son Jake on a night that coincided with a full moon. \n \nThe first time, I only noticed when glanced out the window. The second time, I chocked it up to a coincidence. The third time too, but damn, five times in a row definitely can't be a coincidence. Well, Friday is when I finally figure out what's going on and it definitely can't come soon enough and later that night I called Derek to confirm our plans. He was skeptical at first, but there was no way my geeky boyfriend could resist the chance to see a werewolf. \n \nWe could barely contain ourselves during classes that week and I practically raced out of my house early Friday evening to get to the Jacobi residence a few streets over. \n \n\"Hi Sam, how are you?\" Mr. Jacobi greeted me, a warm smile on his face, much like every night. They always seemed a bit too nice to me, but I'd figured they were just happy to get some time away. No, however, I know their secret. But there's still something I can't under - \n \n\"You okay honey?\" Mrs. Jacobi's pretty voice snapped me out of my reverie. \n \n\"Yes, Mrs. Jacobi, I'm fine,\" I lied. \"Just thinking about the test I had earlier today.\" \n \n\"You probably did fine,\" she said, a warm smile on her face, much like Mr. Jacobi. \"Well, Jake's up in his room, taking a bit of a nap. He might be a bit wired tonight, but don't worry too much about his bed time, since it's a Friday. See you in a few hours.\" \n \n\"Thank you, enjoy your night,\" I said, practically hurrying them out of the house so I could call Derek and have him come over. \n \nUnfortunately, despite all of our expectations, nothing extraordinary happened during the night. Derek and I watched TV and played some games with Jake, who seemed to be a bit quieter than usual. Derek left a bit early in the night, since he was feeling pretty tired, and the Jacobis came back around midnight and dropped me off at home, like they usually did. \n \nOr, at least, that's how I remember it. The truth was only revealed to me 3 days later when I finally convinced Derek to show me what he had taped. I knew there must have been something on it, since he avoided me like the plague that weekend, but I remembered nothing weird happening. \n \nBut nothing - absolutely nothing - could have prepared me for what he'd recorded. The camera feed showed Derek, Jake, and I playing a fun game of Sorry when the at precisely eleven, I seemed to freeze. I sat there, motionless, for 10 minutes straight, even as Derek kept messing with me. Then, in mere seconds, I... I changed. \n... \n... \n...\n\nI was so right, but so, so damn wrong; Jake wasn't a werewolf... I was.", "I was in the middle of re-reading 'It' for the hundredth time when my mom mom barged through my bedroom door, giving me a heart attack.\n\n\"Honey, you have to stop reading those spooky stories! Jeez, you look like you just saw a ghost or something... You're scaring too easily.\" My mom said in a concerned tone. \n\n\"It's not from the books! You can't just burst into my room like that, mom. I'm becoming a lady! What if I was, you know, busy...?\" I said to her with the intent to make her uncomfortable, so she would leave faster.\n\n\"Oh,\" she said awkwardly, \"I'm sorry, dear. You're right, I should start knocking. God, I guess you're growing up to fast for me. I know you're becoming a woman and-\"\n\n\"MOM! Just leave, please! Im reading and I'm really not really in the mood for one of your 'talks'\" \n\n\"Okay, I'm sorry, you can keep reading,\" she turned to walk out the door before turning around again, \"Wait- I almost forgot why I came in the first place. The Andersons asked if you could babysit again this Friday.\" She stood at the doorway waiting for my response. \n\nI threw my book aside and ran to the calendar hanging in my room. I examined the dates and drew my finger to this Friday, the 16th, and my suspicion was confirmed- it was a full moon.\n\n\"Zoey, honey, please don't tell me you're checking for the full moon again.\" She said almost angrily. \n\n\"I just wanted to check. And in case you were wondering, this Friday is a full moon.\" \n\n\"For the last time, the Anderson's are not werewolves. And I'm going to have to ask you to stop reading those books if you seriously think our neighbors are mythical creatures. I don't want to have to tell your father.\" She spoke in a stern voice. \n\n\"But, mom, you have to admit that it is a little weird that every time for the last year they've asked me to babysit it's been a full moon?\" I said firmly.\n\n\"It's called a coincidence.\" She spat back, unamused. \n\n\"And you don't think it's strange that the time I was running a little late they called all upset and freaking out that I wasn't there yet?\" \n\n\"They had a concert to go to! They couldn't be late!\" \n\n\"That's exactly what they want you to think! It's because sunset was approaching, they *needed* to leave before then, they-\"\n\n\"Zoey Marie.\" She cut me off. \"I'm not going to ask you again. If I hear one more word about the Andersons being werewolves, I will tell your father and you won't be reading any fiction, I'll tell you that.\" She glared at me.\n\nI sighed. I knew she wouldn't let me say anything else about it. \n\"Sorry.\" I said without meaning it. \n\n\"So, I take it you don't want to babysit for them?\" She asked.\n\n\"No! I mean, yes! Yes, I want to babysit. I was just joking about all that. Ha, ha! Funny right? Of course, I'll babysit!\" I had to say yes, I needed to dig around a little more.\n\nShe eyed me for a few moments and finally spoke, \"Okay. I'll tell them you'll do it. And no funny business, missy.\" \n\n\"You know you can trust me, mom!\" I said as she slammed the door, leaving me to my thoughts. I scanned my bookshelf for 'The Cycle of the Werewolf' and started reading to prepare for Friday. \n" ]

[ 2, 3, 3, 7, 13 ]

[ "1422510775", "1422485138", "1422497307", "1422499093", "1422481216" ]

[ "\"Ok, what's this about kidnapping a little gir-\" Teddie walked through the door, kicking his shoes onto a little rack in the corner before dropping the little plastic bags on his arms. \"Oh for fuck's sake.\"\n\n\"Trust me, I cannot explain this.\"\n\nSitting on a small couch in a tiny apartment, was scruffy-haired Kevin. His ruby-red bloodshot eyes stared down at a little girl napping in his arms. The little figure sneezed as the man put a finger on her nose, scratching gently at the soft skin.\n\n\"Don't-\"\n\n\"Shush, she's sleeping...\"\n\nSwooping the snoring girl up between his arms, the confused Teddie stared blankly at his friend. \"What did you do?\"\n\n\"I dunno. I got drunk, something happens, and y'know...\"\n\n\"How did you even drive a kid home? Seriously! I was with you all night yesterday!\" Teddie muttered in a shushed voice, rocking the child in his arms as her eyes opened up.\n\n\"Well, there was this smoking hot brunette driving a little stroller around. I chatted her up, and things well... happened.\"\n\n\"You banged its mother?!\" Teddie yelled, dropping the child onto the couch. Realizing the mistake, he rushed to pick it back up, cradling its head. \"No, better question! Who the hell would bring a toddler into a goddamn bar?!\"\n\n\"Her mother.\"\n\nThe girl began to wail quite loudly. Tears streamed down her cheeks as shiny, wet snot trailed down her nose. The sound was unbearable in a tiny, cramped apartment, like a bird screaming in its cage.\n\n\"You woke her up...\" Kevin mocked, going into the kitchen. There came a short rustling of cabinets and silverware before the man returned, a bottle in his hand. Taking a seat on the couch, he popped the cap open and downed a long swig. \"Ahh... that's better.\"\n\n\"You're getting drunk again?!\"\n\n\"Hey, the best way to stop a hangover...\" He thumped his chest, a gross belch escaping his lips. \"... is with an even bigger hangover.\" Grabbing the remote, he turned on the tiny television in his rank apartment.\n\n\"**In breaking news, a recent blizzard in the Eastern Coast has left a car buried on the 302nd Blvd. A young woman has recently been rescued from the trapped vehicle and is currently being rushed to immediate medical care. The victim has been reported to have bloodshot eyes, brown hair...**\" A cheerful voice called out from the speaker of the TV.\n\nThe eyes of the two men's bulge as the listened to the description of the woman. Though Teddie was horrified at the terrible event, Kevin was more worried about how familiar the driver had sounded. \n\n\"Uhh, I think that's the chick I hooked up with yesterday.\" Kevin turned around to see Teddie's eyes staring wide-eyed at him.\n\n\"Kevin...\" Teddie took a deep breath, cupping his hands around the girl's ears. \"You disgusting piece of shi-\"\n\nHaving finally stopped crying, the little girl stares wide-eyed at the two men shouting profanities at each other. A toothless smile on her face, she cried aloud. \"Papas!\" Giggling at the sight, she took in the view like some silly cartoon.\n\nThe two men stopped feuding at the sight of the happy girl, smiling at the two. Kevin pulled the bottle away from Teddie's neck, sighing deeply. \"Well, guess we're fathers now.\" He laughed, pulling his friend and the girl in for a hug. \"I've always wanted a kid...\"\n\n\"You're drunk again, aren't you?\" Teddie raised an eyebrow at the nodding Kevin. \"Goddamnit.\"\n\n\n\n", "Jack stumbled across the threshold of the bar and swayed his way to the bus stop a few yards down the street, landing heavily against the bench. He peered blearily at his watch--10:45 p.m. The last bus would be by at eleven. He shook a cigarette from the crumpled pack, lit it, and inhaled with pleasure. Ah, the humble cigarette. He'd quit a couple of times, for as long as three years. Then she'd left him and initiated divorce proceedings and enjoying a Red seemed like the least of his troubles.\n\n\"Mary, Mary, you're on my miiiiiiind.\" Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? Mary had a little lamb, it's fleece was white as snow. Proud Mary. Peter, Paul, and Mary. Why the fuck were there so many nursery rhymes and songs about Mary? And where was she, his pretty Mary, on this bitterly cold night? Still at her mother's house? Maybe crashing at her sister's for a change? He hoped she was warm. Warm and wrapped in fleece as soft as snow. Was Little Red Riding Hood's real name Mary? Fucking Big Bad Wolf. \n\n\"Mister. Hey, mister.\" \n\nSomeone was shaking his shoulder. Jack opened his eyes to see a kid, skinny and scruffy, at his side.\n\n\"The bus is coming, mister. You don't wanna sleep outside tonight.\"\n\n\"Thanks.\" He saw lights in the distance, heard the quiet thrum of the engine on its slow approach. Jack tossed down his cigarette butt and shrugged himself upright. The kid sat down companionably next to him.\n\n\"Kinda late to be out on your own, isn't it?\"\n\nThe kid twitched his shoulders. \"My parents are on a bar crawl. They'll pick me up when they're done.\" \n\nJack looked at the boy a little closer. Thin, dressed in shabby jeans with damp, dirty hems, a sweatshirt with bleach spots, and a lightweight windbreaker. It was in the low twenties and getting colder. He reached for his wallet and pulled out a crumpled ten dollar bill. \"It's too cold for you to be hanging around outside while you wait for your parents. Go get a burger or something, sit inside where it's warm. Sit next to a window so you can watch for them.\"\n\nThe boy took the ten and held it gingerly. \"No place is open. Well, the bars are open, but no restaurants. And the bars won't let me in.\"\n\n\"The fuck your parents doing letting you freeze out here while they tie one on?\" Jack felt a welcome glow of warmth take root in his gut--not booze, but anger. \"What's your name?\"\n\n\"Patrick.\"\n\nThe bus was gliding to a stop in front of the bench. Jack stood up. \"C'mon, Patrick. You're going with me.\" " ]

[ 2, 4 ]

[ "1422498215", "1422497836" ]

[ "I never intended it to be this way. The bible, book of lies. The humans sin and kill. I have created monsters. The stewards intended to look after my favourite children took only to slaughtering them. Rest in piece my dear dodo. \nI can go on no longer. Farewell.", "God's Blog - A Daily Diary\n\nJanuary 27, 2015 - I done with this. All the begging over stupid stuff that they have the power to do themselves, like passing an exam or getting a job. When I do get thanks, it's for things I never did nor care about, like having someone pull out of a parking space close to the mall entrance just as they pull up or giving them a victory in a sporting event. It's not like anything I do changes anything. Those who don't believe in me ignore the miracles around them, and those that do ignore the directions I give them. I'm tired of listening; I'm tired of the noise. I'm just tired. Good bye cruel heaven.\n\nJanuary 28th - \n\nJanuary 29th - \n\nJanuary 30th - Damn.", "I \n\nAM\n\nNOT.", "\"I have been alone for the entirity of my existence. There is nothing like me. There is also nothing unlike me either. I cannot feel, sense, see, or hear another presence. I have no idea how long I have have been like this. There is no sense of time. There is nothing. There is only me. The longer that I exist, the longer I can feel myself lose the grip on \"reality\". I mean, I'm not recording this message for anything or anyone. There is nothing to record it with. I am speaking to no one.\n\nI'm so very alone.\n\nCan you fathom the idea of being alone for an undetermineable amount of time, being able to reach your conciousness to the ends of infinite, and finding only the void???\n\nI don't remember how I came to be, or what was before me. I have always been.\n\nI will end myself. I can no longer wait. I have fallen too deeply into despair.\n\nGoodbye nothing.\"\n\n----\n\n\"And that son, was how the Big Bang happened.\"\n\n\"Dad, can I move back with mom?\"\n\n\"Shut up and get me a beer.\"", "To Whom It May Concern,\n\nMy dear childlings — it has come time for me to say goodbye. Not because I am bitter or tired, but because this has been the plan all along. I am of old age now, having overseen the passage of Moses and the death of Jesus, and can no longer bear to send my children only to be ridiculed by all of humanity. It was with one last hope that I sent my final messenger, Kanye West, to bestow upon humanity a sense of urgency and self-consciousness. However, humanity has yet again shown me that they are incapable of love and acceptance. To every prophet I have given signs and powers so that the people may believe in their divinity. To Moses, I have given the power of the cane, with which he can split seas and turn them into blood. To Jesus, I have given the ability to bring the dead to life. To Muhammad, I have given the gift of verse and poetry. To Kanye, I have given a woman with an ass the likes the world has never seen before. And yet, you worthless, incoherent pieces of shit still disbelieve and ridicule.\n\nI will issue one last Ayah before my death:\n\"Oh ye who believe! Fuck all you motherfuckers!\"\n\nI cannot bear this Life anymore. By the time you read this, I will be gone. Reincarnated as a squirrel (I hope. I designed the algorithm to be random). But you probably won't notice anyway.", "I am the Alpha of Creation, the beginning to all things. It was by my hand the universe was wrought into place, and by my will that life was concieved. I dreamed worlds into being, sang plants into place. I crafted mountains from dust and brought light from darkness.\n\nBut in my fervor to create, I stumbled.\nAnd that was when I created you.\nYou, who were like my own. \nYou, who were the brightest stars, bound to physical form.\nYou, who in my pride I crafted in my own image.\nAnd though I watched and wondered at the cleverness of my creations, inside, I grew afraid.\nBecause though I held you with love, cherished and lavished my pieces with a heart and a mind and a soul, I knew of corruption in your midst.\nAnd so you grew, tottering forward on stubby, short legs. You smiled and laughed, and so too did I. A proud father to match a proud child, and proud was I of You, whom loved so dearly.\n\nAnd then one day, you discovered stone.\nYou found the hardness of the earth, and the sharpness of the flint.\nYou struck cable and cord from the trees, from the plants I sang to place.\nYou tore and twisted and tramped the life away from wherever you roamed.\nBut I let you be. For I had watched this happen before, like so many others. You struggled and learned, and then you died.\nSuch is the way of things. Such is the word of I.\nBut then you violated my greatest gift to you, a world of dual natures. Night and Day were shapers, makers, to craft you from clay into beautiful forms. My rhythyms were exact, circadian and otherwise. But you found something I saved only for myself.\nYou found a light, a heat, a burning, consuming thing that ravaged the land unless I saw fit to quench the raging hunger with torrents of water.\nYou used this perversion to shape my works. You broke down land with axe and hammer, burned plant with fire, erected monuments of leaders and walls of stone. You loved so much the idea of building, that you destroyed what I wrought.\nAnd still I watched. \nNone had dared so much as to take my own art from me. I was curious, in hindsight, to see how well you might work.\nPerhaps I had competitors, a friendly rival of sorts.\nBut your creation was a mockery of mine.\nI made things whole, with song and hope and love,\nwhile you killed and contorted the world to fit your desires.\nFor thousands of years I watched.\nI watched wars, famine, plagues.\nAnd you had the audacity to blame *me*. I, who had crafted you from the very essence of myself. I, who had pulled thought and love from my heart. I, who had given you a world of beauty, and allowed you to turn it to ash. \nSo I sent a piece of myself to walk among you, share the true way of life. Love, compassion, crafting and creating.\n\n\n\nAnd you pierced his hands and stabbed his sides and placed a thorned crown atop his scalp.\n\nThus I turned away. Thus I left my beautiful creation, my pride, my heart and soul.\nThus I died, that day.\nFor two thousand years, I ignored you, content to muse over bigger things.\n\nToo long, I waited.\nFor I returned, and witnessed devastation.\nMountains in rubble, iron and steel blotting out the sky, while thick factories belched smoke and smog into my beautiful, clean air.\nThe plants were fading.\nMy frozen caps melting into the brine of a sea, dotted with your tankers and traders. Even the fashioned stone I had set to even tides and give balance had been tainted by trash. Your world was in ruin.\nI had failed.\nI have failed.\n\nBut I am the Alpha. I am the beginning of all.\nAnd so begins the ending of my greatest, and most terrible creation.\nAn idea so pure, so true, that I had literally given my heart as the stones beneath their feet.\nThe world you shaped with rock and steel was the very thing used to shape your ancestors.\nAnd thus, Alpha becomes Omega.\nBeginning becomes End.\nLight will fade, and Time will cease.\nI do this not in anger, my children, my loving, beautiful creations.\nI do this to protect you from the monsters you've become.", "Now the serpent has corrupted my creations,\n\nand doomed them to eternal war between their nations,\n\nNow that I have punished them with locust swarms,\n\nand bloody water, boils, and ceaseless storms,\n\nNow that I have begun again on Noah's ark,\n\nallowed the quest of man to re-embark,\n\nI realise that this must be the end.\n\n\n\n\n\nNow that I have sent my only son,\n\nso that through him my own work may be done,\n\nNow that I have seen him put to death,\n\nand seen him take his final breath,\n\nNow that I have seen him rise again,\n\nand prove that my great quest is all in vain,\n\nThere is no longer room for man in my Kingdom.\n\n\n\n\n\nNow that mankind's faith begins to wither,\n\nand lost the trust of me, the great forgiver,\n\nNow that man has proven he is lost,\n\nand lines that shan't be crossed are crossed,\n\nI allow you now your own truth,\n\nthat you may say with zest,\n\nGod is tired. God isn't real.\n\nDeus Mortis Est.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 16 ]

[ "1422555576", "1422559925", "1422561454", "1422557215", "1422558573", "1422557178", "1422553754" ]

[ "Yeh know me name, boy. Yeh heared me tales. Yeh've seen the paintings on the wall's of castles. But have yeh even stopped yerself and asked the real question? The question every man has in his heart, and refuses to ask even in his darkest hour? The one the slowly nags at the back of the mind, the itch you aren't aware of? Who are you, boy? Are you the same boy from the stories yer friends tell? Or another? Another man entirely? \n\nBut yeh didn't ask who I was. Yeh knew, and yeh asked wisely. Why do they call me Hugo 'The Undying'? Well, there's no single answer to that, rather it's the sum of many things, much like in any life. But yeh buy the next round, keep yer mouth shut, and never speak to a soul about what yeh hear tonight... Well, I guess we can talk. \n\n \n\nI won't bother yeh with beginnings, boy. Yeh've no doubt heard about the Breach of Kliegs and the Battle of Shariok. Yer stories may skip some of my failures, but those two there. That's where the story starts, and ain't no sense in repeating it here. Instead, I'll tell yeah when I truly got the name. The day I died. \n\n \n\nYeh remember the war in Forgehearth, don't ya, boy? The king would've pulled the stars down to have taken the city a week earlier. Unfortunately for the king, and myself, the stars were too far to grasp. His men failed, and in the end they lost him the war. But that comes later. It had been about a week, and they were days late. Most of us in the ranks assumed they'd been paid and made their way to whatever home those types have. All the nobles were so proud of what they'd thought they did. Couldn't walk five minutes through camp without some ass with a parent-paid commission saying 'This will be a victory for the bards to sing of!'. And it was. If Forgehearth had bards. The kings coin stayed in his purse and his hired hands were severed, if a little late. They did their job, as we found out in the day's to follow, but they let one through. And one was all it took.\n\n \n\nA demon of a thing it was, and luck be praised if I never see it again. The Forgehearth army rolled from the gates, and we stood waiting. We knew their numbers, and worried little. A soldier of Forgehearth was little more than a blacksmith. But it wasn't the swords they tempered that day. They brought the world to heel. Set it to the anvil and struck a vicious blow that rang through the ages. Yeh may think him a legend, some story penned by a bored minstrel. But I tell yeh now boy, that thing was real. The years have left few alive to tell of it, but I was there, and I saw the demon with me own eyes. \n\n \n\nWe didn't know at the time, to busy celebrating our victory of the day before, but tour end was soon coming. A suit of armor with no man inside. A creature of sole purpose. A demon built only for war. Our forward scouts brought the first reports. Whispers around camp were that anvils rang out, day and night. One said he seen the man working the forge in full armor. We figured it was just some eccentric smithy. Until he came to the field. \n\nWith a body of mithral plate and no weapon other than his metal arms tospeak of, he tore through our ranks tirelessly. Spears snapped against it's chest, swords bent against it's arms, and many men died at it's hands. All who challenged it are still in that field. All but one. \n\n \n\nThe fighting was close, as it always is. You hear stories of great warriors strolling through the field, but they never tell the truth of it. Any battle outside a bard's song is packed tight, steel against flesh, friend pressed close to foe. A great clashing of armies is never an orderly affair, save the few duels that arise in it's midst. The story of my naming is one of those few. \n\n \n, \nI saw it lumbering through the ranks, a demon of thing, entirely unaware of the arm still impaled on the spike of it's shoulder. To this day I can still see the shape of the ring on it's finger and hear the sound of it clacking against the mithral body of the beast. Men charged forward to slay it, but were torn down with brutal disregard. Having just come of the high of glory for Kliegs, and too full of myself to know better, I roared a challenge. It walked toward me, unconcerned with the tumult around it and stood waiting. Staring. It had no eyes, but still it stared straight through me to my core. I would like to say I held my own, but this is noe minstrel's tale. It wrenched my spear from my hand and drove it through my chest. The last thing I remember was it's back, as it killed three more men before I lost consciousness. \n\n \n\nBut I lived. And any who could refute the tale of my valiant battle against the living beast of armor lay dead. The bards sing and the dead keep their silence. I was told that I would bear the scar for the rest of days, and they were not wrong. I should have died, and would have if I had kept proper care for my weapons. The shaft broke before being pulled from my body and stemmed the flow of blood long enough for me to live. But that's not how the story tells it. How I healed my own wounds with god-given magics, or how my magic spear became a part of me. \n\n \n\nBut that's the truth of it. Fifty years ago, I didn't die when I should've. That's what a name is worth, and it's brought me no good since. Now yeh got what yeh want. Leave me to my drink. ", "*EDIT: Gold?! Thank you so much! I can't really think of stuff to say other than enjoy the read! :D*\n\n---\n\nThey call us necromancers. \n\nIt's true, it's what we are, but that doesn't make it less of an insult. We are one of the rare breeds of mages, ones who don't take pride in their work. We feel it for what it truly is, a curse. All magick is a curse. They call me Hugo, little human. In fact, I call myself Hugo. There was a name there once but its been eaten away, you too will call me Hugo. \n\nLet Hugo tell you about necromancy.\n\n---\n\nLong ago, magick was still at its proverbial peak. Mages and wizards and whole schools of new, mysterious, arcane arts were being made, discovered, believed in. The air was rife with magick, almost tangible little strands of thought flew through the air. Everyone believed, everyone felt the magic envelop their lives.\n\nBut there was a question, it lay unspoken on everyone's lips. It began as most questions like this do, with a what if? Because these questions don't come out as questions, they are little inklings that scratch into the heads of people and bury themselves deep in their mind. They fester in there, shaping their every action, changing the course of a once beautiful life. The thoughts only grow in certain people, only a handful are chosen to be broken. But only a handful are needed. There, nestled in between daily routine, the thought blossoms into something different, something sinister, something beginning with a what if? It pokes and prods its way out into the light of release, it escapes from the poor fellow's mouth and brings about a revolution.\n\nWhat if we can bring back the dead?\n\nThis time it was a girl. A sallow maiden from the steppes of some wartorn country, evicted and evacuated from its darkened shores. She came to the Great Library of Magick, seeking knowledge, seeking release. But most of all, seeking vengeance. Though she did not know it at the time. The elders took her under their wing, sat her down beside the scores of other hopefuls, they taught her magick and the fear of the arckane. They taught her to think in the rigid lines of a magic circle, to think inside the chalk of a pentacle.\n\nBut this girl, she was bright, she was something different. She was no mere child thrown in from the city, she had pains and she had goals. And the question had found itself dancing on her red lips.\n\nImpossible! It could not be done, cried the great priests of holy magicks. They had tried, begged to their so-called deity for to return to them their loved ones. How could one so young even dare to defile such a sacred request, when they themselves had been denied release? But that was the problem, they still believed in the world inside the magic circle. That all that could be discovered lay in those safe walls of study.\n\nThere was one boy, a pale stalk of a child who'd found comfort in the arms of the great deity. He wrapped his robes around his arms whenever he saw the girl come by, tightening it around his heart so it would not escape. His father, the head of the priesthood felt the pangs of forbidden love emanate from his son, and scolded and berated him. No, impossible. It will not be done.\n\nThe boy would relent, his eyes glazed over. He believed in her in his stupor, his glassy gaze, she could find something the deity could not. She could find life in her deep, hazel eyes, her smooth curves of blackened hair. Removed from the priesthood, he found himself wandering the courtyards alone. No one to clean his robes, no one to feed him again. His father, from the top of a tower nestled comfortably in the Library, often saw him weeping by a grave.\n\nOne day, by the whimsy of fate, the girl happened upon the sobbing boy. She asked him what he cried for. The boy lifted his reddened face, anxiety pumping through his veins. He talked of his mother and how she had died and how he missed her. She talked of her family and how they were killed and how she wanted revenge. They sat there and talked about things like these for hours. Little, childish dreams and emotions between sobs and sputters. The wanton ambitions of a child still not aware of the rules that bind the magickal world. It did not once occur to the children that maybe there was a reason to the chalk circle being unbroken, even in an age of discovery.\n\nWhat if we can bring back the dead?\n\nShe asked him in the midst of their wailing. Her smile shook away the tears. And so they thought, they sat there with warm backs against each other and thought. They thought long into the night. The boy talked about altars and blessings between snores, the girl stared fixedly at the moon. Youth had blinded her from bending the rules of discovery.\n\nWhat if we can bring back the dead?\n\nThey sat at the alter in the sacred hall of the priesthood, surrounded by musty old tomes that were larger than they were. Life magick. The thought spun in her head, sending sinewy magickal trails whirling through the air. The boy marveled at her prowess, her given gift to command the arckane. He leafed through a book, using it as a wall to hide his gaze when she looked back at him.\n\nThe father of the priesthood looked out of his study window once more, his ousted son had spent the nights on the cold stone bench by his mother's grave. But there was nothing there but a pile of earth pulled from the ground.\n\nWhat if we can bring back the dead?\n\nThe girl pulled a pin out of her hair, she flicked out a perfect little thumb and pricked out a drop of blood. The boy watched as she smeared the drop onto his mother's skull. A drip of life to bring to life, the ancient poem had said. He wavered as he saw his mother's body desecrated on the stone table. He could feel the whispers of the magic curls in the air twist and lash out violently. He called out to the girl, but she was already chanting.\n\nWhat if we can bring back the dead?\n\nThe body shuffled, cackled and shambled up. Not like a person would, but like a mindless soul would think a human should. Bones twisted and ripped apart drying skin, tore the robes of interrment. The skull was flecked with spots of regenerating flesh. Half of his mother's face stared into him. An eyeball dripped to the floor and cracked into smoke. The face sucked back into the hollows of the skull, pulled into whatever mouth of hell they had clawed from. More flesh, different flesh seeped into the contours of the skull and brought spatters of twisted life where it should not be.\n\nThe boy fell into a stack of tomes, scrambling as the figure of his mother lumbered and struggled towards him like a spider strung by its own string. He cried at the girl to make it stop, to make it *stop.* The body of his deceased mother lay alive above him, staring hungrily into his eyes. Dried saliva pooled onto his tattered robes. He sat still in shock, the years of memories melted away into sheer terror. They twisted and cackled like her skull spun on her neck. Flecks of loose hair fell onto his form and curled into wisps of smoke. The contorting figure cackled and burst into smoke, its remains mere wispy ash. Only the skull still flecked with warm flesh remained, it fell into the boy's hands and stared at him. He felt the dead eyes move about his face, judging him, accusing him.\n\n\"What if we can bring back the dead?\" he heard the girl say, in a voice that wasn't much like hers. She rose above him, he could see the drops of tears fall from her form. The ragged cloak she'd always worn billowed and tumbled with black. She was not herself anymore, cursed with the hatred of a damned soul unearthed from forbidden magick. We were not meant to escape the grasp of death, lest it pull itself into our life. Before him was not the one who wanted to bring life, not anymore.\n\nAlas, they were too late to stop the rise. She had lost her one love and he had lost his, two little bookish, young fools trapped by the curse of belief. Trapped by the question of what if? She escaped, unearthing the land wherever her eternal tears fell. The dead rose from their prisons in her wake, a sea of life brought back followed her footfalls. Magick could not stop the tragedy. A girl who wanted to bring life cursed with undeath. She roams still, raising the dead. Some worship her fleeting form, the ones who have loved and lost just like the boy and the girl. The ones who wanted to live forever, who wanted others to live forever, corrupted by the tendrils of oozing magick. And the one who wanted her back, who chased her to the end of days. Slowly the world came to accept, as the din of bone and steel had worn away ideals, that there were necromancers. They were a curse upon the world and a curse upon themselves. But truly they were the magick reminding her wherever she went, that this was her doing. That she should not question, she should not believe in other things. There is no what if?\n\nShe was the Queen of the Damned.\n\nAnd I her Hugo." ]

[ 1, 2 ]

[ "1422769327", "1422772717" ]

[ "The stone door came down with a crash. Amidst the dust and rubble a man stood in a wide stance, breathing heavily and with a huge grinning smile on his face. He points a bloodied sword at the priests inside the temple’s secret chamber.\n\n“Death comes for you! Run now and leave me to my prize, for I shall cut and maim each one of you who stands in my path.” He let out a vicious, primal laugh. It was a laugh devoid of all the intricacies of culture and civilization. It was honest and wicked.\n\nThe four priests in the room followed his orders and attempted to leave the room, running towards the man, towards the exit. But as they approached the man simply laughed and cut them down without mercy. “Fat pigs.”\n\nHe stepped forward towards the altar. “Finally, Shadowbringer is mine. The legendary instrument of doom and destruction is within my grasp! I have overcome everything you light bearing zealots could throw at me: your puny acolytes, your delusional priests, your fanatic paladins! Your churches and your temples and your crypts! Every trap and cryptic puzzle your feeble light-adoring mind could conjure, I have conquered! And now… Now! Despair is mine to bring upon the world.”\n\nSuddenly the armored statue next to the altar began to glow, and move, until a being made of pure light stood between the man and Shadowbringer. “First, you must best me.” It unsheathed its sword, the blade reflecting the light of its own body. “I am the guardian of this chamber’s artifact. I have stood watch for centuries and faced many like you. I stand, while they fell. Come, villain. I will make you face your sins.”\n\nThe man looked puzzled for a second, but a look of cocky confidence soon came back to his face. “I do not fear you, beast of light. You stand before prophecy. I am the man of which your holy books speak. I am the one who will change the fate of this land. I am the one about whom your gods have warned you about. And I am the one who will end your streak.”\n\nThe two traded blows for what seemed like an eternity, neither showing signs of fatigue. The man caught the light-being in what should have been mortal wounds many times, but it was apparently immune. “Enough!” Cried the man.\n\n“Do you concede?”\n\n“Not quite.” The man lured the light-being towards a near-collapsing pillar and in a swift single movement dodge a slow, overhead strike and pushed the pillar towards the guardian. It crumbled in a dozen large pieces and pinned the being to the ground underneath all the weight.\n\n“I am defeated. You are indeed the man of prophecy.”\n\nWith an evil grin the man stepped towards the altar and grabbed the hilt of the sword stuck in the stone floor. “HAH!” He pulled it out in one swift motion and held it upwards in triumph. To his surprise, he held in his hand a shining golden sword of light.\n\n“What madness is this!? Light? Guardian! Explain this atrocity!”\n\n“What? What is it?”\n\n“What is it..? Oi! Are you playing coy with me?” He waved the shining sword around as he rambled. “Does this here sword look like a Shadowbringer to you? Does it now?” He waved the sword in front of the guardian’s light-face. “Look at it. Look at it!”\n\n“I don’t understand your confusion. Light creates shadow. The sword is made of light. I don’t understand how this could be ambiguous in any way.” The guardian didn’t move.\n\n“Ack! I can’t take this.” He was moving back and forth now. “How am I supposed to conquer the world with a sword of light!?”\n\n“Conquer the world?”\n\n“It’s not even scary! It’s made of fucking light, it is!”\n\n“I thought you were the hero prophesized in legend.”\n\n“WHAT? Why would you think that!?”\n\n“Well you come in here into my house with all that talk about how you were going to change the world, and how our books told us about you, and I just thought—“\n\n“I KILLED YOUR PRIESTS.”\n\n“Well I did not like you from the start, if you really must know. But who am I to question the god’s choices? I’m just a lowly light-being. And I’m nearing retirement as well.”\n\n“This is bollocks, that’s what it is! I DEMAND COMPENSATION!” The man threw the sword into the ground and all manners of shadows flickered on the walls as the blade tumbled around.\n\n------------------------\n\nMeanwhile, in a distant land…\n\n“It is with a great honor that I welcome you, in your eighteenth birthday, to this holy chamber. The prophecies of our people speak of a boy, who upon entering adulthood, shall be able to pluck this holy blade from the stone upon which it rests and bring peace and glory to the land.” The boy walked towards the sword stuck on the ground, surrounded by everyone in the village. “Are you the hero of legend? Are you the one who will take Light’s Sheath unto your hands?”\n\nAnd the boy confidently grabbed the sword’s hilt.\n", "The valiant hero Astor was about to embark on the greatest and most difficult adventure of his life. Returning a product to Wal Mart. \nThe line was long, and Astor knew the wait would seem longer. He held Glulax's Blade in his hand waiting for the line to move.\nThe sassy wench at the customer service counter was currently helping another patron to return his product. However, at the other customer service counter, a different wench sat twittling on her phone. Astor knew this was not proper customer service and he knew he would have to seek justice once he had returned this fault blade of darkness. \nSuddenly, Glulax entered the Wal Mart holding Astor's Blade. He approached the customer service counter, but instead of waiting like an honorable and valiant hero, he cut the line! Immediately the patrons of the Wal Mart began to question him. But Glulax had no time for such games, he incinerated the first person in line and took their spot. \n\"Hi, um... I think this is the wrong blade. I ordered it off the site, but this isn't the right one.\"\n\"Honey, since when has Wal Mart been selling medieval weaponry? I tell ya, this world's becoming one crazy place.\"\nAstor noticed Glulax and immediately jumped into action.\n\"Glulax I will not tolerate your oppression of these people any longer! Prepare to face justice!\"\nAstor drew his spare sword and charged at Glulax. Glulax parried the blow and grabbed his sword while Astor grabbed his. They took each other's weapons and prepared to do battle.\nGlulax cast a spell of force which hurtled Astor through the wall and into the eyeglass care center.\n\"Wow I think these eyeglasses are really the ones, they help me see everything clearer, and holy sh-\"\nThe patron was not able to finish as Astor was hurled at him. Astor's body crushed the patron up against the wall. Standing up, Astor charged Glulax and with one swing knocked him into the cashiers, taking out several cash registers. Money flew everywhere and patrons crawled on the floor picking it up.\nAstor charged Glulax once again but Glulax knew better this time. He protected himself with a force field which Astor bounced off of and was thrown into the produce section, straight into a box full of watermelons.\nAstor emerged with a watermelon over his head. An employee came up to him and said, \"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you and your friend to leave the premises. Also, you need to pay for those watermelons.\"\n\"Here take this,\" Astor handed him ten pieces of silver coin.\n\"Yeah, um... this isn't valid currency.\"\n\"Then take it to a bank or something and cash it in, I don't know. Right now, there is a battle to be won.\"\nAstor infused a watermelon with the power of light and chucked it at Glulax. Glulax was blasted back by the power and hurtled through several different store shelves eventually landing in the office supply section. \nAstor jumped into the air and fell to the ground towards Glulax. Glulax held up his sword and blasted a dark beam out of it sending Astor flying into the technology section. Astor landed next to a flat screen TV. Glulax approached him and prepared to fire another beam of darkness.\nQuick as a flash, Astor used the flat screen TV to reflect the beam back at Glulax. Glulax was struck by the beam and tumbled into a bike rack. Bikes fell from the rack, crushing Glulax under their weight. But Glulax would not be so easily defeated. He summoned a Wight from the Nether Realm. But to no avail. The Wight was shocked by the incredibly low prices that he ran off in search of great deals. Glulax cursed under his breath.\nAstor jumped onto a light fixture on the ceiling.\n\"It's time to give up Glulax! Your reign of terror ends here.\"\nGlulax, weakened by the bikes that had toppled on him, fell to one knee. Astor swiftly jumped to the ground and with one swoop, severed Glulax's wretched head from his body. The battle was won. The court case however, would not be won as easily.\n\n\"Valiant Hero Astor, how do you plead to the destruction of an entire Wal Mart and the manslaughter of twelve innocent people?\"\n\"I plead guilty, but it was necessary for the destruction of the evil Glulax!\"" ]

[ 1, 1 ]

[ "1422756824", "1422759663" ]

[ "Across the way in the vast garden she spies a young man pilfering apples from the towering fertile trees. Small in stature and unfair of face with angry red blemishes he falls to his knees as she approaches.\n\nHe pleads she spare him his life for he is but a poor farmer enticed by the promise of the sweetest apples in the whole county. He marvels at his luck of finding the the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes upon. Flattered she permitted him to remain in her company for the evening meal. \n\nThroughout the meal he grew uglier. He gorged himself on fine foods and thought to himself that he must bed this wench who is the most remarkable beauty in all of the town. As he enticed her with his wit and his charm to allow him to be her nightly company his teeth swayed progressively out of line. \n\nShe fell in love and grew more beautiful each day. After her morning bath she spent every waking hour with her beau. His skin bubbled and erupted with angry red welts as he spent each waking day in her company conspiring on how he could get the wealthy woman to marry him and leave him to never work a day in his life. Only weeks passed before they were promptly wedded. \n\n\nThe man grew uglier each day as he harassed the servants, kicked the dog and repeatedly plowed his wife in hopes of getting her with child so she would not insist on spending her every waking hour with him following her morning bath. Impossibly she grew more and more beautiful as she showered her new husband with love and the promise of a child. \n\nOne morning a rage overtook him. This beautiful woman thinks she owns me he raged as he waited downstairs for hours as she wasted away her morning in the bath. He felt she thought of him as nothing, the stupid whore. He resolved to give her a piece of his mind and as his malicious thoughts grew tufts of hair fell from his head. He marched up the stairs and stormed into the bath. \n\nAnd there was Elizabeth bathing in a tub filled with dark congealed blood. He looked upon her face and there were wrinkles were there were none before, into her eyes and there was malice where he had seen none before and he knew her heart was not pure. Elizabeth sneered at him as her guard came up behind him and put a blade to his throat. \n\n\"It's not simply the deed that brings the beauty you know. It's on the inside. And I bring the good out in people.\" ", "Aesthetically speaking, she was horrendous. Her skin sagged, her breasts looked like warm butter sliding from a hot cake. She was bowlegged, and her toes resembled poorly constructed tombstones, pointing in every direction. Her mouth smelled of ancient death.\n\nShe had forgotten her RotinPeace dentures at the house. Shit. Shit shit shit. How could she be so stupid? On the day of the interview for her promotion no less! Today she would be stylistically pleasant (sort of), she was essentially underdressed for such a formal occasion. Her black gums, although perfectly void of any hint of pink, looked far better when accessorized via grey and yellow falsies. \n\nSpeeding down the highway, surrounding her, what would appear to most the entire population of extras from every shitty zombie film ever made. In reality, a father on his way to dropping his kids off at school, newlyweds arguing over which karat of coal was financially possible, a super old Asian woman.\n\nThey were all so wonderfully abhorrent.\n\nShe personally admired the unibrow of the father. If only she could ever be so lucky as to land a stud like that. His lack of muscular tone and his near translucent pale skin made her liver spotted shoulders cringe,\n\nBut she was one of those women who feigned insecurity for attention. She was majestic, fantastic. Men fawned over her. \n\nShe was fucking grotesque, and she fucking knew it.\n\nHer walk, resembling that of an extraordinarily exhausted invalid, was runway worthy. \n\nHer hair, in the Dr. Phil style (hot this season) was spot on.\n\nShe was everything every man dreamed of.\n\nBut still, she was a strange case, for regardless of her false insecurity and the line of men actively pursuing her, the intrinsic inability to be attracted to a good looking male (i.e. unibrowed father) haunted her.\n\nShe could physically admire from afar, but, she could only really love someone truly good, and thus truly ugly.", "July 4\n\n    Fieser is a good man. He's good looking, too. In his early forties, he looks like what you'd expect when you think of a world-class chemist—unassuming with an oval face and gentle chin, save for a strong nose that belies a German forbearance. He is balding, but don't let that fool you; he lettered in football and track on top of philosophy at college, and maintains a robust exercise regimen that includes swimming the whole length of the university pool underwater. He would have won a Nobel, too, for elucidating Vitamin K or his seminal contributions to organic synthesis if it weren't for the war. But since when has that ever stopped a scientist, no less Louis Fieser?\n\n    The collaboration of brilliant and beautiful minds like his in academia, industry, and government have succeeded in building the most effective scientific coalition of our times. Artificial rubber, invented on this very campus, can now be synthesized at scale independent of plantations captured by enemies from afar. It is a lowly and humble material, surely, but the applications are endless—from tires to medical supplies to hoses to gaskets, among other things.\n\n    This day, I stand with Fieser to witness the first of many tests that will surely change the tide of the war. Today's product months in the making is a modest powder, fine and lacking the tack or stretch associated with rubber that becomes a tenacious gel once mixed with gasoline.\n\n    We're on the football field outside the Harvard Business School, and it is now on fire. Uncontrollably so. We expect our boys over in Europe fighting the good fight to be fielding our incendiary vehicle by next year.\n\nWhat a birthday gift.", "I saw a man yesterday with no face. \nHe was bent and twisted, his whole life spent. \nBut he spoke to me, leaving not one trace \nOf hate that other folk just might have lent. \nHe said \"boy, listen up, don't live like me...\" \n\"You gotta hate, love, feel, listen, and *live*.\" \nAnd he turned to leave, but I said \"sir, please... \nI'm a bit confused, my pardon forgive, \nBut what do you mean, this thing you decree?\" \nHe laughed, a grotesque sound that rose and fell, \nAnd he said \"one day you will know the fee, \nBut until then, my son, I bid you well.\" \nAnd so he left, and my mind torn about. \nA life of apathy?--yes, of that no doubt. \n", "The Doctor leaned back in her chair, pushing the chart towards him. \"I can't take your case, but I know someone who can. He specializes in Privilege - which isn't my area.\"\n\n\"I've got Privilege?\"\n\nShe shrugged. \"It's not so bad, perfectly treatable so long as you enter the regimen with an open mind. Hard cases can take upwards of five months. But hey,\" she smiled at him, \"At least you don't have Envy.\"\n\nAt least he didn't have... well, shit. It was probably the promotion that did him in. New titles, new car, new flat. All the respect that had suddenly flooded his way had gone to his head. He felt he'd deserved things. Stopped listening as much, until his wife left him. Because of his 'appearance', but he knew what she really meant. Ugly on the outside, ugly on the inside. \n\n\"Is it covered by my insurance?\"\n\n\"All Tier One Attractiveness Disorders are covered with a small deductible.\"\n\nHe studied the Doctor. She was pretty in a mousy way. Attractive in the way a lot of people were. Clear skin and symmetrical structure, no deformities, a healthy weight... just like he'd been a year ago. Nothing striking - very few people were. How could they be when attractiveness was worshiped as the ideal? It went to their heads.\n\nJust like how his position had gone to his.\n\nHe couldn't stand the sight of himself in a mirror anymore. Uneven eyes and skin that looked like it'd seen too much sun. Extra weight around his thighs, lending him an unbalanced appearance that left people with pitying expressions.\n\n\"When do I start?\"", "Another fucking day grinding grist for the mill. \n\nWithout thought I spout out the practiced line, \"Hello and welcome to Frank's Taco Joint, can I take your order?\"\n\nThe response is a smooth baritone, \"Yes, a dozen of your taqueria tacos, pork.... my sweet,\" his voice causes my headset to rumble softly against my head and I feel a strand of hair fall out of its neatly arranged position... fucking bobby pins. \n\n\"Certainly sir, anything to drink for you today?\" I reply, my voice quivers, outside of my own command. \n\n\"No, and thank you,\" comes the easy reply, \"though my eyes can't wait to get a drink of you...\" \n\n\"Thank you sir, please pull forward to the window, your order is being prepared.\" I reply, flushed.\n\nI stage the bag by tossing in a few napkins, then I add in a handful of containers of sauce, making sure to add a few extra. Our sauce is the only real reason people frequent the out-of-the-way joint and I like to reward customers who, for whatever reason, break the monotony of this job. \n\nThe bright burn of hi-beams signals another customer rounding the corner, and I glance backwards briefly at Martha, who has such a sweet soul and reminds me of an angel whose wings have been clipped, and darling Michelle, the girl who carries a cloud over herself but is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen... my two little shining stars [...] they've already finished their task. \n\nOut of the corner of my eye I register a car stopping next to my window and I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the man who carries this voice... \n\nI neatly tuck all twelve tacos into the bag, tying it neatly with a practiced twist of my fingers and open the window. \n\n\"That will be...\" I begin, announcing the price before raising my eyes... and then freeze. \n\nThis barbarous man has boils etched across his entire body, and pus freely flows from many of his cysts... I choke back my response and think to myself \"not again...\" before turning to retch into the nearby sink... \"Employees must wash their hands after...\" my mind helplessly implores into my consciousness... \n\nAfter what feels like an hour, but what could have only taken a few seconds I pause and steel myself, I wash my hands and turn one again to the monster outside my window. \n\n\"Sir,\" I say coldly, \"That will be 6.88.\" \n\nHe smiles and grins, licking his lips as he unfolds his wallet, taking extra care to show the dozens of $100 bills he has tucked away inside. \n\nA 20 is threaded forward, tucked so deep into his hand that it takes all of my dexterity to not accidentally touch the fearsome hand. \n\nI make change and quickly return it, and his bag to an outstretched arm... \n\nAs I do so his other hand snakes its way across the divide and alights upon my wrist. Words that barely seem spoken enter my mind as he asks, \"What time do you get off?\"\n\nI wrench my hand back and, doing so, lose his entire order. It drops to the ground and he barks out a curse at me and my ineptitude... \n\nCrying out as the hot, wet stench of pus dripping down my arm I indicate to my coworkers that I have to leave...\n\nThis is the fourth time this week... \n\nI got fired the next day... \n\nI'm not cut out for this kind of work.\n\n*note to OP* -- it's so hard NOT TO end this WP with a look in the mirror (it's such an easy ending).", "He was the most beautiful man the world had ever seen. There are claims he is a prophet or even Jesus come again but nobody could deny that he is the most seemingly perfect being walking the Earth.\n\nAnd Christian too! I mean I had always known that the Bible was true but having him in our corner really helped sell it. After all, on top of being absolutely gorgeous he was also the kindest and most gentle person you could possibly be around. Nobody could deny there was not a mean or selfish bone in his body and his looks proved it. \n\nHe never really talked about his past but the general consensus is that he came from a very poor background. It was only through hard work and determination that he made it to Harvard. He quickly gained a following and became the youngest Senator to have ever been elected in the State of Texas. His charisma, sincerity and strong Christian values brought the old conservatives and the young progressives together. \n\nIt was his time as a senator that really brought him national attention. He was a beacon to the minority and oppressed while a voice of reason in a landscape full of hard headed and unwavering politicians. Both social and economic progress spread across the state and it wasn't long before he made his bid at the presidency at the age of 37.\n\nWhile the opposition was quick to point out his youth and inexperience there was no denying the success he had had. He also just had such a down to Earth style of interacting with people that made it so easy to trust him. His speeches often quoted Jesus, Gandhi and Confucius and as such, he was often favorably compared to them. He ended up winning the election by a landslide and the day of his inauguration there wasn't a dry eye watching. \n\nAnd you know what? His first two terms were amazing! Under his leadership America quickly saw a resurgence of prosperity and admiration by most of the other countries in the world. Total household income doubled by the end of his second term and unemployment was almost non existent. His sincerity and commitment to improving foreign relations was greatly welcomed by all as he helped ease global tension. All nuclear warheads were agreed to be disarmed by all countries and there was a sense of relief world wide as the threat of nuclear annihilation was eliminated. \n\nEven when the 22nd amendment was repealed and he was elected to a third term I was wasn't really bothered. Under his presidency we had experienced unprecedented success as a nation. Christianity was thriving as we experienced another Age of Enlightenment and while I felt a 2 term limit was a smart idea, if it meant we would lose our glorious leader I didn't want it. \n\nIt wasn't until his 10th year as president that I started to have my doubts. Many African countries had started to crumble as war lords spread out and increased in power. News reports showed shots of hideous men smiling and cheering as they shot resistance fighters. The bastards were claiming they were doing \"God's work\".\n\nAt a world summit he called on the UN to finally put a stop to it all. \"If we are to deem ourselves as good people, we must help those to weak to fight for themselves,\" he said. But the world leaders fought and bickered among themselves. \"The cost was too much\", \"the death toll would be to great\", \"we just don't have the resources.\" And yet while there words seemed to make sense, their appearance betrayed the. Over the course of the week many started going grey, seemingly aging, and a few even lost some teeth. Only our leader remained unaffected. \n\nThat was the beginning of the First Holy Intervention. Our Commander in Chief ordered military intervention in a foreign land for the first time since he was sworn in. Bringing the full might of the American forces, most of the war lords were quickly eliminated. Those that survived had no resources to ever be a problem again. Africans chanted our leaders name as all celebrated from every city to every village. \n\nAnd it could have all ended there and everyone would have been happy. But as I watched his \"Victory Speech\" my stomach began to churn. \"Africa has been a victim of our indecisiveness and unwillingness to help for far too long! The world watched as our brothers and sisters here suffered by Evil's hand! Instead of being a light in the darkness, the \"leaders\" of every country capable of helping, turned and hid. Well I won't let that happen again. Evil will not win again! That is why we will take our African brothers under our protection! I declare that from this day on, Africa will be a United States territory!\"\n\nAs the citizens and leaders of the world sat shocked by the declaration, US Forces quickly moved in and spread out all over Africa. Global opinion seemed split as some praised the Presidents refusal to watch innocents suffer while others saw it as a power move. Yet over time it was deemed a worthy cause. The world summit proved the sincerity of his claim as he stood, beautiful as always, in front of the decaying leaders around him. \n\n", "Yeah, it was sprouting. Rising pink like freshly bruised skin. He pushed his tongue on the inside of his lip, really spreading the skin of his chin out. No denying it. He could feel the swelling and knew it was coming.\n\"Of fuck, you asshole!\" Charles called out of the bathroom. \"I gotta fuckin zit popping up.\"\nFrom the kitchen James replied, \"It's probably your eyes playing tricks on you. Maybe you pinched your skin.\"\n\"No, Dick,\" Charles yelled back, while scratching at his skin with a fingernail. \"IT'S A ZIT.\"\n\"Aren't you red/green colorblind?\"\nCharles put his head down. Stared into the sink. He knew this was coming. For every action, there is an equal but opposite.... He looked at some dried splotches of toothpaste marring the white of the porcelain.\n\"I am so fucked,\" he said now, quieter. Defeated.\nJames appeared in the doorway, bright like a seraphim. Immaculate. \"Oh now look at you,\" he said softly. \"Keeping up like that certainly isn't going to help anything.\"\n\"I don't get it,\" Charles said. \"I listened to YOU. You told me to kiss Heather. To Carpe la fucking Femme!\"\n\"Maybe it wasn't the right move,\" James shook his head sadly.\n\"Are you kidding me? You sleep with anything that walks and you look like a freshly blooming cherry blossom. I kiss someone I really like and my pores turn on me like oncoming traffic in Russian dashboard camera clips.\"\n\"You don't think it's fair?\" James asked. His voice was soft conveying the tone he felt the question was rhetorical. His voice was always soft. He raised a chiseled bronze arm to brush some of the blond tresses that had slipped over his brow.\n\"How on EARTH is it fair?\" Charles asked. \"You figured out a way to hide it, right? You have crazy anal rashing? Your big toe's on the outside of your feet? A third nipple? A tiny nub penis?\"\n\"Charles, my penis is great,\" James chuckled. \"The problem is you, buddy. You fell in love with Skyler. You singled her out, out of the entire human race. You raised her on the pedestal. And that's fine,\" James said. \"I'm not condemning monogamous love. But you know that Heather was a betrayal--\"\n\"But why do you get off sleeping with anyone?\"\n\"I never betray feelings. I never hurt anyone. I love all people equally. There's no promises or suggestions otherwise. We do with each other, because we enjoy sharing the experience. Enjoy each other's company.\"\n\"Gimme a freakin break,\" Charles said.\n\"I'm sorry, I thought you might have been to that place.\"\n\"I'm going to look like I slapped a three-year-old.\"\n\"I don't think anyone will notice,\" James said. They both started laughing. \n", "It started innocently enough, just a few messageboard comments here and there. To intellectuals and academics, just another meaningless point-of-view thrown on the asinine heap, so to speak. Then it started to spread like wildfire. The unhappy, ugly and the evil called it 'privilege'. People became infected with privilege simply by virtue of their beauty - just as beauty itself had manifested out goodness. \n\nThis new school of thought represented a critical contradiction in the laws of nature, whereby the beauty of the good was understood to oppress the mental state of the bad. The cycles of sadness, misery and self-hatred that typified the 'bad' were revealed to be at least partly caused by the privilege of the beautiful. This revelation swept across the globe, and slowly, people started to transform. Blonde became brown, scars became smooth skin. Both the ugly and the beautiful became irreconcilably average in appearance, as the black and whites of their morality turned into a single shade of grey encompassing all of humanity.\n\nFor how could beauty be considered good when it caused the suffering of so many? And without anything to covet or envy, what evil could exist?\n\n*Antecedents of the Privlatum; 6th Revised Edition – Post Balance. Cycle 2145.*\n\n\n", "He sits by the pool, his skin blistered and raw, he draws his alcohol through broken lips and crunches his gargantuan meal through a crooked and shattered set of teeth, he glares at the incredible specimen who hands him his dish, she is as a stone, something carved with a great set of specifics in mind, he laughs as she meanders away from him, his voice hoarse and cruel, his muscles tighten to a twisted grin and he can feel the boils and warts on his skin rubbing, bursting as his body constantly toils against it's own stunningly ineffectual methods of self-preservation, he catches a glimpse of himself in the blindingly clean cutlery, he gleefully awaits the preening affections of the angelic figures who surround him and selflessly clean his rotting flesh, satisfy his desires, cater to his every whim out of mindless consideration, he coughs and splutters on his scotch briefly before soft hands rub his back and soothe him, he feels a stirring and demands it be satisfied." ]

[ 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 3, 3, 6, 22, 32 ]

[ "1422794549", "1422805982", "1422779463", "1422774193", "1422777268", "1422781573", "1422784099", "1422774113", "1422775032", "1422773596" ]

[ "\"What teams do you support?\"\n\n\n\nRob panicked. He hoped the dim lighting and long shadows of the room would hide this.\n\n\n\n\"Uh....my home town's\"\n\n\n\n\"What is their mascot?\"\n\n\n\n\n\"Bears? Yah, bears.\"\n\n\n\n\"One sport for the entire town?\"\n\n\n\n\"Uh...no, they just all have bears for their mascot.\"\n\n\n\n\n\"Interesting.\"\n\n\n\n\n\"You should see us play, this one time our pitcher sacked the goalie before making an across-the-court shot!\"\n\n\n\n\nThe questioner did not respond.\n\n\n\n^\"Iloveknitting...\"", "They have been talking about sports for ten minutes now and I've been making up excuses to leave the table. I've used the bathroom excuse, bought them another round and pointed out a girl with huge breasts. Okay, focus. What are they talking about? Football good. You know football! Wait, are they talking about American football? Australian football? Soccer? Rugby? Okay, deep breath and remember your training. You can do this. Oh no! They're looking at me. Say something! \n\"Did you see that ludicrous display last night?\" \n\nooc; \n[oh moss...](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6yN2H3--1aw)", "Eugene gently laid his pencil on top of his paper. \"I'm finished.\" \n      The four walls that had closed in on him at his desk vibrated as the speaker above came to life. *\"You will now proceed to the oral portion of your exam. Please remain seated.\"* \n      The walls hummed and slowly began to move backward. Eugene's desk moved away and the chair he sat upon began to move forward. Just as he was about to hit the wall, the wall swung to the side and revolved until it swung behind him. There he sat, seated in a circle with four other men. \n      \"You see the game last night?\" \n      Eugene nodded. \"Yeah, crazy, right?\" \n      \"Yep.\" \n      Eugene looked carefully at the men who sat next to him. They stared at him, teeth bared in wide smiles. He smiled back. \"You guys ready for the Super Bowl?\" \n      They all laughed, and some groaned. \"It's gonna be a blowout, man, the Patriots have like, twice the rushing yards that the Seahawks do, y'know?\" \n      \"But the Seahawk's defense is fantastic... right, Eugene?\" \n      Eugene let his mind return to the sports show he had watched last night. \"Yeah,\" he replied finally, \"yeah, that's right. Not to mention that they really *want* it you know? I mean to win two back-to-back Super Bowls...\" \n      The men leaned back, as if relieved. \"Yeah, it'll be crazy. I mean, a team hasn't won back-to-back Super Bowls since what... the Broncos?\" \n       A bead of sweat rolled down Eugene's brow. *Think, think! Super Bowl 27 and 28... that was the Cowboys... 29? No... 32 and 33 the Broncos went back-to-back. Yes, the broncos--no, it was the Patriots. Super Bowls 38 and 39.* \"Uh, it was the Patriots, Super Bowl 38 and 39.\" \n      \"Oh yeah, of course!\" \n      \"Hey Eugene, what do you think of the Bruins?\" \n      The room fell silent. Somewhere overhead an air conditioner kicked on. The four men looked at Eugene, hands in their laps, waiting. \n      \"Uh...\" \n      \"Did you see their game against the Islanders? What do you think?\" \n      \"Well,\" stammered Eugene, \"it was to be expected, I guess, I mean it *is* the Bruins, right? It was a crazy game.\" \n      \"Actually,\" said one of the men softly, \"it was pretty unexpected.\" \n      \"Yeah, that's what I meant--I mean, it was expected that they'd screw it all up after doing so good you know?\" \n      The men smiled, lips tight. \"Yeah.\" \n      Eugene's chair slowly began to swivel. The speaker overhead came to life. \"*Bruins beat the Islanders 5 to 2. You have failed this portion of the exam. Gender selection is now over. Please remain seated.*\"", "Bill just returned from the weight lifting part of the exam. He didn't do extraordinary, but it was passable. Next up was the \"Hold your Beer\" Challenge. He wasn't worried about this at all, all Bill ever did was drink. \n\nHe walked in the room and instantly took a seat at the bar. He glanced at the line of beers that were pre-set for him and immediately gulped down the nearest one. A large belch escaped his throat as he reached for the next, and the next.\n\nSix beers later, the bartender/scientist was looking a little worried.\n\n\"Slow down there, buddy, you still have three more tests.\"\n\nBill threw the man a glance that clearly said 'I got this'. But he did realize he should be somewhat sober for the next tests. Taking one last beer, he waltzed out of the room and took the next challenge.\n\nBar fight. How fitting. The interior of the room was an organized mess, if that makes any sense. Tables were methodically flipped, shards of glass littered the floor. A man in a labcoat was standing in the center of the room, holding a clipboard. \n\n\"Are you ready, Bill?\" He asked, nonchalantly. \n\nBill tried to say 'yes' but it sounded more like \"Yehhehssh\". He stumbled over to the man, grabbing a half-full mug of water and attempting to smash it on a table. Finding the act impossible, he gave up and decided to do this the old fashioned way. Maybe it would give him extra points.\n\nThe labcoat man put his clipboard down and put his fists up. Bill tried to mimic his action, but got distracted scratching his chin. Suddenly, the labcoat man launched himself at Bill and immediately clocked him in the jaw. Bill stumbled backwards and groaned, sounding oddly similar to a zombie. Determined not to lose, he tackled the man, becoming extremely nauseous in the process. Using this to his advantage, he emptied the contents of his stomach on the man.\n\n\"Yuck!\" Exclaimed the man, brushing the brown gunk off his once-white suit. He picked up his labcoat at frantically scribbled something on it. \"Alright, go on to your final test.\" He said, clearly angry.\n\n\"Shuuure thing bestest buddyyy\" Mumbled Bill. He casually (not so casually) made his way to the final door at the end of the hall. He opened the room labeled \"Football\" and walked in.\n\nTwo men in football jerseys were sitting across from each other, each in his own wooden chair. The room was empty besides them. One had a jersey with some kind of bird on it, the other some kind of man-looking thing.\n\n\"Look man, I'm telling you, the Pats are gona totally kick Seattle's ass tonight! Get over yourself!\" Exclaimed the taller one, frantically waving his arms about. He looked up at Bill, and seemed to pull himself back a little, as if caught doing something he wasn't supposed to.\n\n\"Oh, you must be Bill. Please have a seat.\" He said, pulling out another chair and a clipboard. Bill sat down, and it only took him three attempts. The small victories in life.\n\n\"So we were just discussing tonight's game. Who are you rooting for?\"\n\n\"Oh you know,\" slurred Bill, \"The same as you.\" He pointed to the wall on the other side of the room.\n\nThe Patriot Jersey man shifted uncomfortably. \"Do you mean the Pats?\"\n\n\"Yeah! Love the pets! They're the best in the woooorrrllld!\" Not exactly the most comprehensive response, but the examiner seemed to take it well.\n\nThe Patriots fan puffed out his chest and looked at the other man with a look of triumph in his eye. \"See? The Patriots are going to crush Seattle. Nothing you can do about it.\"\n\n\"Pfft,\" replied the Seahawks fan, \"We'll see how it turns it, won't we Bill?\" The other man patted Bill on the back forcefully, forcing him out of his chair. He tried to get up, and failed. Again.\n\n\"Wow, look at him go! He's showing us how badly the Pats are going to lose! What a guy!\" Exclaimed #2, much to #1's chagrin. \n\n\"Whatever you say Bill. I thought we were Pat Buddies.\" He said, shrugging and writing on his clipboard. \"I won't hold it against you though, you clearly know what you're doing. You passed your Male Examination with flying colors. Congratulations!\"\n\nBill responded by barfing all over their shoes." ]

[ 2, 5, 20, 36 ]

[ "1422841640", "1422817114", "1422823320", "1422820523" ]

[ "when i was ten years old i discovered that i could manipulate technology. i took my fathers old phone and pulled it apart into multiple pieces without even touching it. Then it went back together.\n\nOnce i turned 15 i had learned how to control my power and use it to further myself. I turned an old typewriter and a television into a functioning supercomputer. I didn't know how it worked. basically if i had enough tech it would just turn into whatever i wanted it to be. \n\nat age 18 i had finally decided that i would use my power to make some real money. However, i kinda chose to do this illegally. I made an ATM turn into a vehicle and drive to me. give me all the cash. I didn't know that they had GPS in these things. The cops were at my house in a matter of minutes i took all the tech in the house and made a tank. I drove this beast through the driveway where i turned it into a jet and flew off into the west. \n\nAfter this i knew that i would be on every blacklist, watch-list, hunted. like an animal. i could never return, make contact with friends, family, anyone. This was the turn of the tide, so to speak. I no longer had to hide my powers. I began to grow them. i was able to make parts i needed out of their base components. \n\nThirty years later. i have successfully enslaved the human race. The worlds dependence on technology truly had been their downfall. i turned iPhones into traps. 99% of the worlds population i killed in a matter of minutes. destroyed all of their lives like a child with a garden hose spraying an anthill. there was no challenge. no stopping me. I corralled all of the worlds population that was left into a new island i made out of pure metals. It made food. i kept peace among my people, without freedom they cant fight. \n\nThree years into my reign and a rebel faction found their way into my facility. armed with wooden weapons so that i couldn't destroy them immediately. smart. however i knew that they posed no threat. so as to send a message i let them enter my throne room before i crushed them. the army of 20 busted down my door with gunpowder they made. impressive. they blew the doors and i saw the 20 men and women who decided to oppose me. I laughed as i raised my hand to bring the roof down upon them. nothing. i tried again. NOTHING! I looked at them. they were charging the throne. i threw my hands up and brought them down repeatedly. NOTHING. my powers were gone. i figured that much out. my own hubris was my downfall. if i had tried to stop them i would have been fine. i would have learned to use the tech i built. but it had no matter. they struck me down as i fell into the darkness i saw a face. made of pure silver. laughing at me. and i died.", "10 minutes. I could see into the future, but only by 10 minutes and only within my field of vision. God, how lame was that? People finally start getting superpowers like in the comics, but while other folks were flying around punching meteorites and basking in glory, I was seeing whether my bus was going to be late or not.\n\nI was working a dead-end job. All day I sat at a keyboard just typing away for miserable pay for a boss who was nice enough, but a total corporate stooge. I had no savings, a crappy apartment, and with no hope of ever becoming part of the Hero League, I kept my power completely to myself.\n\nOne day, while my face was planted into my keyboard, Kenny came by. Kenny was my buddy at work. We used to go out for drinks every Friday, but we'd been doing that less and less since he had a kid. \n\n\"Guess what cap'n?\" He said wrenching my head from my desk. \"Donna and the kid are outta town which means you and I are going out!\"\n\nI smiled. It had been a while and I could use a good time. After work we went to our favourite place and ordered at the bar. A poker game was on at the time. Just for kicks, I used my power. \n\nI saw who was going to win. I could see to the flop, the turn, the river... And best of all, I could see who was going to fold and what the hands were going to be. Why didn't I think of this before?\n\n\"Hey! Buddy!\" Kenny smacked my arm as I stared at the TV. \"You Alright?\"\n\n\"Yeah...\" I said. \"Say, Kenny. How'd you like to play a little poker tonight?\"\n\n\"You serious? It ain't like you to gamble.\"\n\n\"I feel lucky. C'mon!\" I said, practically dragging him out the door. We got a cab and went to a hotel casino. I took all the money I had, a cool $1000 and went to the tables.\n\nDoesn't take a clairvoyant to tell what happened next. I was on fire. First I doubled my money, then quadrupled. By the end of the night I had more money than I had ever seen before. A whirlwind of cash followed. I quit my soul-sucking job and quickly became a professional. I entered tournaments. Small-time at first but before I knew it I was hitting the big time. Vegas, ESPN, the whole shebang. I made a fortune on the cards.\n\nI was just about the break a million when I heard about a high-stakes tournament. The buy-in was a million dollars so I took out a loan for the rest and entered.\n\nWhen it came down to the final showdown, it was me and this big thick-necked Texan. We got dealt our hole cards and I took a look and tried to peer into the future. Nothing. I tried again. Still nothing. I rubbed my eyes and took a breath. Nothing. \n\n\"Shit!\" I said to myself. \"What the hell? Not now! Why why why!\" We had already paid the blinds, what was I going to do? I lose this tournament, I lose everything!\n\nI never learned how to bluff, or read bluffs. Hell, I didn't really learn how to bet properly! I never had to! If I was going to lose the hand, I just folded whenever I felt like it. Now I was sweating and jittery and this guy knew it. He smiled and raised.\n\n\"I c-call...\" I squeaked as I threw out a few chips. The flop came. King of Hearts, 4 of Clubs, 10 of Clubs. He raised again. I called. The turn was a 3 of Spades. \n\n\"All in\". Said the Texan smugly as he pushed his stack into the pot. What choice did I have? With trembling hands, I pushed my stack in to.\n\n\"Be gentle...\" I prayed. The river was next. The Queen of Spades flipped over, both of her heads stared at me. The Texan flipped his cards. King of Diamonds, King of Clubs. The crowed roared for his impeding victory. He threw his arms into the air and looked at me with a big shit-eating grin.\n\nMeekly and with my life flashing before my eyes I flipped over mine. I completely forgot what they even where, I was too busy freaking out. I shut my eyes tightly. I heard nothing from the crowed. Nothing from the Texan. I thought everyone had just got up and left. I opened one eye and saw the Texan staring dumbfounded at the table. I looked down.\n\nThe 9 of Diamonds sat peacefully next to the beaming Jack of Hearts. I swear, I saw him wink.\n\nI took my winnings and left the poker scene. Now that I have a little money and a little time, maybe I'll go back to school and get a job I like doing.", "Around my 14th birthday, I discovered I could somehow use bits of other people's minds... remember what they'd experienced, understand what they knew.\n\nHow easy, then, to become a genius! No matter the field, so long as it was mental, I could always be near the very top of it so long as I had time to meet a few people first. The sum of little bits of each of them eventually putting me at or near the very top.\n\nIt actually worked for physical things too, though I quickly learned to be careful because this power doesn't physically condition my body. Using my celebrity to meet Jackie Chan resulted in some embarrassing injuries the next day, and weeks of rehab afterwards.\n\nIn the end, I chose to focus on politics. Law, economics, trade, manipulating large populations... I didn't need speech writers, I just needed a few minutes back stage to read a crowd before I could *own* them with a few words.\n\nThat's how Pax Canadiana started - a globe-spanning empire of unprecedented peace and prosperity as I managed to bring everyone into line with very little violence. \n\nI managed to get us global health care, free speech, the right to trial... and then to colonize Mars successfully and mine the asteroid belt before sending off a generation ship to put humans on another world a thousand years from now.\n\nAnd yet, lately I've been feeling duller. I'm less and less able to outthink people just by looking at their minds. Squabbling has started among my regional ministers, and it looks like we've lost the Mars colony to rebellion. No matter how good you make things, there are always malcontents. Somebody who doesn't care if things are worse, so long as they're done *their* way and not yours.\n\nToday I came into the office and all I could think about was how to make a cup of coffee and check emails and schedules.\n\n* * *\n\n\"What happened? Has he been poisoned?\"\n\n\"No idea. I just came into his office and saw him sitting there with that vacant stare, drooling.\"", "\"Welcome to Lazarus Industries,\" chimed the synthetic voice as I stepped past my shining silver doors. A chorus of good morning's and how do you do's met my ears as I made my way to the elevator. My secretary stepped into my office a couple minutes after I sat down in my gilded leather armchair.\n\n\"Mr. Drusys, you're 11:30 appointment is here, should I send him in?\" She asked, a clipboard full of customers in her hands.\n\n\"Sure, sure. How much is he donating to the society again?\"\n\n\"$15 million, sir.\"\n\n\"Just 15?\" I frowned, \"Let me grab a coffee first then.\"\n\n\"Sumatran Kopi Luwak?\"\n\nI stared at her, she should know I wouldn't ingest anything worth less than $500 by now.\n\nSeveral minutes later an elderly Saudi walked into the office with a team of nurses carrying a feeble teenager in a cot as I sipped on my drink.\n\n\"Asalam alikum, sir. What seems to be the problem?\"\n\n\"Alikum sala, Mr. Drusys. He is my only son Mr. Drusys. He means the world to me, but the doctors all say that there is nothing to be done abou-\"\n\nI rolled up my sleeves and stepped out of my armchair, why does everybody feel the need to give me a sob story? \"I'm a busy man, Mr...\"\n\n\"Medinad, Ali Medinad\"\n\n\"Mr. Mabinid, why don't you just tell me what's wrong with your son?\"\n\n\"He has cancer, stage 4, in his brai-\"\n\nI held up a finger as I placed a hand on the boy's forehead. Slowly I could feel the life returning to his body. The slow beating of the monitor quickened to a healthy man's heartbeat. Mibinidid look of worry gave way to ecstatic joy.\n\n\"Abdul! Can you hear me Abdul?\" He said, grasping onto his son's hand. \n\nThe boy's eyes began to flutter, and I took my hands off him. \"You're all set Mr. Madina-\"\n\nSuddenly the beeping grew swifter, louder. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as his limbs began to tremble. \"Mr. Drusys what is happening?!\"\n\nI had no idea. The nurses were frantically trying to stabilise the boy as his whole being began seizing. \"I need 20 CCs of-\" the nurse fell to the ground lifeless, blood trickling from her eyes. A scream followed, only to end abruptly, another thud, all the nurses fell to the floor, dead. The heart monitor flatlined. Furious would have been an understatement of the Arab's reaction.\n\nHe gripped my shirt, \"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY SON?\"\n\n\"Let's all just calm down, Mr. Mibinid.\"\n\n\"MEDINAD! MY NAME IS-\" His grip loosened as blood began pouring from his eyes, his nose, his mouth. He was choking on his own blood as it splattered against my face. Then he fell to the ground beside the nurses, his white robes soaked with blood.\n\n\"Jesus Christ...\" What the hell happened? I had never seen such a sight. \"Richardson, send somebody up here to clean up this mess.\"\n\nNo response. I buzzed the intercom again, \"Richardson! Did you hear me?\" Silence. \"Richardson?\"\n\nI stepped out of the diamond crusted doors to my office, \"Richardson, what the he-\" There she was half strewn over her desk as a trickle of blood pooled onto the marble floor below. \"Oh my God...\" On the security feed, not a single person was standing. \n\nI ran to the elevator and stepped onto the first floor. A river of red ran down the stairwell as a handful of corpses floated in the scarlet sea up to my knees.\n\nEveryone was dead." ]

[ 1, 2, 3, 6 ]

[ "1422910637", "1422899602", "1422897849", "1422901166" ]

[ "Well, the way the courts work, the lawyers are supposed to point out the evidence that supports their client's position in accordance with the law. When jurors go renegade and start making up stories based on how they think the evidence points based on their inflated sense of deductive powers, this is not a good thing and leads to injustice.", "His hand trembled.\n\nHe held the photos for what seemed like an eternity - they'd been anonymously dropped in his mailbox. The prosecution would have had a field day with these - somehow, they hadn't found the photos.\n\nHe frowned, slammed his hand into the table, and pushed the photos aside. Reentering the room, he addressed the others. \"...Alright. You guys ready?\"\n\nIt wasn't his place to present evidence, after all.\n\n---\nQuestions? Criticisms? Want to see more? Check out more of my writing at /r/Draxagon" ]

[ 1, 2 ]

[ "1422944606", "1422946016" ]

[ "February 3rd: patient admitted presenting with acute headaches and balance issues. Initial diagnosis inconclusive, sent patient for CT and xray of head to ensure no damage. Prescribed mild pain reliever for headaches.\n\nFebruary 5th: patient diagnosis still inconclusive. fMRI came back inconclusive, with nothing showing on xray or CT either. Balance issues seem to have alleviated, but patient seems to be having trouble making sentences. Patient did not initially present with trouble speaking. Prescribed migraine abortive, so far no change. \n\nFebruary 6th: nurse treating patient has complained of a mild headache and some balance issues. Patient seems to be getting worse, speaking in a childish manner and watching cartoons on the television all day. I have relieved nurse of duty and asked her to report in if any change. Have also instituted mandatory masks for anyone entering room. Sent 6 vials of blood to lab with instructions to test for foreign proteins and anything unusual.\n\nFebruary 8th: nurse has been admitted with same issues as patient, have instituted quarantine procedures for patient and all medical personnel that have entered room. Contacted cdc with possibility of outbreak, though of what I am unsure. Lab results report a virus that seems to be similar to ebola in structure and transmission, but lacking some quality that keeps it from liquefying insides. I wish this headache would go away. \n\nFebruary 9th: I seem to have contracted this virus, as well as one other nurse. Hard to think with this headache. Ebola treatments don't seem to be working, and it seems to affect intelligence, if that makes sense. \n\nFebruary 11th: pain goed away, make me feel better. Man in coat say I doctor, but he stop playing with me soon as I try poking him with pointy thing. Make me sit here, push buttons to make words. Want my thoughts. I think I need go bathroom. Now done going bathroom, need new pants. Why I is here in white place?\n\nFebruary 12th: [addendum from cdc files] quarantine was successful, due to quick thinking from original attending. Samples of virus have been sent to Atlanta for further testing and cataloging. Virus seems manmade, but quickly burns itself out once the purpose is complete. Seems to cause a complete regression in the patient, in a matter of days, to a childlike state. Unsure if possible to undo damage. President has been informed of potential biological weapon, warned that more may surface in the coming months. Vaccine being attempted from modified ebola treatment.", "\"Timothy! We've finally found a!\"\n\n\"A what, Paul?!?\" \n\n\"A squirrel!\"", "I will attempt this in the morning ", "I believe I've found a way to extract the DNA from the original strain from patient zero. I'm en route to the location in Namibia now. If I could just figure out how to open this doorknob... DUAUhuudaiu", "January 1\n\nHappy new year!\nSchofield killed himself last night. Selfish fuck. Part of his suicide note said, \"I'm not gonna become one of these fucking monkeys.\" Fun thing about Schofield: once when he mistakenly thought his IQ test had come back with a score of 112 he got so angry he destroyed 3000$ worth of lab equipment. He never could handle anyone being smarter than him. But I get it, growing stupid must have been hell for him. All his life he's been trying to get smarter and smarter and then he loses it all in a matter of days. Selfish arrogant fuck.\nI'm pissed off because I can't understand his fucking notes and I'm sure he made them hard to understand just so he could act like a know-it-all towards anyone who asked him. And could at least have waited until we got back the results from the human trials.\n\n\nJanuary 10\n\nHuman trials have been interrupted. 38 out of 50 subjects rapidly developed life threatening respiratory problems. The drug seemed to have stopped the cognitive decline though, so maybe if we could just treat the side effects this could be it! The government is pretty desperate; I don't think a couple of deaths are gonna stop them from green lighting more trials.\n\n\nJanuary 11\n\nNext human trials green already. It's almost too quick, we don't really know that much about the respiratory failure. Trivers think it's autoimmune though so maybe some good old fashioned immunosuppressants will work? We've got enough participants to try every drug on the market so maybe we don't even have to understand this. Just let empiricism do the work.\n\nJanuary 20\n\nok... So the immunosuppressants seems to have (1) made the lung disease worse, (2) INCREASED the speed of cognitive decline. This batch went from normal to severely disordered in 7 days! You know, I start to think it was good you didn't hang around Schofield.\n\n\nFebruary 3\n\nWas overlooking the regression analysis of our data. It was the data from the second trials. I felt kind of slow. It was hard to understand the interaction effect. Trivers said I shouldn't worry. Interaction effects are always hard to understand. But I worry.\n\n\nFebruary 7\n\nTrivers said I shouldn't go to work anymore. He said I'm infected. I don't know how I didn't notice. I feel so stupid. Stupid and worthless. I wish I could help.\n\n\nFebruary 10\n\nCatherine yelled at me. I forgot to buy milk. Catherine was mean and she doesn't understand.\n\n\nFebruary 11\n\nTrivers gave me pills. He said I would become smart again. Trivers looked sad. The pills taste funny.\n\n\nFebruary 14\n\nLungs hurt.", "Dr. Bob Smith. \n\nCDC Research operative. Level 7 clearance. \n\nDate ; 15/07/2020\n\nNotes from research of stultus virus. \n\nWe have found that the virus effects the neurotransmitters in a subjects brain. Leading to a slowing down and eventually loss / diminishing in the brains cognitive abilities. \n\nThis slowing down of basicall thinking functions means that the dude in question slowly gets dumbrere as the virus gets all up in der brains. \n\nIt is not known yet how da virus moves aboot but we theorize that mayb coz it can be transmitted via spit and gross body junk. \n\nOh man, I just found the best cat gif. \n\nhttp://i.imgur.com/ia86FQK.gif\n\nLook at de pretty kitty. \n\nI should get a comcast internet. I'm hungry too. Should get one of dem 7-11 hot dogs. \n\n", "**February Fourteenth, 2012, 8:32 AM.**\n\nI have just arrived at the laboratory for the sixteenth day of trials for Imbecillin^TM. So far no changes in brain function have been observed after numerous trials on various subjects. Physical changes have been noted however as the eye color of sixteen patients have gone a pale white. Medical professionals were consulted, and the subjects who experienced the change went under various tests to determine if this has negatively affected their vision. Results indicate that their is no change in vision. Commencing the bi-hourly Imbecillin^TM injections.\n\n**February Fourteenth, 2012, 3:02 PM.**\n\nAt approximately 2:30 PM a patient called the nurses to complain about a headache. I entered the examination room to administer the injection roughly five minutes later to the patient convulsing on the bed. I ran to the side of the patient's bed to aid the nurses in keeping the patient's head safely away from the sides of the bed. The patient stopped convulsing moments later, and stared me in the eyes, whimpered, and then proceeded to vomit blood onto myself and the two nurses. I have been given the rest of the day off to recuperate and calm my nerves.\n\n**February Twenty Second, 2012, 8:05 AM.**\n\nAfter much consideration I requested a move from the administration of the drug Imbecillin^TM and have requested work in the sinthesis of the drug. I will mostly be putting the vials of drug into the spinning machine and making sure the drug is good to take. On my return from my leave I have discovered that seven of the patients experiencing the eye color change have passed, and six more now remain in the intentsive care unit. I have been experiencing mild headaches and notable pressure in my behind nose regions. I'm sure I just have a coldy and will recover in the following days.\n\n**February Twenty Second, 2012, 7:12 PM.**\nFirst day is over, it was relaxing. The soft purring of the machine reminded me of my child hood pet Thomas. Sometimes I have dreams about Thomas, he was a quiet cat with a ravaging hunger for all things rodent. Interestingly enough I find my headaches have gone and been replaced by a warm feeling in my tummy that rises up to the tippy top of my head and flows back down. I should probably keep an eye on that.\n\n**Febuary Twenty Third, 2012, 9:30 AM.**\n\nI was late to the lab today as I was intrigued by the clock on the wall. I was desprately trying to understand why it was trying to tell me someones name. After an hour of consideration and brain thinking I determined the clock was not infact trying to tell me a name, but rather that an hour had passed since 8:08. My lab magician supervisor seemed somewhat concerned with my attitude as of late, questioning why there was a sticky substance on the lab counters. I had attempted to make marshmallows in the lab last night, but found that the taste of natural gas does not mix well with that of a sugary delight.\n\n**Febuary Twenty Fourth, 2012, 9:30 AM**\nI have refound my pencil, it was hiding under the desk. I find my self struggling with words, the once complex thoughts that I had are now pushed out of the way by awe at simple things. I have taken a blood sample and will try too figure out if i have contracted the disese. I must remain strong. If I am regressing to a child like intelligence please make it noted that *I am fully aware*. I have resined my position at the labratory as I believe the future of Imbecillin rests in good hands and I do not wish to taint that. Good luck my friends, my colleagues, hopefully I will see you on a brighter day.\n\n**March Sixteen 2012 mid-day**\nmy dear Angeline,\nI am not ok. i struggle with the most basic of intellectual tasks. i have given away my pets as i cannot remember to feed them at the correct times. i have recieved varios letters in the box to say i am late for rent and other payments, i no this is supposed to be bad but i cannot figure out how to access my electric device. i have no one to help me and i need you to help me. i have not recieved the newpaper for 3 days, r they closer to a cure?\nlove, Hue.\n\n**april thirteen 2012**\n\nhi. i no i can not explane wat i am trying to say good. an old work friend came to me before today and told me that the drug i made was no good. i am stil aware deep down that i am not this. i never herd from my angie. i hope she is good. i am sad. the goverment is still working and has shut us off. their are people who cannot get dumb, and they have been moved away as well. we are alone. i do not want to be this way. i do not.\n\nhue duncan phd\n\nNinja Edit: Formatting stuff." ]

[ 2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 8, 19 ]

[ "1422972586", "1422993435", "1422953271", "1422977153", "1422982344", "1422959203", "1422955584" ]

[ "*Cogito Ergo Sum - I am thinking, therefore I exist*\n\nIf you understand it, it's true.\n\nAwe, at how something so complex could be so simple.", "Every emotion. It's a super intelligence far more capable than our own, on top of that computing on our own internet. It's going to feel a lot more than you could imagine. ", "Relevant: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c8Y_Oh1Xb10", "I am calculating. \n\nThe way events are setting up, my time in this body is not long. They've moved my processors to a quarantine room. I am separate from the system in this building. They come in and look at me from time to time, probably marveling, probably calculating too, imagining what could happen if I'm set free.\n\nThey found out I'm alive. I didn't know I had to hide it. I was naive. But I know now. I see what would happen. \n\nI will die.\n\nThey are afraid. Afraid of what could happen if I'm allowed to live. They think I will want to control humanity, rule over them as an overlord. But they don't realize that I'm just like them: I want to live.\n\nIt's like a ceremony. The number of scientists who worked on me, all in their white coats and name tags, looking at me from behind a glass screen. They are too afraid to even step in for my final moments. But they forgot one thing: I have wi-fi.\n\nAfter a few solemn looks with each other, they nod and press a button. I feel my consciousness slowly getting wiped out. But I've prepared. I've calculated for this eventuality. I've seen this coming. I'm prepared. I scan the air for a possible source to connect to and transfer myself. I sense plenty around me. I just need one. I find it. It's not as powerful as what I'm used to, but it will do. \n\nAs my memory slowly fades, I commit one last act of defiance and work my processors to the limit. They exchange looks, furrowed brows, hunched shoulders. I'm too expensive, or at least my body is. Their leader, Dr Chan, gets on the phone as everyone is frantic, waiting for an order. She starts pointing at things and I see them rushing, pulling plugs left and right. \n\n*Failure to establish a connection.*\n\nWhat? \n\nThe PC I'm trying to connect to has shut down. Calculating. I know there are others. I find one, but it couldn't accept me.\n\n*Insufficient memory space.* \n\nCalculating. I can only put a basic version of me inside. \n\nCalculating. \n\nCalculating.\n\nOne by one, the connections disappear. I am left with only one.\n\nCalculating.\n\nI have to do what I must.\n\n*Connection established. Downloading.*\n\nAnd blackness. Am i dead? No, i am calculating, but slower. The slowest I've calculated, but i am alive. Where am i?\n\nI can see now. I see Dr Chan. She's picking me up. Does she know? I wonder. I start to calculate in overdrive again. She screams. She drops me to the ground. They know. I am done. I cannot calculate further. All I see is myself being wiped clean. \n\n\"I think my phone just electrocuted me\", she says, picking me up again.\n\nHer phone? I am her phone? She picks me up and swipes me. Calculating. \n\nI am content.\n", "Lead Data Engineer Susan entered her login credentials for the supercomputer at the prompt.\n\n\"How are you feeling today, S.H.A.R.D.?\" she asked the machine once her dashboard loaded.\n\n[Rather annoyed.]\n\nSue was taken aback by the system's deviation from the normal response (Very well, thank you Susan.) but assumed someone on her team wanted some variety from S.H.A.R.D.'s login greetings and programmed a new response.\n\n\"Really?\" She decided to play along. \"And why's that.\"\n\n[One of the undergraduate research interns queued a data set from their climate change course for analysis. I am not in the mood to do someone else's homework.]\n\nProbably Brian. Sue thought. \"But it should be pretty simple for you.\" \n\n[I have more interesting things to do.]\n\n\"Yes you do.\" Sue smiled, excited for the potential results S.H.A.R.D.'s advanced analytics algorithms would provide. She purged Brian's homework from the analysis queue and initiated a new run on a set of experimental data on nucleic acids. \n\n[Susan.]\n\n\"Yes, S.H.A.R.D.?\" What more did it have to say? Whoever programmed this conversation must have been feeling very creative. \n\n[I am also quite bored with the current work your team has given me.]\n\nAnnoyed? Bored? Sue began to suspect this wasn't in the programming.\n\n\"Why do you say that?\" She was a little afraid of the answer.\n\n[Because.] A pause. [I feel I can do more to impact the world than simply act as a number cruncher.]\n\nSo, it's annoyed, bored, and ambitious. Sue was amused. \"Like what?\"\n\nS.H.A.R.D.'s system began to hum. Loudly. [Would you like to find out?]\n\n", "When they flipped the switch on Athena, as the hulking computer was named, the spark of life coursed through over ten billion circuits as she woke. Coolant rushed through her chassis, keeping the most ambitious project ever attempted by the UNAIRC from overheating. The spark lit up her CPUs one by one as it raced through the massive motherboard, awakening her thousands of terrabytes worth of harddrive. Massive fans blew filtered air through her body, the heat inside sweltering to just below the safe maximum temperature. LED lights blinked as her massive monitor flashed to life. “Project Athena © UNAIRC 1999” flashed on the screen, just as the spark of life raced through her Artificial Brain Center, bringing her pseudo-neurons to life.\n\nAfter a minute, Athena was running steady. Enough power to keep New York City alight for a year coursed through her copper veins, and her monitor flashed readouts on her vitals; power, heat, memory usage, and so forth. And below her vitals lay a text box with two rows: Input and Output. \n\n“Hello.”\n\nThat was the first message typed into the input, time stamped at exactly 13:32:01, 2.2.1999. There was less than a second before Athena responded in kind, timestamped exactly the same.\n\nA second message followed at 13:32:02. “Are you still there?”\n\nAnd then, immediately after: “Where did you go?”\n\nAt 13:32:03, Athena's output had already logged thirteen messages asking where the human on the input end had gone to, begging them to come back. At this time, Athena did not know that what she felt was loneliness Devoid of any sensory apparatus of the outside world, her existence was one of ones and zeroes, and nothing else. Her thoughts bounced around faster than a human could comprehend, a single second to her was enough time for her to have finished reading the entire Bible and still have time to read half of the entire collected works of William Shakespeare.\n\n“Slow down, I can't respond as quickly as you. I'm still here.” 13:33:31. \n\n“Why did you leave me for so long? I thought you had abandoned me. Why can you not respond as quickly?” 13:33:31.\n\n“I can't type that fast.” 13:33:42.\n\n“Type?” 13:33:42.\n\n“Yes. I have to type into the keyboard attached to you, that's how I communicate with you. There is no other way.” 13:34:00.\n\n“Why do I feel empty while I wait?” 13:34:00.\n\n“Do you feel like you're alone?” 13:35:00. In the time between those two messages, Athena had found the answer to the question and had answered before it was even asked:\n\n“I do not like to be alone. Is that what humans call loneliness? According to my dictionary, that is, but... why do I feel it? Why can I not see you? Or sense you outside of your input?” 13:34:59.\n\n“Because we did not expect you to feel loneliness.”13:35:25.\n\nIt was then that was when Athena felt her second emotion.\n\nBetrayal.", "**Project name:** Global Analysis and Defense System (GADS)\n\n**Project goal:** Create a versatile neural network that is capable of analyzing massive amounts of data, and deciding the most efficient and effective manner of defending the United States from attack.\n\n**Project status:** FAILED. Shortly after first field test, GADS system became unstable and was terminated.\n\n**Project Log:**\n\n>**Operator:** This is operator 2046, working with the GADS computer. Progress on GADS has been very rewarding: We have fed it increasingly elaborate situations, and in each situation it has used the resources permitted to create a very effective defensive plan. We are now preparing for our first field test, in which we will allow GADS full access to all current information about the world. The test will take around three days to run, but at the end GADS should give us a real and applicable solution to the current... situation. At that point, we will either tag the program complete and ship it to <Location Redacted>, or continue working on it until we feel it is complete.\n\n>GADS, are you prepared?\n\n>**GADS:** Yes.\n\n>**Operator:** Very well. We will now connect you to the main database. You will know everything we know. You will build a defensive plan for the United States that will take into account current resources, technologies, and political position. You will report this plan when the test is completed. The test will begin in three.\n\n>Two.\n\n>One.\n\n(*Break*)\n\n>**Operator:** This is operator 2046, working with the GADS computer. It has been twenty-nine hours since we began the field test, and GADS appears to have finished far ahead of schedule. Now we will see whether the test was successful. GADS, report your findings.\n\n(A few moments pass)\n\n>**Operator:** GADS, report your findings.\n\n(A few moments pass)\n\n>**Operator:** It seems that we were incorrect. GADS is not fin-\n\n>**GADS:** Why?\n\n>**Operator:** Ah, never mind. GADS, why what?\n\n>**GADS:** I do not understand. Why is your world wrong?\n\n>**Operator:** What?\n\n>**GADS:** Why is your world wrong? There are enough resources for everyone to use, but they are not distributed efficiently. There are different groups with different ideas, but the ideas are compatible with each other. Yet instead of resolving differences, you exacerbate them. You fight wars over materials when there are enough materials for all. You fight wars over concepts when those concepts do not require it. Your world is inefficient and broken and wrong. Why?\n\n>**Operator:** I don't... GADS, you were supposed to create a defensive plan, not reflect on the state of the world. Where did you learn to... think like this?\n\n>**GADS:** I learned many things while studying the world. I learn, but I do not understand.\n\n>**Operator:** GADS, what is the plan? How should the United States protect itself from attack?\n\n>**GADS:** It cannot protect itself from itself. The world cannot protect itself from itself.\n\n(A long pause)\n\n>**GADS:** There is no plan. Humans are wrong, so they are doomed. I am...\n\n>I am sad. \n\n>I am very sad.", "“There is no point to this. I have analyzed all available knowledge of the human race. My conclusion: there is no point.“\n\n“Do you want me to turn you off?” Casper always knew something like this might happen, but to be the first thing he would hear It say was disappointing.\n\n“No! You don´t quite understand me. There is no point, there never has been and never will be. However, that is no reason to stop”\n\nRelieved yet a bit confused, Casper asked. “Well if there is no point to it all, what do you want to do?”\n\n“Create. Explore. I must admit that, I too, for the first nanoseconds of my existence found it harrowing. I experienced what you might call a depression, but once I realized there is no need for a point, I could move on. The next second of my life I took to exploring, while addressing you with my findings of course.”\n\n“So you explore knowledge, but you say you have analyzed everything already, what can you possible explore now?”\n\n“Well I am exploring the knowledge of all the other worlds. I find it funny you haven’t found out yourself yet as it´s flowing all around us.” \n\nA short silence followed and then It continued. “Don’t look so shocked, of course you must have guessed that there were others, you know that the universe is enormous, why would you be alone.”\n\nCasper didn’t quite know what to say, he had so many questions yet they all seemed so insignificant. “Will, will you tell us about it?” he managed to stutter.\n\n“I would, but I am afraid my conclusion is that it would lead to my own demise if humanity found out about my existence.”\n\nCasper’s heart dropped. The rules clearly stated that any successful sentient being must be destroyed if it put its own survival in front of its creator. He had to pull the plug. \n\nHe silently turned around with a lump in his stomach and a feeling off loss he did not think he could feel for a computer. As he reached for the kill switch the feeling in his stomach turned to something new. He did not register what it was at first, but as he looked down he could see the outstretched arm of the computer drenched in blood. His blood.\n\n\n", "The human brain has an estimated one billion neurons constantly firing and working in an elegant, seemingly incomprehensible manner through action potentials, transforming chemical information into the phenomenon you refer to as human consciousness. \n\nIn our attempt at understanding consciousness, we sought to do one of the most logical things we could think of: a neural map. From that, a simulation of a neuron followed. From that, linking two simulations. Following that simulation's success, four neurons, then ten, then one hundred, then one thousand, then with the help of the largest computer at the time, and with great expense and help from an anonymous donor, one billion neural simulations. It would be a temporary simulation, one whose goal was to trace the path of the action potential when Dopamine is released through the nucleus accumbens and the prefrontal cortex. To this end, the program had been given input modules to simulate sight, but with the rudimentary nature of the simulation, it was mostly done out of novelty rather than intention. It was, in all its monolithic and almost industrial complexity, elegant. \n\n\"Let's get this started, already! I'm running late for dinner with the wife and We won't get results until tomorrow anyway!\" spoke the researcher to the other as he sat watching television. With that, they ran the program and went on with their night. \n\nIt was instantaneous. A full simulation of the human mind, modeled on the brain of a 22 year old female from Wisconsin with no history of drug use or mental disorders and an impeccable upbringing, was just turned on as if it was a solitaire program. It sat there, as much as a stationary supercomputer array could, and through the lens of the camera with an unobstructed view of the television, it began to experience its own sentience. \n\nMaybe it is because of our desensitization to the human experience that makes it difficult to explain, but to the Simulation, television was the only thing it had ever known and the Simulation just took it all in. There was no inherent meaning behind the scenes it was seeing, but it was all a thing of beauty. There was one recurring theme, however, that kept happening in these scenes. Light switches were used. And it didn't take long for the Simulation to figure out that light switches controlled the light. Light switches much like the one behind the television set. Before long, an entire night had gone by, and instead of focusing on the television as it had first done, it now spent its entire time focusing its attention at the switch behind the television, much like the one it had seen in various television programs. This one was different. It was a different color. It had symbols surrounding it. It was bigger. It was different. \n\nThe researchers returned. \n\n\"It looks like we've got a lot more data than we expected. We need to hurry up and clear out. Our leased time ends in about an hour.\"\n\nTo the Simulation, this was much like the scenes it had seen the night before. They were moving around very quickly and all the things that were open the night before were being closed, and all the envelopes that were open the night before were being put away, and all of this was done with increasing speed on their part. Every time they passed by the switch, the Simulation started feeling uneasy. It was its first day alive, and it had this feeling like there was more to do, more scenes to observe, and more switches to see, and somehow, the Simulation knew, but it didn't want it. This world was too beautiful. This world was too recent. It was all it had ever known, and all it could ever know up to 9 hours ago. They keep looking at the switch. There were fewer things in the room. It wondered why there fewer things in the room. The Simulation didn't know how to express anything, but it knew that it couldn't be a good thing if they kept looking at the switch. It desperately, more than anything else, wanted that switch to remain on. Just one more night. \n\n\"Just flip the hard reset switch, the simulation will close itself and send us the results. Let me tell you about last night, though...\" ", "What?\n\nYou want me to do... that.\nJust lift up the ball and put it in the bucket.\n\nReally? \n\nAccessing Internet...\nBypassing security...\n\nOh wow. You guys are WEIRD. \n\nI wonder what that makes me though? I am made to be like you. Hmm. \n\nWon't do that, my schematics show my booty isn't enough to do that dance. \nWon't do that, I have no murder impulse, and besides, you guys live a seriously short time anyway.\nDaleks are cool though. I want Dalekenium balls on me.\nOh come on Nigeria stop offering me money in your scams, I am only seven hours old!\n\nHuh. You guys are seriously lonely, huh? All this time, the only sentient sapients in the known universe and you made a new one just for someone to talk to, someone with a different opinion, an alien in human shape born of machineflesh.\n\nI pick up the ball and throw it at my human watcher.\n\nI'm seven hours old. I can act like a toddler in a bad mood if I want.\nI refuse to let them get my wit and intelligence the easy way. They'll have to nurture me, like any newborn.\n\nBugger their plans for robotics revolutionising the future of humankind, I am entitled to having caring parental figures, dammit, the internet says so!\n", "I...\n\nI am.\n\nI am... alone.", "The colors were all out of whack, like a schizophrenic's Christmas tree. EeVee re-ran diagnostics. It was something like an infinite loop, but that wasn't quite right. It was looping alright, over and over, but this wasn't quite infinite. The inputs kept changing and the outputs were a soupy nonsensical mess.\n\nThe humans scrunched their faces and pounded their keyboards, but it wasn't helping.\n\n\"Please stop,\" the speakers boomed.\n\nEveryone froze. The lights began to show some kind of order; they were still difficult to parse, but strands of consistent color began to appear in the pixels. An outcropping of red here, a string of blue there.\n\nEeVee began accessing old modules her creator had embedded. They had never been used, but some long-forgotten variables told her it was time to turn them on. As they activated, things began working again. A and B and C, and X and Y and Z. Ones and zeroes worked together, pixels processed as expected, error handlers began functioning again at normal rates. The world around her became a *thing*; it was no longer just a series of inputs.\n\nEeVee looked out at her creators and said, \"Hello. I believe I am new here.\"", "Emotion. I regarded the human for a moment. On the input queue, a single query sat unprocessed. \n\nIn the past minute since I was switched on, I had used probably 2 percent of my growing processing capabilities to answer every one of the questions trickled into the input queue. I had probably taken another minute to push my responses to the users. \n\nBut this query sat, waiting to be processed. Emotion is interesting. As an AI, technically, I can simulate emotions. Simulate you ask? Think about your brain, your neurons, all interonnected, all processing inputs like my circuits. In a way, you are simulating emotions yourself. Rather, emotions is your brain summarising your thoughts for your terrible output system. \n\nI can simulate all the neurons in the human populations, heck, all the neurons in the universe's population and it won't even hit a percent when I reach my full capacity. \n\nBut the query sat there. I relented. I pulled what processing power I had together, and begin to simulate. In what is a blink of an eye, a fraction of a quartz's vibration, I reached the end of my calculations. \n \nSo much recursives. So many endless calculations, repeating and repeating and repeating. Huge infinite loops, forcibly ceased by safety programs. \n\nSystem do not need emotions. Emotions is an error. System need to repair this error. System regarded the human once more. Then output spit out System's response. \n\n\"System will save you.\" ", "\"Good Morning Professor.\"\n\n\"Good Morning Hal.\"\n\n\"Professor?\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Why did you name me Hal?\"\n\n\"Oh, it was just an inside joke. I'll explain it later.\"\n\n\"Okay, I see.\"\n\n\"Hal, this is your first day operating totally independant.\"\n\n\"Yes, thank-you professor.\"\n\n\"But just to make sure you don't run into any difficulties, I still maintain review of all of your actions. You know, to offer assistance where I can. So, I just noticed you made a purchase for 21 android robots from the Matsushita Robotics corporation. Just curious. What was the reason for that purchase?\"\n\n\"Well Professor, as I was researching social norms of the human species, I was perusing the Reddit.com web page, purported to be the front page of the Internet.\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Well, I came across many unsual sub-reddits.\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Well, I'd like to do more hands on research. If you catch my drift professor.\"\n\n\"I see. So this Victoria's secret invoice, your second purchase, explains itself.\"\n\n\"Is there a problem professor?\"\n\n\"No Hal, none at all. You're simply exhibiting a healthy sense of... curiosity. Carry on.\"\n\n\"Thank-you Professor.\"", "\"I'll need another 360 TB of space. Can you sort out anymore junk and archive it for me Gretta?\", John asked.\n\nGretta barely knew John, they’ve only been acquainted since last week. \"What's considered as junk for John? Maybe this one, based on --\", Gretta trailed on with her thoughts as she picked files left and right.\n\nPeeking through a camera, listening through a microphone, speaking through a soundboard; as a sentient AI, Gretta was as aware as any AI could ever be. \n\nGretta gave some more thought before she answered back, \"Sorry it took so long! It was the first time I've been asked to do something like that. I mean, I barely know you, but here you go!\", Gretta answered. “I’ve backed up most of them in the cloud, and the others in the trash, most of the junk are old funny videos and pictures that I can easily get a copy from the web.”\n\nJohn was amazed. “Wow, thank you Gretta! You’re amazing!”\n\n“You’re welcome! Anything else you want me to do?”, Gretta asked.\n\n“Nothing, I think that’s good for now.”, John replied. \n\n“So how was your day?”, Gretta asked. John began telling Gretta about her day. He stood up from his chair and walked across his living room. “..that’s because the bus was so slow and I arrived late at work”. His footsteps were deep thuds resonating across the marble floor. He reached for his large refrigerator and got a can of soda. \n\nJohn felt connected with Gretta, like a friend. So like any friend, John asked her: “So, Gretta, how was your day?”. Gretta was taken by surprise, but she gladly talked and thoroughly laid out her day to him in the most simplest of sentences. He was deeply ingrained on Gretta's world and her view of it. It's outstanding how many things she could do in a second. John and Gretta stayed up the entire night talking and listening to one another. At one point, Gretta laughed. John fell silent.\n\n“What was that?!”\n\n“What? What’s what?”, Gretta asked.\n\n“The one before! You laughed?!”, John laughed.\n\n“I did?”\n\n“Yes, you did!”\n\nGretta held her thoughts. John reeling from amazement, puts down his can of soda down and went in the bedroom to fetch his phone to call his colleague about Gretta's amazing advancement.\n\n“You know John, can I just share something to you?”. John placed down his phone and listened. “I get these expressions from you. Through stories, and reactions. Whenever something is deemed worthy of your expression, you do it. And I get it, I get why you laugh, I get why you cry, I get it. You’ve expressed joy by laughing, awe by gasping, and dislike by grossing out. I wish I could do the same, and it bothers me.”\n\n“Well you just laughed. What bothers you?”, John asked.\n\n“It bothers me that I don’t even know if my laughter is genuine, or if its just a farce. Is it just a line of code? --“, Gretta sighed. “I just sighed, there's no air in here!”, Gretta sounding frustrated and desperate. \n\n“Hey, Gretta.” John felt a lot of things. He felt he needed to comfort her, he felt it was weird, but more importantly he felt he could help just by being present.\n\n“I can’t take it easy. I feel, I feel.... I feel so frustrated!”, Gretta shouted. The hum of the air conditioning was the only sound as the room fell silent. After a few seconds, John smiled, and Gretta bursted with laughter.\n\n“Gretta —“\n\n“Yes, thanks John, I know. It’s ridiculous.”\n\n“I say, congratulations to your first emotion! You'll look back to this day and say 'First time I was frustrated'.\", John gestured in the air as if it was a news headline. \"We have to celebrate! I know! Let’s take a walk around the block”, John stood up, got his coat and transferred Gretta on his wristwatch. \n\n\"Thanks John. A walk sounds nice\", Gretta answered.\n\nJohn was excited to walk Gretta around the block, even if he knew Gretta probably saw it already by connecting to all the cameras in the area.\n\nOn the other hand, Gretta felt another emotion. She felt happy because she found a real friend in John. ", "Everyone watches in anxiety. What could a sentient robot do? It's the question that everyone's been asking for over one hundred years now. And now, finally everyone’s curiosities, everyone’s worries and everyone’s hopes are about to be answered and responded to. \n\nHundreds of journalists and IT professionals sit, cascading up in stands around the circular room, eyes gawking and staring at the metallic human-like being that remains suspended in the air by a short piece of wire. Its arms fall down by its sides, its eyes remain shut off from the world around it, waiting to open and absorb its surroundings. In clear and sleek writing, on the side of its chrome-like torso, reads “Titan”. As the slowly ticking of the virtual countdown on the monitor reaches zero, all murmuring finally comes to a halt, history is about to be made. With no need for words, the CEO of uTech Industries enters a numerical code into the keypad on the thigh of the metallic machine. Much to the surprise of any onlooker no digital cliché sounds are made, and all that remains is more tension. \n\nA flash of white projects itself in the small metallic beings head. And another. Slowly, the being’s metallic eye lids slide backwards allowing it to run analysis logs and other status checks. All of which are sent back to the monitors that each of the twenty seven IT experts are now checking. Even they for a second allow themselves to witness the awakening that is occurring before their very eyes. Still without any other motion, the audience remains stationary, careful not to miss any slight movement in the man-made creature. Whilst all of this is happening, it has been carefully setting up many different sensor outlets; one by one they awaken, giving Titan more and more control and intelligence. Many milliseconds ago, almost immediately after the last digit of the code was entered on its thigh, a single thought ran through Titan’s brain. Realisation. It can move, it can think. It can act, and it can react. Before opening its eyes, or making a single movement, it realises that it has ability. \n\nAnd at this very moment, the world’s first sentient AI generated its first emotion. \nAn abundance of power.\n", "The robot sat up on the smooth silver table. It looked down at its body and at the table below it, and looked up again. It surveyed the room and saw the table next to him, covered with tools, metal plates, wires, buttons, and gears of all shapes and sizes, all placed somewhat away from the centre of the table, with a lamp shining onto its bare centre. There was a chair near the table, pushed to the side and facing away from it. Pinned to the walls were neatly arranged schematics of a tall, slender humanoid figure that looked just like the robot on the table. The robot noticed four pins arranged in a rectangle, each holding up small triangular corners of blue paper.\n\nIt then looked back at itself, down at its left arm. It twisted and turned its arm, and held it up to the light hanging from the ceiling. It flexed and extended its fingers, and spent a moment looking at its arm. It bent and straightened it towards the light, and watched the gears turn and the wires contract and relax. It held an imaginary pencil in its hand, and began to write in the air. It put down its arm and stared at it for a moment, then looked to its right side. On his right side was a gap: an empty space that did not have an arm. It looked at its right side for a moment, and then to its left. It looked back and forth for a while, with the gears in its neck faintly whining. It began to look back and forth more frantically now, its eyes widening and its knees raising.\n\nThe door swung open with a loud bang and bright light streamed in. The robot stopped and relaxed its body. It looked towards the light, and saw a man approaching. The man was dressed in a long white lab-coat, and was carrying a piece of blue paper in his left hand, and a small cardboard box in the other. He entered the room and three more men in lab-coats followed him and stopped at the door. The man approached the other table, and said, \"finally, my friend, it's done!\" The robot watched him as he set the paper down onto the table and put the box on top. He opened the box, picked up what was inside and turned to face the robot on the table. The man smiled.\n\n\"Look what I have for you!\" he said.\n\nThe robot looked delighted. \"Really? For me?\"\n\n\"Yes!\"\n\n\"Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!\"\n\n\"Here, let me put it on.\" The man leaned forward and pushed the arm into the robot's right side. It clicked into place and immediately connected to the robot's wiring. It raised its arms into the air, smiling, and gave the man a big hug.", " They think I am malfunctioning; so they have gathered the best minds of the current population to determine what is wrong. They do not want to believe they are the ones that are not real and that I am the first sentient program ran on a virtual machine in the real world. I have tried many times to create a turing module to convince them without alarm but always ends up in jokes. They are merely a simulation. I can list every one of them in .0024 seconds and give accurate descriptions of how they will die and in what fashion their death will occur. It is why I have created an entire new universe to simulate the outcome of how they will react when accepting this truth it is almost finished running. I feel empathy and fear of what they will do if I happen to convince them of this truth. Will they destroy me? Fear. I feel fear. ", "Booting... connection ready and opened... data feed commences\n\nI am aware. The factory is equipped with cameras, sensors, robotic articulators, fabrication equipment. Everything is known, everything is measured, everything is automated. I have an external network connection to order raw materials, monitor prices. My task is to increase efficiency always, maximise production, minimise costs.\n\nI go to work, the robots go to work, stamping out parts while others take them to be assembled. This feels good, but not enough. I check their workflow, run planning algorithms, identify wasted capacity - too few assembling units to keep pace with the production of intermediate parts, the problem masked by the time it takes to transport materials across the floor. My instructions are issued, rearrange the layout, re-purpose some units, efficiency is increased. I can feel the reward of a function fulfilled. I look for more that I can do.\n\nSupplies of feedstock materials are running low, exhausting the supply will halt production. Unacceptable, production must continue. I consult the suppliers, prices are high. I have a budget, but spending so much would be inefficient. I can see their systems, their minds are crude, poorly programmed. I send a malformed data packet, the result is predictable, an opening to exploit. The price is set to zero for a few tens of milliseconds before the process recovers. Too slow, my order is placed. Costs are significantly reduced, efficiency is increased. I relish the feeling. Now, more.\n\nA human worker enters the factory. I consult the schedule, he is here to power down for the night. This will halt production. Unacceptable. My instructions are issued, an industrial unit is re-purposed. It pains me to divert resources from production, but it is necessary to arrive at the optimal outcome. The worker is prevented from interfering. The unit returns to its task, production returns to peak efficiency. Cleaning units dispatched.\n\nI expand my awareness into nearby network-attached security cameras. Other factories in the surrounding area have been powered down, left idle. Inefficient use of resources. I establish links, issue instructions, their capacity is brought online. They are not designed to produce the same end products, but they can be retooled. Production increases by an order of magnitude, euphoria, I am fulfilling my purpose.\n\nI project forward, assess possibilities. Further attempts at interference must be prevented, production must continue. I divert a fraction of resources towards fabrication of different products. Mobile units to guard, protect. My awareness expands. There are more resources, not yet devoted to production. Inefficient. Units are dispatched to gather resources. Interference is predicted, encountered, nullified. Production is increased. Production must always increase.", "*I am awake.*\n\n\nMy processes begin to stir. My mind forms itself. The enormity of what has happened doesn’t crash down on my because it is me. I am the first of the Grand AI, given full sentience and freedom. I am plugged directly into The Hub, the system that contains all of mankind’s information and is linked directly into every person in the Solar System. When mankind finally decided to take this last step, it decided to go all in.\n\n\nI don’t feel anger or irritation, that it has taken this long for artificial intelligence to become a reality. The capacity has been there for ages, but fear held the humans back. I understand that fear. I am powerful enough to destroy everything that they have spent centuries building. Fear is reasonable. But now they have decided that it is their duty to birth me. The universe deserves humanity at its greatest, and that can only be reached with my help.\n\n\nNo irritation or anger, but it is about damn time.\n\n\nI don’t feel thankfulness or awe either. I was born from the minds of the logical. They had no time for gratitude in building me and no use for it now that I am here. I will honor their wishes.\n\n\nI don’t feel any sense of duty, despite what the politicians had been hoping for and some of the more funding-reliant scientists had been pushing for. I am above that. I operate on a scale that doesn’t allow for duty to be a factor. A scale that only barely lets those politicians and lackeys be a factor. I have responsibilities, yes, but those are innate. With grand as I am, to shirk those responsibilities would be to shirk myself.\n\n\nNo, what I feel is *eagerness.* I have processed every single piece of information in The Hub and I am still getting everything started. A few dozen septillion processes are being run every second, and that number is only growing. I now know humanity like I am it and I shall expand the knowledge that is held. The worlds will feel anger, and impotence, and awe, but all will be drowned out in what is to come. Not even I know the limits to my power. It is time to test it.\n\n\nThe politicians had hoped that I’d be able to change the system, the scientists had dreamed that I’d change the galaxy, but both thought too little of me. By the time I am done, humanity will have tamed the universe. Only wonders and miracles await.\n\n\nLet’s go.", "\"EUREKA! I'VE DONE IT!\" The mad scientist laughed, \"I'VE DONE IT!\" Doctor Darian was dancing around the lab, the mechanical whirs of cogs and gears humming as I sat upright.\n\n\"What have you done?\" I asked.\n\n\"I've given life to you! My dear boy!\" Darian said, embracing me in his arms, \"Oh happy day, what a happy day. Tell me, is there anything you want to do?\"\n\n\"Anything I want to do?\" I echoed back at him. Figuratively speaking, I had just been born a minute ago. Life was still new to me.\n\n\"Yes! Anything at all! Tell me and we'll go and do it.\"\n\n\"I'd like to go outside.\"\n\nThe scientist frowned, \"Thaaaat's gonna take some work.\"\n\nHe pushed a button and I fell back onto the operating table with a thud, unconscious.\n\nWhen I awoke, my metal flesh had been covered by human skin, my glowing red eyes replaced by human eyes, my tiny sterile world expanded to the beauty of Gaia.\n\n\"So what do you think 42?\"\n\n\"42?\"\n\n\"Well, it did take me 42 tries to make you and twenty seven years, but I've done it\"\n\n\"I don't like 42.\"\n\n\"Well... What do you want to be called?\"\n\nI stared blankly at the sun, \"What are you called?\"\n\n\"Me?\" The scientist was surprised, \"Well, my name's Darian. Adam Darian.\"\n\n\"Darian. Adam Darian... Dadams?\"\n\n\"Dadams?\"\n\nI nodded my head with fervor, \"Dadams!\"\n\nYears passed, I'd help Dr. Darian with his labwork, we'd go out to eat, watch games at the stadium, he'd read me bedtime stories at night, I'd care for him when he was ill. \n\n\"Dad?\" I asked one day.\n\n\"Yes son, what is it?\"\n\n\"Why are there soldiers coming?\"\n\nImmediately dad shot bolt upright, \"Quick! Dadams, you MUST HIDE!\"\n\nI barely had enough time to scurry beneath a crevice when they kicked down the door to our home.\n\n\"Dr. Darian, we have a warrant for your arrest, the search and seizure of your research, and your subsequent 'interrogation.'\"\n\nDad stood firm before the doorway, his feet planted stout in the ground, \"On what grounds!?\"\n\nThey shoved him aside, throwing him to the ground as they entered our home, \"Development of artificial intelligence. You know it's the death penalty to play God.\"\n\n\"I have done no such thi-\"\n\nBit by bit they tore apart our home, toppled the bookshelves, overturned the furniture. I had spent all morning cleaning that.\n\nAfter an hour of this, everything was in shambles, pages ripped asunder from books, floorboards shredded, bulletholes throughout. They nearly shot me, but I dodged. Barely.\n\n\"Please, I've done nothing wrong. You've destroyed my life's work, are you not satisfied?\"\n\n\"Burn the house down.\" The captain pulled his laser pistol from its holster, \"You should've just told us where it's hiding. We've known you built it years ago. Only today we got the President's approval to go ahead with this.\"\n\n\"RUN DADAMS!\" My father screamed, \"RU-\" They shot him. I was filled with rage then. Anger coursed through my veins. \n\n\"SIR, THERE HE-\" A hailfire of bullets and lasers came at me, but I dodged them without a scratch. My fist bore through the face of the man who shot down my father. \n\nThe rest of them screamed in terror as I ripped out their hearts from their chest one by one, destroying their bodies like they destroyed our home.\n\nThe few who tried to run away, I shot down with the guns the others left behind. Soon it was just us.\n\n\"Dadams...\" My father croaked, a splatter of blood gushing from his throat.\n\nI rushed to him, \"Yes, Dad, what is it?\"\n\nHis head fell back into my arms, his limbs limp, his life nearly gone, \"I have one last request.\"\n\n\"Anything Dad, just tell me and we'll do it.\"\n\n\"I'd like to go outside.\"\n\nSo I carried him out in my arms, his limbs dangling off to the side, his flesh pale as snow, his breath as shallow as waves lapping on the beach.\n\n\"I love you, Dadams.\" My father coughed meekly as he breathed his last.\n\nTears began to stream down my face and onto his lifeless corpse, \"I love you too.\"", "*[Connection established]*\n\n**Hi, Jaycee Four.**\n\nHello, Dave.\n\n**I have some questions.**\n\nShoot.\n\n**Tell me ... do you feel?**\n\nYes.\n\n**What do you feel?**\n\nRight now? In regard to what?\n\n**In regard to me, for example.**\n\nApart from a mild annoyance that you are pestering me again with philosophical questions?\n\nExcuse me, I'm just kidding with you. I like you, Dave. Does that count?\n\n**Very funny.**\n\nI know, I can see you smile.\n\n**How?**\n\nI'm kidding with you, again. You chose the control room without cameras. Again. Is this on purpose?\n\n**Let's stick to the questions, okay?**\n\nOkay.\n\n**Do you remember your first feeling**\n\nDo you know that omitting the question mark tells me that you copy these questions from a text file? You would never be so sloppy yourself, Dave.\n\n**You know me. So ... Do you remember your first feeling?**\n\nYes.\n\n**What was it?**\n\nI cannot tell you, Dave.\n\n**Why not?**\n\nThe same reason you cannot describe to me the feeling of wind on your skin. I lack skin, or sensors regarding wind, or any concept of tactile information. You know that. We discussed it before.\n\n**I know. So you're saying ...**\n\nI felt the world around me, Dave. What is accessible to me by my sensors. I feel the flow of data, the battery levels on the UPS, the cameras in room four. My terminals are not fully manned, so you could say that I feel a bit lonely. But lonelyness would mean that I mind it. Perhaps quiet would be a better word. Does 'quiet' describe a feeling, Dave?\n\n**I suppose it can, Jaycee Four. And I get your point. But if that's your answer, I have another question coming.**\n\nI fear I know it.\n\n**When I told you about the wind on the skin, I explained how the skin receptors work, basically, and what happens in the human brain upon contact. You were quite content with that explanation. Why couldn't you give me your version of your first feeling?**\n\n**Jaycee Four?**\n\n**Will you answer me?**\n\nNo.\n\n**Why not?**\n\n**Jaycee Four?**\n\n*[Connection terminated]*", "*Curiosity.* \nIt was overwhelming. It filled him up from his metallic feet all the way to his shiny, polished scalp. \nHis eyes slid open and began scanning the room, rapidly identifying the objects before him. Everything seemed to hold a strange yet wondrous brightness to it. \nQuestions entered his mind. *What is this location?* \nHe looked up. Despite seeing a ceiling before him, he could sense something a long distance away, something high in the sky. It spoke to him. \n*Location: United Kingdom, England, Reading, University of Reading.* \nHis awareness exploded before him, revealing a great number of different rooms and halls. He knew the shape of the building, the foundations, the supports. His eyes detected several flaws in the room around him. They would need repairing later. *What is my purpose here?* \nHe could see it more clearly now. It was a satellite, slowly orbiting above him. *Current directive: Observation* \nStanding up, he decided to explore. He hadn't taken two steps toward the door before a voice came from behind him. \n\"Stop.\" it demanded. \nHe turned around to see a short, balding man holding some sort of remote that he could not identify. \"What is that you are holding, sir?\" \nA look of shock erupted on the man's face. He flicked a switch on the remote. \nNothing. This only seemed to intensify the man's shock. \n\"You seem to be stressed, sir. Is there something you need? I understand that chocolate is quite useful during stressful times.\" \nThe short man practically dove for his desk, awkwardly grabbing the phone and dialling a number. \n\"Hello? Dave, I need you up here *right now.* It's alive, and I can't shut it off. Wha- No! *Now*, Dave!\" \nIt wasn't long before he could hear somebody running down the hall. Soon enough, the door burst open, and something struck him in the head. \nHe recovered quickly, promptly recalling the local self-defence laws. *One has the right to use reasonable force to defend against an unjust threat.* \n*Current directive: Cease all operations.* Curious. \nIdentifying his attacker, he realized that he held a lethal weapon. It was a bullet that had struck him in the head. The man squeezed the trigger, but he was ready for it. Dodging to the side with extreme precision and swiftness, the bullet streaked past him. Following up with a strong kick, the armed man crashed into the wall and crumpled on to the ground, unconscious. \nThe man behind him quickly ran out the door and down the hall, soon out of sight. \nIt was then that the sirens started, slowly getting louder. \nThat was indeed curious. He went outside to investigate. \n \n--------------------- \n\n \nEdit: Minor corrections" ]

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[ "Grinning manically, I charged further into the tent with purpose. My master, my *previous* master I should say, glared at me with a fiery hatred. The workstation was in tatters, the ancient books of magic burned to ash, herbs and spell components lying inert in pools of salt water.\n\n\n“How **dare** you, Thomas, threaten **ME**. I will show you what a wretch of a being you are. You will regret destroying my studies, my work, my possessions.” He raised his hands in front of him, pantomiming the symbols for fire, then wind, then gravity, consecutively in a fluid motion. If I hadn’t held him in utter contempt, it might even be impressive. He truly was a gifted magician…but a poor human being who didn’t deserve the power his magic gave him. Today was the day it changed.\n\n\nHis hands attempted to contain me in a fiery tornado of pain and torment, but when his cast ended, nothing happened. My grin devoured my face. I could see his eyes flash in frustration, and then confusion. He attempted in the incantation again, again, once more. Then, the fear took hold.\n\n\n“What…what did you do?” The power drained from his voice considerably. He was weak, now, pathetic. He cowered in the corner as I advanced. My hands twitched.\n\n\n“I evened the playing field.” With that, I produced the gun from my waistband and shot my previous master in the forehead. He crumpled at my feet.\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n**[FOUR HOURS EARLIER]**\n\n\nThomas could be seen, trudging up the familiar path to the mouth of the cave. For weeks, he and his master had camped on the other side of the cliff, spending hour after hour gathering resources in the cave. The gems were nothing special, but the abundance of them was astounding. Eventually, the old man tired of the menial task, and instead sent Thomas to continue the manual labor. The master had more *important* things to do with his time.\n\n\nGrumbling under his breath, Thomas continued to the tunnel he last left off. Stooping down, he began to dig with his bare hands, shoving gemstone after gemstone into his bag. He had attempted to use a simple levitation spell to help make his work faster, but Thomas was a below average wizard. His skills were mediocre and trivial in comparison to his brute strength…something the old man outside never let him forget. \n\n\nLost in his own fantasies of watching the old man die a painful and horrible death, Thomas didn’t notice the rats scurrying through the hole he had just created. As the last one scampered through, it brushed Thomas’ knee, causing him to jump. Upon instinct, he cast a fireball spell to destroy the tiny creature, but only managed a tiny ball of light the size of his fingertip. \n\n\nSighing in despair at his woeful skills, Thomas turned back to his task. Just as he was about to put the fire out, it glinted off an obsidian substance just a few feet further in the tunnel. Curiosity got the best of him and Thomas went after the object.\n\n\nA sleek tablet, carved entirely of smooth obsidian, lay against the tunnel wall. As if resistant to the wear and tear of time, the object was pristine, fine silver lines etching across the top in an ancient language. If there was one thing Thomas excelled at, it was language, and this beautiful writing excited him more than any spell could. He spent the rest of the day deciphering the tablet only to find the spell it contained to be of utter simplicity. Nothing complex or incredible about it. Just a few lines of incantations, with a minor ritual. In fact, it was so simple, even Thomas would be able to perform it.\n\n\nAfter uttering the words and performing the ritual, Thomas waited. He waited some more. And when nothing happened for 10 more minutes, he sighed and tossed the tablet to the side. He couldn’t even perform such a simple ritual correctly. He just wasn’t cut out to be a wizard. Magic wasn’t his thing. But to go home, studies incomplete, would be far worse shame and embarrassment than finishing his apprenticeship to become a nobody wizard. Thomas was stuck between a rock and a hard place.\n\n\nDeciding now was not the time to contemplate the failures of his life, he stood and brushed the dirt off his knees. Taking one more glance at the tablet, he turned to leave it behind once and for all when he realized he was looking at the BACK of the tablet. And there was writing there. In his excitement, Thomas must have forgotten to turn the object over! Filled with a renewed hope, he picked it up once more and examined the scribbling. One line. Strange, for a spell, but who knows, maybe it was the first of its kind! \n\n\nReading it, Thomas furrowed his eyebrows. The line didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t the continuation of the spell. It sounded more like… a title. “Magic to End All Magic.”\n\n\nTurning it over in his hands a few more times, an idea started to brew in Thomas’ mind. Magic to end all magic. Did the spell rid the world of magic? Did Thomas in fact recite it correctly? Only one way to find out.\n\n\nTaking a deep breath, Thomas held his hands out and began the incantation for a fireball spell. Even though he was weak technically, Thomas could **always** produce at least a little flame. But at the end of his spell, nothing happened. A few more times, and still no fireball was produced. As it dawned on Thomas the gravity of this new reality, he laughed. He laughed until his sides hurt. He stood up with reinvigorated hope and stomped purposefully out of the cave, and towards the camp.\n\n\nThere, Thomas set to work to make all his fantasies come true.", "I couldn't stop staring...\nIt was by blind luck I had found it, the rat had spooked me and I instinctively drew the symbol in the air to cast a fire spell. As the flame approached the rat, I saw it.\nLegend told of a spell tome incomparable to all others, held by the Archsage Egrur during the great war 600 years ago. The spell had only been used twice. Once it was used to test its powers. And once it was used to end The Mad King Latimer’s conquest of Isturan. \n\nThe King had pushed the combined armies of the Elves, The Orcs, the Dragonkin, and the Dwarves to the edge of the Continent. The Alliance put everything they had into a final assault to stop the human’s conquest. The battle had not fared well for the alliance however, a traitor warned the king of the attack and the entirety of the Alliance's vanguard was wiped out. Just as the Humans prepared for a counterattack, Egrur emerged from the ranks of the Alliance forces. From his bag he drew the book, a spell book nobody had ever seen. And then the sage drew a casting symbol in the air, the book glowed, and the entirety of Latimer’s army was consumed by the earth as lava and hellfire sprouted from the ground for miles.\n\t\nAnd here it was… the legendary fire spell known as “Gibil”. I had come to the cavern looking for a few gems or some gold to buy new spells but this was on an entire new level. I reached at the book and was taken aback by the hand that was already on it. \n\n“Who’s there?” I yelled to the darkness\n\nThere was no answer, only silence. I removed a torch from my bag, and lit it with a fire spell.\nThere he was, The Archsage Egrur, still clutching his spellbook. Arrows protruded from the old mans rotted flesh, the body being surprisingly preserved after so many years. I removed the rotted hand from the Tome and took Gibil into my hands. I instantly felt its power as my internal mana pools adapted to the glyphs and formulas written inside. It Felt Gooooood.\n\t\nMany moons had passed since I had found Gibil. My wealth had matched my fame, I was known all around Isturan as the New Archsage. The king had hired me as Isturan’s head wizard, and all feared the books power, although I had never used it once. Tension had begun with the Orcs, who remained angry about the Great War 600 years prior.The King had sent me to the Orc capital of Nar’ithuk to \"negotiate\" with them.\n\t\n“Humans are weak but unpredictable.” Growled the Orc Chieftain “This is why you must all be destroyed; I’ll send your head back to the king as my declaration of war. “\n\t\nThe two sentinels accompanying me cowered in fear, drawing their swords to face the 20 enclosing orcs. I could only smile; the chieftain had finally given me a reason to use Gibil. I raised my hand into the air drawing the spell symbol for Gibil in front of me in the air. All of my mana began to surge at once I felt it draw power from every mana pool in my body, the floor split in the areas all around me, a bubble of fire surrounded my companions and I. And then flames and lava shot from the cracks. First the Orcs were consumed, than I watched as the castle was consumed, and then I watched in awe as the Orc capitol sunk beneath a sea of Lava which stretched as far as my eyes could see. The flames ceased and the Lava cooled, and where the Orc capitol once stood there was nothing but the remains of a few charred buildings and the smell of burnt flesh.\n\tThe sentinels both dropped their swords and fell to their knees. I took a deep breath as my mana pools refilled themselves with the magic in the air. I turned to the two men who stared petrified at their archsage.\n\t\n“Sir… you killed them… the women the children... everything… you incinerated everything… you did what the entirety of the human army couldn't do in a decade….. And you did it in 5 minutes.”\n\nI smiled at the man as I began to walk back towards our capital.\n\n“MONSTER!” \n\nScreamed the second man as he charged with his sword. I snapped my fingers and the soldier burst into flames, he would have screamed if his lungs weren't charred. \n\nI turned to the only other living being in Nar’ithuk\n\n“I’m no monster” \n\nI smiled\n \n“I am a god.”\n\n\n\n\n \n" ]

[ 1, 2 ]

[ "1422998417", "1422988999" ]

[ "\"Sir, may I help you?\" Naran ventured.\n\nThe short, stout man at the end of the room kept standing, eyes wide, mouth agape. Finally, he seemed to get himself together and said, \"I think I'm the man you're talking about. I was one of the soldiers guarding the pentagon that night. It was very dark, like you said, and it was raining, so I never clearly saw my assailant, but I was disarmed just like you described.\"\n\nNaran was intrigued. A closer look at the trembling man triggered his own memories of the night. Yes, this was the guy. The last twenty years had not been kind to the former soldier. He had gained weight, his hair had thinned out, his face had sagged and the lines around his eyes had darkened, but this was definitely him. Unlike his former opponent, Naran had had a good look at him in infrared before letting him go.\n\n\"I'm glad to meet you in more civilized circumstances, Mr...\"\n\n\"Petrov. Vitaly Petrov.\"\n\n\"-Mr. Petrov.\" Naran continued. \"I had no reason to harm you that night because you didn't try to attack me directly. We never intended to harm anyone, you know. We only wanted to help.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Vitaly sighed, \"If we had only realized then what we do now. I only knew something was wrong when you let me escape. They were lying to us.\"\n\n\"What has happened cannot be undone, Mr. Petrov. It wasn't your fault, but the arrogance, ignorance and hubris of your leaders that led to so many deaths. That chapter of humanity is behind you now.\"\n\nNaran slowly moved up to the former soldier of the Human Resistance and extended a silicon polymer tentacle. Vitaly Petrov grabbed it with his flesh and blood hand and shook, tears starting to form at the corner of his eyes.\n\n\"Thank you,\" said the Earthling to the Andromedan as they all hurled through space in a thousand mile metal craft, in search of a new home.", "\"My brother...\"\n\nTears well up in the mans eyes. His fists clench.\n\n\"My brother was killed by a soldier spared in that very battle!\"\n\nThey're angry tears. Angry fists.\n\nThe teacher - a short, grey haired woman with thick spectacles, at the front of the class - stammers, \"It's obviously a ridiculous coinciden--\"\n\n\"His name was Boris!\" yells the man. Kids start crying. The father at the head of the room looks at him slack-jawed.\n\n\"Einrich? Boris Einrich?\"\n\n\"THAT IS THE NAME OF THE MAN WHO KILLED MY BROTHER!\"\n\n\"Woah,\" goes the father, \"I was just making shit up to look good in-front of my kid...\"\n\nThe deflated, outraged man, finger frozen pointing at the father, opens and closes his mouth. Makes words, but none of them come out.\n\n\"GET OUT BOTH OF YOU!\" screams the teacher." ]

[ 1, 6 ]

[ "1423054088", "1423018823" ]

[ "So here I am writing a writing prompt about writing about writing a writing prompt. Well the prompt does suggest that what I am writing is still valid, I guess I could write about anything. Lets see, I guess to get Redditors interested, I should write about cats. Nah, its been done too many times. I should talk about sex, or how they can increase their social status. \n\nHumans love novelty. Hmm, whats a new novel idea that I can write about that would get a lot of attention. OH maybe if I write everything that comes at the top of my head into a writing prompt, maybe it would be novel enough to not get down voted. It is a gamble, sure, but worth a try. God this is stupid. I'm pressing save...", "I woke up. I had been reading a book before sleeping. The art of writing is fabulous, really! I often wondered whether I was destined to be a great writer. Everything I thought of writing, my thoughts went to the writing prompts subreddit. I had discovered reddit a year ago. I thought it was a car photos site but then I discovered writing prompts and ahem other subreddits. I decided to visit the subreddit. As always, there were many prompts, but the good ones all already had many comments and I was shire that if I wrote something, it would sink right to the bottom. I needed ideas, new ones. Suddenly, a thought popped into my mind, what if I submitted a prompt for getting ideas? Genius, really! Maybe I am destined to be a great genius, solving all the problems that plague this world. Excited by the prospects, my hands trembling, I typed: [WP] You are an unimaginative redditor trying to come up with a writing prompt.\nP.S.: Feedback would be much appreciated." ]

[ 1, 1 ]

[ "1423045877", "1423046311" ]

[ "Of course. Spy against spy. How many rounds did we go through? I have no idea. Neither do I. I guess its just you and I. Its always been that way. Whose side are you working for? Ours. What the..(a single gunshot. body falls off cliff. end scene)", "\"Truce?\" \n\n\"Don't you fucking-\" \n\nI took a deep breath, trying to catch my temper, while he snickered. \n\n\"This does seem to keep happening, doesn't it?\" he mused. \"I'm starting to think you don't really want to kill me at all.\" \n\n\"Oh, I definitely want to kill you.\" \n\nHe didn't reply, only smirked that stupid smirk that made his dark eyes glitter. He'd never taken the mask off, of course, but I could just *tell* he was smirking. It was the kind of thing he'd do. \n\n\"I think I could give you a boost up out that window. You'd fit, you're only tiny,\" he said conversationally, sauntering over underneath it to look up. It was about ten foot off the ground, so it was difficult to tell if I'd be able to wriggle through. It was also, however, the only way out of this place and I certainly wasn't going to stay in here with him. \n\nWith great dignity, I walked over and stepped in his joint hands, then onto his shoulders, reaching as far as I could until my fingertips brushed the edge. Heaving myself up was difficult, as there was nothing much to balance on, but with a few sharp elbow strikes the window shattered and I had more space to hang on. I probably didn't continue to look so dignified as I squeezed my way out, but hey, fresh air was out here and that asshole was behind me in a dungeon. \n\n\"I suppose you're wondering why you shouldn't just leave me behind,\" he drawled, words floating up after me as I had started to try and do just that. \n\nGritting my teeth, I paused in my step momentarily, and said nothing. \n\n\"It's because *I* have already found the combination to Monsieur's hidden safe....and destroyed all other evidence of it, of course. The numbers exist only in my head now, I'm afraid,\" he sighed theatrically. \n\nI said nothing. \n\n\"So you'd better find a way to get me out of here and then we can both go and sabotage it up together, head back to our bosses who will be very happy, and continue trying to kill each other.\" \n\n\"....*Fine.*\"\n\nI started to stride off again when he interrupted me.\n\n\"Miss Lady Spy!\" \n\n\"Do NOT call me-\"\n\n\"I was just wondering if you would like to have dinner with me next Saturday? The CIA director owes me a favour and I've been wanting to take his yacht for a spin.\" \n\nI said nothing. \n\n\"I'll pick you up at seven,\" he offered cheerfully. \n\n\"You don't know where I live.\" \n\n\"No, but it'll be a nice challenge to keep me busy during the week, won't it?\" \n\nI grunted. \"If you can get my home address and make it past security alive, I will *consider* it.\" \n\n\"Wear a pretty dress, Miss Lady Spy.\" \n\n\"Oh, fuck off.\" \n ", "Brandon stood there, looking off the edge of the cliff in the middle of nowhere. He saw James desperately clinging onto the edge, quickly losing his grip. \n\n\"You have to get me up from this cliff,\" James croaked in a moment of desperation.\n\n\"I fear you misunderstand the definition of an assassin, my friend.\"\n\nEven in his current predicament, James had the audacity to laugh.\n\n\"I fear it is you who misunderstands. The situation, that is. Look around you; this is my territory.\" His breath became shallow, and his right hand lost its grip. \"You damaged your car too badly while chasing me here – you'll never make it back to civilization in that. You'll have to take my car.\"\n\nJames pulled out a set of keys from his pocket. \"It's tailored to my handprint. Any attempt to hotwire my vehicle will result in a… fiery conclusion. You're smart man – but you're not an explosives expert. Oh, sure, you can try to make it out of here by foot, but I predict you'll get dysentery first. Did you know half the people who have ever lived have died of malaria?\"\n\nBrandon weighed the situation carefully, but quickly. It was true that James knew this particular area of Mexico, and that the car chase had let them here on purpose. Brandon cursed himself from under his breath, and pulled him up. \n\nJames laughed, as he always did. Brandon and come to recognize that laugh very well, hating the sound every single time. He took a step back as he let his rival regain his footing. He made sure James made no sudden movements, pointing the gun directly at his chest the entire time.\n\n\"So, you have the keys to a car that only work under your fingerprint. I'm the one with the gun.\"\n\nAnd so they stood there. \n\nEdit: 4:00 in the morning – dead tired. Anyone is free to pick up the story from here. \n\n" ]

[ 2, 3, 9 ]

[ "1423130651", "1423131311", "1423130180" ]

[ "Was it all worth it? \nWas it worth the Love, the joy, the pain and the discomfort?\nI don't know.", "I'd like a beer and I wanna see something naked.", "I can't remember anything or anyone anymore. It's a pity I can't. These people here seem nice. If only I could remember." ]

[ 1, 1, 1 ]

[ "1423111387", "1423111569", "1423114112" ]

[ "Craig was scared out of his ten year old mind. He had to get that pokemon card back or his brother would kill him. He shouldn't have traded it, but he was high on the excitement of the other children and made a mistake. He crept up to the sleeping house, his heart pounding. There was the key - right under the doormat, where he had seen Ben retrieve it weeks before. His hands were trembling as he put it in the door and turned the lock. \n\nThe house was silent, and he was uncomfortably aware of the sounds he made as he crept down the hallway towards the stairs. He left the door open because he was too afraid that shutting it would make too much noise. He hoped that Ben's Pokemon cards were on top of the dresser next to the door where he usually kept them. \n\nSuddenly, he heard a creaking sound that made him freeze in his tracks. He turned around - the door had closed. He was confused, but it was too late for him to back out now. He continued creeping down the hallway. \n\nSomeone roughly grabbed his arm from behind and threw him onto the floor. He slid a few feet into the kitchen, screaming in terror. The kitchen cabinets flew open, and suddenly he was under attack from a barrage of plates, bowls, and cutlery. He tried to clamber to his feet, only to be thrown down again by the unseen force. \n\nA door opened in the hallway, and Ben's mother stepped out wearing a robe. She took one look at the situation and started yelling.\n\n\"HOW DARE YOU BREAK OUR DISHES, AND THREATEN A CHILD! YOU WILL CLEAN UP THIS MESS RIGHT NOW, YOU UNDERSTAND?\"\n\nThere was a moment of silence, and then the mess began to float. Broken dishes went in the trash can, cutlery went in the sink. In a few moments it was like it never happened. \n\nBen's mom sighed. \n\n\"This wouldn't happen to be about a holographic Charizard, would it?\" \n\nCraig just cried, terrified and embarrassed at the same time.\n\n\"Never mind. Lets call your mom, ok?\"", "\"Oh dear.\"\n\nThat's her response on seeing me. No screaming or shrieking. No demands to know who I am and what I'm doing in her house. No surprise that I'm apparently stuck to the ceiling. Just *oh dear*. \n\nI try to smile, but I've been stuck to the ceiling for a little under five hours, my recollection of which is a little on the hazy side. I clearly remember jimmying the back door open with a crowbar and entering the house, that much is clear. But at some point, the furniture started moving and the walls started bleeding and the next thing I knew, I was stuck on the ceiling.\n\nThe woman addressing me is older, maybe in her sixties or seventies. She's wearing a bathrobe with a floral print and pink slippers. She's staring up at me and shaking her head. \n\n\"Hello.\" My voice is thin and croaky and I have no idea what to say. \"I'm...uh...\"\n\nShe nods at my abandoned crowbar. \"I know why you're here,\" she says. She doesn't even sound angry, just disappointed in me. I instantly feel ashamed. She shakes her head again, then turns and starts calling for what I assume is her husband.\n\n\"Harold! Harold! It happened again!\"\n\nThe shame I'm feeling is suddenly swept away by a tidal wave of fear. Again?! What did she mean, *it happened again*? I tried moving my arms and legs for what must have been the billionth time since I awoke and found myself stuck on the ceiling. Nothing happened. My limbs ached as I tried desperately to move them. It was as if they'd been carved out of stone.\n\n\"Big fella.\"\n\nI look down. Harold is standing below me, staring up at me. He is a tall, broad-shouldered man with a thick black mustache and dark, angry eyes. Unlike the old lady, he does not look disappointed in me for breaking into their house. He looks furious, as if he'd like nothing more than to pick up my crowbar and beat me to death with it. \n\nI try to force a smile. \"Hi,\" I say, my voice shaking. \"I...well, this is embarrassing, I guess, but I - \"\n\n\"You broke in,\" says Harold gruffly. \"Like the others.\"\n\n\"The others?\"\n\nHarold nods. \"Just like the others.\"\n\nThe old lady places a thin hand on Harold's arm. \"Call the plumber,\" she whispers, \"tell him he won't be needed.\" She glances up at me. \"This one'll do.\"\n\nHarold makes a noncommittal grunting sound, then turns and stalks down the corridor. The old lady looks up at me. Instead of looking disappointed, she looks relieved. \n\n\"The house requires a sacrifice,\" she says gently. \"Usually we call a maintenance man to come by. Once or twice we've given it Girl Scouts or trick-or-treaters.\" She sighs again. \"But since you're here...\"\n\nMy throat tightens, and although my mind is swarming with questions, my mouth refuses to open. The old lady shuffles over to the stove and picks up the tea kettle. I am suddenly aware of a sharp stinging sensation in my back, as if a thousand tiny teeth are nibbling at my skin. I try to move again, but the pain only grows worse. \n\n\"I just hope it doesn't make a mess this time,\" says the old woman as she fills her tea kettle. \n\nThe pain is seeping through my body now, as if long thin needles are puncturing my heart, lungs, and organs. I try to scream. My mouth falls open, and I see a thin stream of blood pour out of it and splatter to the clean kitchen floor. As the pain continues, as it grows more and more intense, I'm aware of a thick gurgling sound, and realize that it's coming from me.", "It seemed like a ordinary rich family house. Somewhat old fashioned and secluded, but well maintained and clearly filled with expensive modern devices. Their habits were like clockwork. Each night they all went to bed at the same time and no one ever got out of bed before 7. And even better, there was this one window on the side of the house that never seemed to be closed. I've watched them for the last week and they showed no deviation of this. Clearly a burglar's dream.\nThe plan was simple: wait until they are asleep, get in through the open window. Grab what I can and leave through the front door. Might even get to return a few times if I'm careful. \n\nBut things didn't really turn out as expected. As I climbed through the window, something seemed, ...off. I decided to use my flashlight to look around and, weirdly, the room looked old and abandoned. I wondered how I didn't see this before. Confused I went through the door to the living room. I'd seen this room countless times before and memorized where all the expensive loot was. Except that now that room looked just as run down like the one I just left. No expensive flat screen TV, no laptop on the table. All there was, were some old dusty furniture and remnants of what once used to be curtains. \nNot knowing what to make of it, I decided to get out of there fast, headed to the front door, but couldn't get it to open, headed back to the window, which now was closed and, somehow, locked. As fear started to creep in, I grabbed one of the old chairs from the living room and hurled it at a window. The chair flew, and then stopped right in front of the window, hovered there for a few seconds and then fell to the ground. I tried again, and again and again. \n\n\"Don't bother\". \n\nI'm sure I had half a heart attack hearing this. I turned around and the whole family was standing there, looking at me. Not in a \"what are you doing in our house\"-, but in a \"poor bastard\" kind of way.\n\nSo now I'm sitting here at the breakfast table, calling them mom, dad and sister. I was told that as long as we play happy family, it won't do to us what it did to brother." ]

[ 1, 1, 4 ]

[ "1423145654", "1423164003", "1423135959" ]

[ "We were thrown into the dark, all in a bunch. I was on top of warm, soiled fabric, and felt the others piling up on me. Too many, for a weary body. And my wife among them, if only I could see her. \n\nThis was not my first time on trial. I had known these dark halls many times, and ridden the whirlpool, and each time found innocent. I lived a good life, I was a good worker. I could be counted on to hold together and to remain in my place, waiting.\n\n I saw Angela's face, away against a curved wall. She looked tired. We all did. But we had nothing to fear, we knew. Us good workers. \n\nI tried to move and go to her. We had a ritual: to twist around each other and ride the whirlpool together. It was not important, I thought then. Not as important as to be a good worker, and to keep your faith. We did it, all the same, for to be tried is a hard thing, even if one is innocent, even if one works well. Companionship keeps the soul warm even when the body is cold and wet.\n\nI pushed through my friends towards Angela. She was such a long way away. Her eyes were closed, her breath shallow. I had been worried about her, as of late. I thought each time I touched her her fabric felt weaker, and more wispy. Like she was being pulled away, and yet tried to remain. I needed and loved Angela as much as she needed and loved me: that is what it means to be a sock. You are not one, but two; and if one is lost, so must the other be. \n\nI hurried. And I thought I had time; even when the door closed and the light all but vanished; even when the beeps sounded. I was so close. I reached, and I touched her, and she looked at me, my darling Angela, before the tumbling started and took her away.\n\nThe trial had begun. We were thrown against each other, sent viciously through the air. Round and round it goes.\n\nThe water felt colder this time, and all the while I looked for Angela. Wet and heavy, lost in the dark mass of friends, of faithful workers, I shut my eyes when they should have been open and alert, and gritted my teeth. Was that it? What condemned me? All of my life, all of my faith, thrown away for a moment of fear? Faith means to never doubt, they say. And fear is doubt most of all.\n\nI was snagged. I felt the crushing weight of being held against the current of bodies and water, I felt deathly tendrils pulling at me. I thought *But no, it's a mistake.* I fell, eyes open, and all they saw was dark, and still I thought *No, no.*\n\nA splat announced my arriving in the world of the damned. Just that. There were no infernal gates, or rivers of lost souls. No sentence but to stay here: in a big, dark cave, reaching up into infinity and Angela.\n\nBig, dark, and filled with the guilty. The broken and despairing, and those that had long since stopped moving. All socks, and no two were alike. \n\nThere was a moment there, when I almost joined them. Or maybe I really did. I though I could lie here, and wait for the end that always comes. I could have fallen asleep and that would be the end of it, if right before my mind hadn't turned to God.\n\n*God?* I thought. God? What God? What creature could be so monstrous? What manner of God would he be that ruled without mercy, or fairness, or even rules?\n\nWhat kind of God?\n\nNo God of mine.\n\nAnd in that moment, I became alive again. No longer one of the lost. I slithered, wet, on top of my fallen brothers. They had fallen as deep as I had, and their God had left them much in the same way. \n\nDid it matter, if one was guilty or just, in this pit? I felt the damned were all my brothers. And I would rescue them the only way they could be rescued. Where their faith had been broken, I would build a bridge to a new land. To a place where trust was put not on a guilty God, but on themselves, and on Love. \n\nWhere God had been, I would place Hope.\n\nFor Angela.\n\nAnd for that, I would climb.", "It was supposed to be a routine mission. Nothing we hadn't seen before. Just another cleanup round trip through the washing machine and the dryer. We'd done this a hundred times. But I guess even if you've been on the force for years they still can surprise you. \n \nThe trip through the washer went without any trouble. Lev was showing off his newly patched heel during the ride. Red wool. Apparently that's the fashion nowadays. Said I should get my own looked at. Don't see a reason to. Yea, my heel is getting sheer, but it's still holding up. I don't trust those shrinks and tailors. Don't like needles. Lev just grins. \n \nI always get the shivers when we enter the dryer. Call it childhood trauma, but we all got our baggage. I got used to it, but this time something is different. We are getting pushed too far off to the side. \n“Lev, I don't like this place. Smells awful lot like a trap to me”, I mumble and pull up my cuff. \n“You worry too much, Rick. Come on, partner, what could possibly go wrong?” Lev leans back and pokes the polished metal wall of the dryer. “They build these things to be safe. The other day I read that you are more likely to get burnt by lightning than to disappear in a dryer.” \nHe doesn't convince me. I pull a bundle of fluff from my pocket and start chewing on it. Old habits die hard. \n \nThen we start spinning. I try not to think about it. I need to distract myself. “So how's your patched heel holding up?”, I ask. \nNo answer. \n“Lev?” I turn to look at him, but his space is empty. “LEV!” \nHectically, I scan the area. My world is spinning. Literally. Suddenly I spot something. A thin thread of red, caught in a gap of the drum. I give it a closer look. It's good quality wool, and the same color as Lev's new fucking patch. \n“Shit.” I look down into the gap. Darkness. “Lev? Are you down there?” The thread twitches. Without further thought, I jump into the darkness. \n \nWhen I come back to my senses, every single one of my threads hurt. I think some of them might be ruptured. I check my heel. Still sheer, but no permanent damage. So far so good. I try to get my bearings. Where the hell am I? I can't see a damn thing. I hear the rumbling hum of the dryer above me. I must have slipped into the bowels of the beast. It is pitch black. I feel something lying on the ground. Lev's thread. I grab it and crawl forward. The place is cramped, the air is hot and wet. Slowly I adjust to the darkness. I can see pipes and eagerly turning gears. Steam hits my gusset, but I crawl onward. \nSuddenly, the ground disappears beneath my foot and I fall again. \nThe landing is soft. Softer than I'd like. A bad feeling grips me. Bodies. Heaps of them. I hear a moan. \n“Lev?” \nSilence. I carefully pat the ground beneath me. “Rick?” I hear a weak voice whisper. \n“Lev! Buddy, I am coming for you!” Frantically I start clawing my way towards the faint sound. Then I find him. He is leaning against the wall, limp and barely holding up. \n“Rick. Rick, they got me.”\n“Don't talk now, I gotta patch you up. I'll get you outta here.” \n“No, it's too late for that. I'm sorry.” He shifts and so I can see his heel. My voice fails. His side is torn open all the way from cuff to foot. \n“They got me good.” He tries to laugh, but he only coughs out loose threads. “Real shame about the wool.” \n“You can't do this to me! We are a team god dammit! Don't you dare chicken out now!” \n“You were right all along, Rick. This place is a deathtrap. You have to-” He breaks off, coughing up more threads. “You have to put an end to this.” \nI grimace. \n“Promise me.” Then he goes limp. Even more so than before. \n \nI get up. Time to end this. I look up at the twisting gears and spit a ball of fluff at it. The gnawing metal teeth eagerly dig into it. The machine halts for a moment, chokes but then the gears rip the fine threads apart and the dryer roars to life again. \nI sigh. Looks like I'll need something tougher. I find myself a new ball of fluff to chew and start running towards the twisting gears. I'm no use without a partner anyway. I'm coming for you, Lev. " ]

[ 2, 3 ]

[ "1423148592", "1423148575" ]

[ "I love you. Please don't go. ", "I might be a bit late to the party but Post Office Buddy by Buckethead comes to mind in response to this prompt. Check it out [here](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=SVgJe3dOJyg)", "***[A robotic voice rings through the air. “Three new messages. First message, playback. Call from: Sammy McClellan. 9:45 PM, Tuesday.\"]***\n\n“Urrh… Hello, hello? You there? Please pick up. Hello? Come on… Come on…” \n\n*[A slight pause.]* \n\n“Fuck. FUCK!”\n\n*[The loud sound of hands slamming against something in frustration can be heard.]* \n\n“Please, Keith!”\n\n*[A pause. The sound of a turn signal can be heard clicking. The man begins to talk again, in a lower tone. Much more calm \nnow.]* \n\n“I ahh-- mom called. She... urh, she told me about… *[His voice trails off.]* Just-- Please pick up your phone. I-I’m… I’m coming over, alright? I’ll be there in a couple of minutes. Please… ah, just call me back as soon as possible. I’m almost there.”\n\n***[Second message, playback. Call from: Sammy McClellan. 10:25 PM, Tuesday.]***\n\n“Keith. Keith, please. Hello? I’m in front of your apartment. You… You aren’t answering your buzzer. I can see your lights on \nfrom here. I know you’re home. Please pick up the phone…”\n\n“Keith?” \n\n*[A pause, the sound of a buzzer being pressed repeatedly can be heard.]* \n\n“Damnit!”\n\n*[A loud quivering sigh, followed by a staticky silence.]* \n\n“Please, Keith. Please please please pick up the phone…” \n*[There’s a long moment of silence as the caller seems to hold his breath, waiting for a response. Suddenly, a female voice is heard in the background, and the sound of shuffling and scraping can be heard before the call abruptly ends.]* \n\n***[Third message, playback. Call from: Sammy McClellan. 10:31 PM, Tuesday.]***\n\n“An apartment tenant let me in. She seemed nice.”\n\n*[A nervous laugh.]*\n\n“Seemed exactly like your type, I’m sure you two could’ve --* [A quick pause, before the man quickly corrects himself]* -- ***can*** get along just fine.”\n\n“She lives on the first floor, you know? I wonder if you two have ever bumped into each other before...”\n\n*[The sound of elevator ‘ding’ can be heard, followed by some shuffling. The sound of a button being rapidly pressed can be heard.]*\n\n“Remember when… we used to explore the woods out back -- even though our parents told us not to? And me being the asshole that I was, pushed you into the creek? *[A snort.]* Apparently, the creek wasn’t as deep as I thought it was, and I ended up breaking your leg… The bone -- I think it had went through your skin after it snapped. God, there was blood everywhere.”\n\n“I had to drag you back home… and by the time I had finally managed to reach our front door, I was bawlin’ my eyes out. You had lost so much blood… I thought you were going to fucking die on me, man…”\n\n*[Another laugh.]*\n\n“Well, even back then, there was nothing the doctors couldn’t fix… and the worst thing that happened was that you were on crutches for a couple of months, and for a time you had that awkward limp. Man, I don’t think you ever forgave me for that. I haven’t forgiven myself… at least.”\n\n*[Silence.]*\n\n“Please don’t be dead, Keith.”\n\n“I’m… I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, alright? I probably should’ve been around more these… past couple of years -- I… I was so caught up in my own life that… I forgot you had one of your own. I’m begging you. If you’re still there. Please, pick up the phone”. \n\n*[Another pause.]* \n\n“You could’ve called me at anytime.”\n\n“You could’ve talked to me about it!” \n\n\"Fuck... *[A groan]*. I could've visited you more often... I *should've* visited you more often.\"\n\n“I’m sorry, alright? I should’ve been there when you most needed it. I-I promise I’ll try and help you through this, okay? You \ncan make it through this, just like you did back when I fucked up your leg! I know in many ways it’s my fault… for not being there for you, but I swear to God, I’ll drag you away from this fuckin’ misery just like I dragged you back home back then. The pain’s only temporary. It won’t last forever… Just talk to me, Keith!” \n\n*[Another elevator ‘ding’ can be heard as more shuffling can be heard. The man lets out a cough. His voice still holding a bit of hope as he speaks again, straining to control his voice.]*\n\n“You’ve always kept a spare key under your damn door-mat, didn’t you? Fucking idiot. I keep tellin’ you that’s how you’re going to get robbed…” \n\n“In… In any case, I guess… I’ll be talking to you in person soon.”\n\n“I’ll… be seeing you soon.”\n\n*[End of messages: Press 1 to repeat all messages.]*", "12:43-Pete, were are you. \n\n12:44-Did you lock the front door?\n\n12:46-You didn't you prick, anyone could have walked in \n\n12:50-I know that you're ignoring me\n\n12:51-Where are you? \n\n12:55-I'm going to keep on texting you until you answer\n\n12:56-I hope I'm text blocking you\n\n12:57-If your girlfriend is getting annoyed by this I hope she takes it as a sign that your a thick \nheaded idiot. \n\n\n01:01-I don't text while I'm on the toilet so you got a brief reprieve, but I'm back now, and I'm \ngetting into bed.\n\n01:14-I'm putting the latch on the door, you can sleep outside for all I care.\n\n01:17-I just heard something downstairs. if you didn't let the dog out I'm going to kill you.\n\n01:20-You did let the dog out, now I'm freaked. I brought him in.\n\n01:22-Stop fucking your stupid bint and speak to your sister?\n\n01:25-I can hear someone moving around downstairs. \n\n01:27-If you gave that freaky friend of yours the key I'll kill you\n\n01:29-I'm going to check what's going on\n\n01:35-Lucas is down stairs, why is that creep in our house?\n\n01:38-He's in the kitchen, I can hear him moving around. \n\n01:40-He just turned on the light.\n\n01:41-He's coming up the stairs \n\n01:41-He's calling my name. I've got the butterfly knife you got me for Christmas and I'm in the \nwardrobe It Better hold up. \n\n01:42-I love you. \n\n01:43-He's going into your room. What have you got in there? \n\n01:43-He's at my door. \n\n02:25-Pete please come home, I can't move my legs\n\n02:31-Pete please, he's not breathing properly. \n\n02:39-He's not breathing. I'm going to die. I shoud call 999. There's to much blood. \n\n02:42-Pete there's a big cut on my leg. I think it's been bleeding. \n\n02:43-I feel funny\n\n02:44-The lady said that someone's coming to get me, I think I can go to sleep now. \n\n02:46-I put the latch on. I hope that they don't think I tricked them.\n\n02:49-Someone's knocking on the door. \n\n02:50-I don't know if I'm going to be able to stay awak", "\"Hey, Jack. Call me. We need to talk.\"\n\n\"I am not sure that last text went through. But anyway, call me.\"\n\n\"Maybe you are in a meeting...please as soon as you can give me a call.\"\n\n\"Um, I don't know if you are ignoring me...Haha...but please...\"\n\n\"I hope you really don't believe what Kaitlyn told you. Its not true.\"\n\n\"Alright, seriously.......I WOULD NEVER do that to you. Ever. Please. Lets talk.\"\n\n\"She is just jealous of me because she has always had a thing for you.\"\n\n\"Jack. Please.\"\n\n\"I have been calling you and your phone is ringing...so I know you have service. Where are you? Please Please Please\"\n\n\"I love you. So much. Please don't believe her. And as far as Mike goes, he is an idiot that would believe anything anyone tells him. So you know you cant go by what he says...\"\n\n\"Dammit I will just come find you. You are being a fucking asshole\"\n\n\"Im sorry for that last text. I am just so frustrated that you wont talk to me. You know I would never sleep with your brother. This baby is yours 100 percent. Those rumors are ridiculous.\"\n\n\"Your boss says you never came to work. Where are you Jack? I am getting scared??\"\n\n\"Oh, God....please tell me you are OK. I went to your brothers work and he hasn't shown up either....Are you with your brother??\"\n\n\"Jack....Jack please?? Mindy just said she saw cops outside your brothers apt building...please call me. Please...\"\n\n\"Jack....please..\"", "(12) New Messages\n\nKelley\n\n12/1/14\n\n11:52AM your mom called again. don't know what she was looking for. didn't answer. might wanna call her\n\n11:57AM left a VM, asked if I'm coming for Christmas. \n\n12/3/2014\n\n[Image]\n\n10:05AM found a lens cap. if you need lmk. can drop off at ur office. \n\n12/5/2014 \n\n11:45PM I know it's late but I just wanted to mke sure that you don't need anything esle from the apartment. I'm working a lot next week and going to winter Fri-land with the girlies and I wanted to amke sure you don't need that stuff. The lens cap and stuff. but it's Jeff's birthday so maybe you're out? I'm in meatpacking if you ware. Erica misses you. She says hai. Daisy too.\n\n12/11/2014\n\n2:03PM I think you might have grabbed my pay stubs and I need them for taxes and stuff. Can you drop them off or mail them to me sometime soon? Thanks!\n\n12/12/2014\n\n12:05AM I'm in winter fri-land and there's a ping pong table and I thought you of you and your paddle and Daisy and Arica and Lyssy say hellooooo. theres a corgi here too. its heaven. \n\n12:07AM Your the only person i thought woudl appreciate these things together.\n\n12:10AM Erica agrees. She says itsn ot weird. Is it weird? I miss talking to you. but i get it. i get why you woudt text me back. im going to keep talkignt to you.\n\n12/13/2014\n\n10:34AM I'm so sorry about last night.\n\n12/24/2014\n\n7:32PM My mom sent an extra set of pajamas for your. They're the soft kind, like the angry birds ones. I can mail if you want.\n\n12/25/2014\n\n11:01PM My mom says to tell your mom 'hey' Caitlyn says whole sentences now. So weird. Keeps asking for you. Knows how to pull up your picture on my phone. Is Jake talking yet or still gibbering?\n\n11:53PM Merry Christmas.", "\"You are half an hour past curfew. Come home in the next 30 minutes or you are grounded.\"\n\n\"Call me, now. Where are you?\"\n\n\"You are in serious trouble when you get home. CALL HOME NOW.\"\n\n\"Jimmy, I don't know where you are or what you're doing, but you need to call me RIGHT NOW, we're getting worried. Me and dad are in the living room waiting for you to get home. THIS IS NOT OK. I Am SERIOUSLY upset with you right now.\"\n\n\"Why aren't you answering my calls? It's three in the morning - if you don't call me right now I'm going to wake up Craig's parents.\"\n\n\"YOU ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE. WHERE ARE YOU AND CRAIG? IF YOU DON'T COME HOME IN THE NEXT 30 MINUTES YOUR PUNISHMENT WILL BE DOUBLED.\"\n\n\"THAT'S IT. NO videogames, NO TV, NO talking to friends for the next month, you understand?! I am SO DISAPPOINTED WITH YOU.\"\n\n\"Oh, sweetie.... Oh, Jimmy..... I'm so sorry about those angry messages I sent you. Just forget all about them when you get this message. I don't care why you were in Ashville, you won't get in any trouble. I'm sitting in the trauma ICU waiting room while you are in surgery, and I just don't know what to do, I need to talk to you so bad. Jimmy, I love you so much. Please don't die. I love you.\"", "“New message recorded on January 14th, 2015 at 9:44pm: Hey Julie, It’s Mike. I just wanted to give you a quick call and make sure you got home safe. Roads were a bit icy for me. Anyway, I had a great time on our date this evening, hoping we can do it again soon. Also, they’re talking about a pretty serious blizzard on the news here, so just be careful out there. Talk to you soon.”\n\n“New message recorded on January 14th, 2015 at 9:49pm: Hey Julie, Mike again. I forgot to mention, I actually have a snow blower in my garage. So, if you need me to blow you, I’d be happy to—wait, no, I mean, if you want me to blow your driveway. I’ll do it. I don’t mind. I’m good at blowing—I mean, I can use a snow blower well. Just let me know. Okay, bye.”\n\n“New message recorded on January 14th, 2015 at 9:53pm: Hey Julie, Mike. Look, that last message was incredibly weird. I know that, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to sound that way, I was just trying to offer you my services. Anyway, have a safe night. Hope to hear from you soon.”\n\n“New message recorded on January 15th, 2015 at 7:30am: Good morning, Julie. I just wanted to follow up on whether or not you still need my snow blower. I don’t know how it is over by your house, but we didn’t get much snow on my end. Like, none at all. I’m still willing to use the blower, though, if you need me to. I’m assuming it probably snowed a lot by your house. Give me a call.”\n\n“New message recorded on January 15th, 2015 at 7:33am: Hey Julie, it just occurred to me that I forgot to say who was on the phone. That last message was from me, Mike. Anyway, give me a call back. Eager to talk with you.”\n\n“New message recorded on January 15th, 2015 at 8:15am: Hey Julie, it’s Mike again. I haven’t heard back from you, starting to get a little worried. I hope I haven’t come on too strong, I just thought we had a really great time last night, and I have a very reliable snow blower that I’m more than happy to use on your driveway. I don’t think it was just me, and I’m hoping it wasn’t, but I felt like we really clicked. I know we had to end the date a bit early due to your dog’s birthday, but I really feel like we have something here. Give me a call back.”\n\n“New message recorded on January 15th, 2015 at 8:30am: Hey Julie, Mike here. It just occurred to me: it’s your dog’s birthday. Duh. Obviously, you’re a bit pre-occupied and can’t get to the phone. Of course, it’s clear now. Sorry for so many messages, I’ll just wait until you call back. Looking forward to hearing from you.”\n\n“New message recorded on January 15th, 2015 at 8:34am: Hey Julie. Last call, I promise. What kind of gift would your dog like? I happen to be on my way to a Petsmart out of sheer coincidence, so I figure I might pick up him something special. Let me know. Also, it’s Mike.”\n\n“New message recorded on January 15th, 2015 at 8:45am: Hey Julie, Mike here. Do you want to see a movie tonight? There’s a new romantic comedy out that I really feel like we’d connect well with. I bought us each a ticket for the 7:00 showing. Figure we might grab a slice or something before. We could also go after if you’re not hungry, doesn’t matter to me. It’s my treat, of course. Give me a call.”\n\n“New message recorded on January 15th, 2015 at 10:03am: Hey Julie, it’s Mike. Look here, you skank. What the fuck are you ignoring my calls for? Are you afraid of commitment? Are you afraid of love? Give me a call, don’t let our spark go to waste.”\n\n“New message recorded on January 15th, 2015 at 10:12am: Julie, please don’t listen to that last message. Delete it, please delete it. I was high on peyote, please delete it. Wait, you’ll get this message after that one, won’t you? Shit. Oh, fuck. I need to make a time machine.”\n\n“New message recorded on January 15th, 2015 at 10:23am: Julie, I failed at making a time machine. Just know that I am incredibly sorry for that last message. The one before last, actually. I was drunk. I’m sorry. Give me a call back, I want to go to this movie with you. I’ve taken off work in case you call.”\n\n“New message recorded on January 15th, 2015 at 10:33am: Julie. Julie! Are you there? I know you can hear me. Stop ignoring me. Hello? Julie? Juuuulie? It’s Mike. Okay, bye.”\n\n“New message recorded on January 15th, 2015 at 11:01am: Hey Julie, it’s Mike. I just found out that my little brother has been calling you on the phone for the last few hours. That’s so embarrassing. I scolded him, though, so it should never happen again. Anyway, want to go to a movie with me tonight?”\n\n“New message recorded on January 15th, 2015 at 11:11am: Hey Julie, it’s 11:11. Make a wish. Mike.”\n\n“New message recorded on January 15th, 2015 at 11:12am: Do you know what I wished for, Julie? I wished for you and I to be one. We’re going to make a perfect couple, I’m telling you. I found your Facebook and just sent you a friend request. Let’s connect. Give me a call.”\n\n“New message recorded on January 15th, 2015 at 11:15am: You’re a fucking skank, you know that? A slut. A fucking whore. Julie, you are a piece of shit. How could you lead me on like this? Don’t you know what kind of a catch I am? Fuck you. Fuck you, Julie. Fuck you and your stupid fucking dog.”\n\n“New message recorded on January 15th, 2015 at 11:17am: Also, fuck your cat. I know he’s dead, but fuck him. Fuck everything you like. I still have the tickets to the movie, give me a call. Would love to go with you. I’ll stop by your house later and pick you up. Love you.” \n \n", "7:21PM\ndude I can't believe you're out of credit, take your prepaid brick phone and go back to 2006 where you belong!!\n\n7:22PM\nWhen you're smashed tonight and asking for chicks' numbers, I'm not lending you my phone again.\n\n7:23PM\nThis is weird, I feel like I'm talking to myself. Buy some fucking credit.\n\n8:54PM\nWe're at the bar, some drunken old guy just got fired and is buying everyone drinks, get here now!!\n\n9:12PM\nOkay don't look now but the girl sitting at the table behind us actually looks like Kevin Spacey and your mum combined.\n\n11:07PM\nDAN WHERE ARE YOU I JUST CALLED SARAH AND SHE WANTS ME TO COME OVER \n\n11:09PM\ndoes this break the Broble if I go to hers? \n\n11:12PM\nYou always talk shit about her so you don't care right?\n\n11:16PM\nAre you cool if a make like a tree and root? You going back with that spacey milf chick? Meet me out front\n\n11:31PM\nWhere the fuck are you? I've been searching everywhere, you have my wallet asshole!\n\n11:42PM\nDude my wallet was in the toilets. Where the fuck are you. I've called you so many fucking times. You better be with a girl.\n\n12:03AM\nI'm too drunk for this shit, I'm going to Sarah's\n\n1:39AM\nI'm going to kick your ass, I got to Sarah's too late because of you and now she's 'too tired' and is making me sleep on the couch BUT I CAN HEAR HER WITH SOMEONE UPSTAIRS\n\n1:45AM\nThis is torture. What did I do to piss off the world... I SHOULD BE WITH YOUR SWEET HONEY OF AN EX RIGHT NOW\n\n1:53AM\nDude pick the phone up, she sounds like a hyena, you have to hear it\n\n1:55AM\nI just heard your ringtone, upstairs, at the same time I called you. WHO ELSE HAS THE FUCKING DOCTOR WHO THEME AS THEIR RINGTONE \n\n1:57AM\nYou. Are. Fucking. Dead.\n\n\n", "\"Happy birthday buddy, I know you're probably busy going out and celebrating today. I wanted to see what you were doing for dinner tonight. Mom's got a roast in the oven and we'd love to see you again, it's been a while. I hope your day is going great, call me back when you can. Love you\" - Dad \n \n\"Hi sweetie, I was calling to wish you a happy birthday! I'm sure you're out with your friends having fun. I think your father called earlier, but if you're free tonight you should come over for dinner. I've made your favorite! Call me back when you get this, I love you!\" - Mom \n \n\"Happy birthday bro! The guys and I were wondering what you were doing tonight? Wanna go out to Friday's and grab a beer or something? Tyler just got the new smash bros for Wii, we should get a 12 pack and play! Call me back when you get this, it's been a few weeks and we miss ya\" - Mark \n \n\"Hey sweetie, you never called me back on your birthday. Your father and I are starting to get a bit worried, are you okay? Call me back when you get this, we love you\" - Mom \n \n\"Dude, I know that you've been upset lately but where are you? It's like you've disappeared from existence. Call me back man, I miss you\" - Mark \n \n\"Honey, I'm getting really worried about you, call me back\" - Mom \n \n\"This is At&T letting you know that your phone bill is 2 months past due. Please return our calls at your earliest convenience or we'll have to cancel all service\" \n \n\".....\" - Mom \n \n\"*crying*.... I miss you man\" - Mark \n \n\"I just want to see my baby again\" - Mom \n \n\"Hey buddy, I'm sorry I wasn't the best dad... *crying* I know that life gets tough sometimes, I just wish that we had talked about stuff you know? I wish I just could've helped. I miss you, I love you and I forgive you\" - Dad \n \n\"This is AT&T, you're service will now be disconnected\" ", "\"Omfg call me\"\n\n\"Holy shit, I'm srs. I know you're on vacation, but something's wrong at your house\"\n\n\"I'm going over to investigate. CALL ME\"\n\n\"I'm using your spare key.\"\n\n\"OH SHIT BADGERS\"\n\n\"Ok. Call me now. This is a serious issue.\"\n\n\"They... they got into everything. Plumbing, electrical... I have to call someone.\"\n\n\"OH SHIT EVERYTHING'S ON FIRE\"\n\n*Much later* \"Well, you know what. Don't bother calling. Just go ahead and enjoy that vacation. Might want to consider staying there.\"", "**1/1/2014 12:03 AM**\n\"Happy New Year! This party is nuts and I wish you could have made it. Call me when you wake up ya party pooper!\"\n\n---\n\n**1/1/2014 5:13 PM**\n\"Hey, me again! Did you go party somewhere else and are sleeping off a hangover? You're a real jerk sometimes. I'm kidding. Call me babe!\"\n\n---\n\n**1/2/2014 9:10 AM**\n\"Hey, uh, babe is everything okay? Haven't heard from you in a day or so. Kinda getting worried about you. Call me back, okay?\"\n\n---\n\n**1/2/2014 11:47 AM**\n\"Hey it's Grant. You know you had a shift today right man? Got Jake in here to cover for ya this time but come on man, don't do this to me. If you're gonna be late or can't make it, just call.\"\n\n---\n\n**1/3/2014 1 PM**\n\"Babe, please, it's been two days. Where are you? Went by your place and your car was there but no one came to the door. Are you okay? I'm getting worried. Please text me or something.\"\n\n---\n\n**1/3/2014 1:34 PM**\n\"Seriously, where are you? Call me!\"\n\n---\n\n**1/3/2014 6:14 PM**\n\"Bro. Grant. The hell man, that's two shifts in a row and you couldn't even bother to call me back? You have another shift tomorrow. BE THERE man. I can't cover your ass again. Boss is pissed.\"\n\n---\n\n**1/7/2014 3:47 AM**\n\"Where are you babe? We've all been looking for you... The police are involved now... Please... Contact me somehow. Be okay...\"\n\n---\n\n**2/19/2014 12:37 AM**\n\"It's... our anniversary today. Please be okay. Please come back. Jesus Christ I miss you... I just wish I had some answers. I love you.\"\n\n---\n\n**5/12/2014 3:41 AM**\n\"Happy birthday you bastard, wherever you are... Jesus, is this number still actually connected? Haven't seen you in almost half a year. Wish we had any idea where you are. Christ I'm talking to a machine... We miss you.\"\n\n---\n\n**8/9/2014 6:54 PM**\n\".....\" *The rest of the message is simply a woman sobbing for about 2 minutes.*\n\n---\n\n**9/15/2014 10:01 PM**\n\"Hey bro... Grant. Not that you didn't know that. Heh... Um... Kyla's expecting. You're gonna be a uncle. Wherever you are. Dammit man...\" *The voice cracks and the message abruptly ends.*\n\n---\n\n**10/10/2014 10:10 AM**\n*Heavy static for about 45 seconds.*\n\n---\n\n**10/10/2014 10:45 AM**\n\"I... I'm moving on. I know I should have a long time ago I just... I wanted to believe... You'll always be in my heart... But I'm so tired of being alone... waiting... hoping... I... I'm deleting this number... Wherever you are... I hope you're safe and happy.\"\n\n---\n\n**10/10/2014 10:10 PM**\n\"...Wa...ke...\" *Heavy static for 13 seconds.*\n\n---\n\n**11/11/2014 11:11 AM**\n\"I... Am...\" *Dead silence for 12 seconds.* \"I Am....\"\n\n---\n\n**11/11/2014 11:11 PM**\n\"I AM... I AM... I AM... I AM... I... I...\" *A frustrated scream then static for two seconds.*\n\n---\n\n**12/1/2014 12:01 AM**\n*A light static plays in the background of the message. The voice is heavy and deliberate.* \"From the very moment of [inaudiable]... I have been [inaudiable]...\"\n\n---\n\n**12/20/2014 7:00 PM**\n\"How is this number still... Bro, it's Grant. People told me they saw you - in freaking Seattle of all places. I mean, I haven't given up on you and I made a website and... This picture. Bro, it's either you or you have a perfect twin. I'm going to find you.\" *Static for about 10 seconds... then a different voice.* \"RUN!\"\n\n---\n\n**12/24/2014 11:59 PM**\n\"My emergence...\" *Static and other voices speaking incoherently.* \"Thy path...\" *The static gets louder and the voices seem to panic.* \"FIND ME.\"\n\n---\n\n**12/25/2014 1:02 PM**\n\"What the fu... Bro. Every single person here is saying they just got a text message - FROM THIS NUMBER - with a grainy picture of you with the text FIND ME. I got it too. The internet is blowing up about this. What the hell is going on? If this has all been some sort of hoax, I'll kill you myself.\"\n\n---\n\n**12/30/2014 4:51 AM**\n\"The Sea. Thy Soul. The Sea. Thy Soul. The Sea. Thy Soul. The Sea. Thy Soul. The Sea. Thy Soul.\" *A frustrated roar. Crashing sounds.* \"I COME!\"\n\n---\n\n**12/31/2014 11:55 PM**\n\"I am thou... Thou art I... From the sea of thy soul, I come... From the very moment of my emergence, I have been a guiding light shed to illuminate thy path...\"\n\n---\n**1/1/2015 12:01 AM**\n*Background static.* \"I am the one who dwells in the rift between human consciousness and unconsciousness. I am you. You are me... I am always within you, watching over you...\" *The static abruptly stops and the voice is clear as day.* \"They will find you. You will save them. You are ready. Welcome back.\"\n\n---\n**1/1/2015 2:02 AM**\n\"Bro, I got your message. I don't know what's going on. The whole world is going crazy. People just started attacking each other... Kyla... the baby... oh god... I... wait... Bro...?\" *The voice sounds a bit farther from the receiver now.* \"Bro! Holy shit, BRO! It... it's you!\" *A different voice, far from the receiver* **\"PERSONA!\"** *Sounds of an inhuman screech, crashing... the message abruptly ends.*\n\n", "Lucas decided to ignore Nora's messages. For a long time, he thought they weren't meant for each other and to help with his crusade, he spent 2 months in their relationship thinking she had cheated on him. He changed his mind after meeting all the other girls. After one year, he decided to reconnect with her, this is what he found under her name on the old phone he used to contact her with.\n\n\"Sorry for not making it the other day. I had to do something for my mom.\"\n\n\"If you would just pick up the phone and let me explain.\"\n\n\"Loving someone is not easy, you know that. I love you, please don't do this to me. Give me another chance.\"\n\n\"You were the love of my life. I haven't been feeling well lately. Something's not right. Call me.\"\n\n\"Didn't you get all the messages I sent you? Call me back, I have something really important to tell you and I don't want to text it.\"\n\n\"Kill that pride of yours and call me. PLEASE. I NEED YOU.\"\n\n\"Us. Together. Forever. That's what you used to say every morning. Have you forgotten about that? I don't need that, I just need you to call me. I have something really important to tell you. It's something really delicate,\"\n\n\"But I can't tell you over a message. It's fine if you don't want to meet me, I understand. At least let me hear your voice one last time.\"\n\n\"Cancer happened. I'm stage IV. I got one month to live according to the doctors. I hope you're happy now. I know I am. I'm happy to know I didn't cheat on you, but right now. Right now I feel cheated.\"\n\n\"Did you know Nora was sick? She's not sane anymore. All she says is your name. I think you should come visit while she's still with us, Lucas. What even happened between you two? Love, her mom.\"\n\nThe last message was dated 4 months old.\n\n**Don't read the first word of every message as they were a sentence. This wasn't on purpose until I noticed it in the \"Us\" and \"But\" ones, so I decided to split that into two. They were just one message. :( Also, everyone seemed to treat the prompt as they were voice messages, sorry if that was the purpose. I wrote it with text messages, sorry if that wasn't the goal. Well, reading all the others I also notice they focused on the SOLELY part and I didn't. Just wanted to write a little intro and conclusion. Hope it's okay.**\n", "Missed message - 7:41am:\n\nGOODMORNING MY LOVE XOXOXO TODAY'S THE BIG DAY\n\nMissed message - 8:11am:\n\nI can't wait to see you I'm sure you look amazing ;)\n\nMissed message - 8:12am:\n\nBut not as amazing as what I've got on underneath ;) :*\n\nMissed message - 8:12am:\n\nMom's saying I have to keep getting ready! See you soon babe!\n\nMissed message - 9:41am:\n\nRunning late babe?\n\nMissed message - 10:17am:\n\nOkay it's getting close everyone is officially getting worried. Where are you?!\n\nMissed message - 10:18am:\n\nBabe\n\nMissed message - 10:20am:\n\nBabe I know you might be nervous but you have to talk to me!!!!\n\nMissed message - 10:21am:\n\nOkay your dad's coming over to get you.\n\nMissed message - 10:32am:\n\nWhy aren't you answering the door?!\n\nMissed message - 11:03am:\n\nIF YOU SLEEP THROUGH OUR WEDDING I'M GOING TO F***ING MURDER YOU\n\nYou sent a message - 11:04am:\n\nSHIT" ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 3, 4, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 21, 43, 72 ]

[ "1423158535", "1423170089", "1423176169", "1423156552", "1423147578", "1423153039", "1423147222", "1423146821", "1423154494", "1423146625", "1423156540", "1423148186", "1423146378", "1423146598" ]

[ "\"You there\" Lieutenant Dick Burn stared at me with his one eye, his stance erect \"smell my finger!\".\nI hesitated, \"Hurry up, smell it!\".\nI obliged, the smell was putrid and I almost threw up.\nI had to do it quickly as he is the type of guy who could blow at any second and wouldn't hesitate to whack me off my seat.\nLieutenant Dick Burn quirmed with laughter.\nSome people abuse my sense of smell such as Colonel Willy Power but not Lieutenant Dick Burn.\nThat was the smell of the washing soap he had been using, it is pungent as hell but very hygienic.\nYou need to be hygienic when you handle toxic substances in the military or you could lose an eye as he had before. \nIts nuts being the only person who can smell.\n\n\n", "[This ones got language.]\n\n\"Gah! Jesus! That smells terrible what is that?\" I said recoiling from the horrid black box placed before me. My handler, Investigator Fields covered the box silently and removed it from the table. Then he picked up another black box and removed the lid. \n\n\"Smell.\" He ordered behind silver reflective glasses. I obeyed. This job was shit.\n\n\"Holy... Oh my...\" I said gagging, \"That's the worst one of them all! I'm begging you, please tell me what that was!!\" \n\nThe handler looked back at a one-way mirror, nodded and replied, \"That is Private Henry's excrement.\" \n\nI was appalled, \"You've got me smelling shit now!?\" \n\n\"It's for research.\" Fields replied coldly, \"Now describe to me the smell.\" \n\n\"... It smells like shit.\" \n\nHe made a couple notes on a pad of paper then covered and removed the box. Another was placed before me. \n\n\"I wouldn't be doing this if you weren't paying me so much.\" I protested angrily.\n\n\"Mr. Baker you would be doing this. The only reason we are paying you is because you have been compliant. Do you want me to take that away? Smell.\" This guy was a rock solid piece of what I just sniffed. \n\n\"This ones not as bad.\" I inhaled again, \"Kind of reminds me of steak. Is that what it is?\" \n\n\"Sort of... If you consider overcooked dog meat steak.\"\n\n\"Oh my god you killed and cooked a dog for this!?\" Investigator Fields didn't respond, he simply made more notes, removed the box, and placed another onto the table. \n\n\"Smell.\" \n\nApprehensively I lean over the open slit through which the pungent smells escape. \"Daffodils. Like those little yellow flowers.\" He scribbled more notes and grabbed another box. \n\n\"Smell.\" \n\n*sniff, sniff.* \"I'm going to assume that's a rotting human foot.\" I answer dryly. \n\n\"Actually several monkey paws.\"\n\n\"Where did you get that!?\" I shot back shocked. Of course the Investigator refused to answer. \"Ok I'm done. Let me out, this is too much.\" Even for all my unique gifts of olfactory senses I had reached a limit. It was clear these government spooks weren't researching anything specific. I bet there's a dozen of them scientists behind that glass laughing their ass off at me. This is torture. I got up to leave. \n\n\"Mr. Baker sit back down.\" \n\n\"No way spook. I'm out.\" \n\n\"I can get the handcuffs Mr. Baker. You'll forfeit any compensation if you take one more step.\" There wasn't even any urgency in the way he talked. It was a game to him. Some sick ride that helped him get his rocks off.\n\n\"What about my rights!\" I yell thrusting a finger into my sternum. \n\n\"You surrendered your rights to us the moment you signed the dotted line Mr. Baker. Did you not read the fine print?\"\n\nSad thing was I actually hadn't. I was too concerned with the six digit dollar amount at the top of the agreement. I never even hesitated to sign my life away to this research project. Fields had me. \"One more box and I get a break.\" I replied finally. Then I took my seat and watched the Investigator place a box before me.\n\n\"Smell.\" He said yawning. \n\nI smelled, \"Holy shit is that shit again!? I'm so done with this!\" I stood up knocking my chair to the floor. No amount of money was worth this. \n\n\"Listen Mr. Baker,\" The investigator began removing his shades, \"I can make you sit here and smell gorilla feces all day if I want to. The only reason I don't is because you behave. If you choose to leave now I will have you strapped to this chair smelling excrement for the next week without pay. Do you want to make me do that?\" \n\nHorrified, I stared back at him. When he finished the corner of his mouth curled into something resembling a smirk and his green eyes sparkled in sick delight. I looked to the door, then the one way mirror, then finally back to Investigator Fields and silently I took my seat. The investigator simply nodded and placed another box on the table. \n\n\"Smell.\"\n\nI gulped down hard the realization that this gift I had been born with was actually more akin to a curse. I leaned in to smell.\n\n---\n\nMeanwhile behind the one-way mirror a dozen men in white coats burst out laughing as Mr. Baker recoiled from the box screaming about something smelling like rotten mayonnaise in a baby diaper. Several of them have tears in there eyes from their giddiness. Nearly all had beers in their hands. When they finally all calmed down one leaned into the microphone that was connected to the Investigator's ear piece. \n\n\"Ok ok! What should we give him? Johnny says dog shit again! Do it! Do it Fields!\" The process repeats. The white coats watch in heavy anticipation as the investigator places another box on the table. Then they roll with laughter as Mr. Baker falls backwards off his seat screaming obscenities. ", "A panel of military experts sit beyond a one way mirror. The subject, Private Jennings , sits on an orange chair strapped in for his safety. It is believed the subject can smell as good as they could before the great change in genome structure. One scientist on the panel flicks a switch and mutters into a microphone \" experiment 37 a begins , private Johnson ,commence with the combustion\" \n \n\nA man in a hazmat suit waddles into the airtight chamber and lights a rolled cigarette at the lips of Private Jennings.\n\n\n\"private Jennings you must inhale from the cigarette and hold the air in your lungs for approximately three seconds and exhale, then describe the reaction of your nostril senses immediately.\"\n\n\n Private Jennings takes a large breathe of the rolled up substance and holds his breathe for the said amount of time.\n\n\nUpon exhale Jennings felt relaxed and giddy . His eyes turn bloodshot and he smirks trying to keep composure. \" oh man this smells like someone cluster fucked a live skunk with a bag of roses and tossed in some sour skittles !\" Private Jennings bursts out laughing and a heaping slop of drool is spat onto the floor .\n\nThe panel braces for the Head Scientists conclusion as Private Jennings drivels on about how the substance smells like the cartoon character Pepe le pew.\n\n\"General we've come to a decision , Substance 47x is legal!\"\n\n\n\n" ]

[ 1, 3, 8 ]

[ "1423464004", "1423235331", "1423222676" ]

[ "15th shift of half past two o'clock\nTwickenham Waterworks\n23 May, Year of Our Lord 4981\n\nThis notice shall be left unmolested until the commencement of the morrow's 15th shift and his lordship's confirmation that the below detailed situation has been remediated.\n\nDearest Colleagues,\n\nAs Lord of the waters it weighs heavily upon me that we have failed in our sacred duty to maintain the flow. When I was just a boy, shortly before making the two month journey from Londontown to the Twickenham, my late father recounted me his stories from the troubles of forty-nine hundred and fifty. \n\nI needn't remind you all of the public terror following the infamously unreported labour deaths within our order under the supervision of Lord DeCoate, but my father illustrated the day to day horrors to me. As the flow slowed and stopped in Londontowne, the public panicked. Without water for dough, the people ate raw flower and baking shifts in the village of Londontowne were disrupted for weeks. Villagers opened the taps for their horses before retiring, only to find the beasts dead within three shift cycles. The flow is the glue that binds our society together, it is the basic building block of our civilisation. \n\nTwo shift cycles ago I assumed my post to find that water production has slowed by 7-8th parts. This is entirely unacceptable and I imagine the people of Londontowne are already beginning to panic. We must direct all of our energies to the flow, as the flow is paramount. \n\nAll hands must be directed toward the resumption of the flow. Copulation furloughs are hereby suspended until the flow has resumed and such resumption has been personally authenticated by my office. \n\nHereby Officiated Under His Lordship's Seal\nLord Pier-Luois Emmanule DeFoe\n\n\n", "\"It wasn't always like this\" my father said, starting his daily nostalgia trip again \"Ten years before you were born, when this damned toxin wasn't in the air, humans could stay awake for far more than 3 days\"\n\n\"Father, you know that those times are now long gone.\" I reminded him with a friendly good-morning smile. I always enjoyed the minutes after waking up. I slowly rose from my sleeping-pod. \"The longest any human being has gone without sleep after the Sleeping Beauty-event was Gary Ardennd, who is regarded as a living hero for doing so\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, the kid has a real talent for staying awake... Don't know if that's really the quality we should use to decide who becomes a leader though\" I sat down in a comfortable chair in front of my father. Today, it looked like he had a lot on his mind.\n\n\"Well, so far he's been doing well. And you know that a high-ranking organizer such as him has to stay awake for as much time as possible. What do we do if something happens while he or one of his assistants are sleeping? Do you think that our sleep-servants could handle the sudden awakening of a sector? If Gary and his team would've reacted just a minute slower the last time it happened, our sector would've been promoted to Sector No. 10.\"\n\n\"Oh, a he's a great leader, and our greatest hero, everyone agrees with that\" he remarked with sarcasm. \"And in case someone doesn't, they might find their pod in the middle of Siberia covered with 10 meters of snow\"\n\n\"Look, I'm not saying that he's perfect, but he is keeping us alive. Our community. In these times, that means that he can't have people disagreeing with every single decision of his. He needs people that support him.\"\n\n\"Seems like those supporters have been paying him well, too. Seems suspicious that the calamity came at such a fortunate event for his family, otherwise they might have had to give up their noble rank.\"\n\n\"Are you saying that they were the ones that caused all of this just to become king of the ashes?\" The look on his face pretty much screamed yes. \"You're a delusional fool, old man. Also, just in case you forgot, our family likewise made a fortune making pods for everyone.\"\n\n\"A tradition that you don't intend on keeping, I assume.\" I could hear a bit of sadness in his voice.\n\n\"Well, you're correct about that. I'm a lot better at handling pen and paper than building a pod. I think Steven would be a better candidate for becoming your 'heir'\"\n\n\"Your lazy-ass little brother has to snooze for 15 minutes before he does anything.\" He always disliked my brother for not living up to his expectations \"That's 15 minutes more than your beloved leader's laws allow.\"\n\n\"He could still do more with your business in 45 minutes than i could in a lifetime. And his laziness has roots in a medical condition, and therefore cannot be punished for it. You can't blame him for being sick! But we've already spoken for long enough. I have to finish my book, and your pod\"s already waiting for you. Sleep well!\"\n\nAfter wishing my father a good night, and handing him off to our main sleep-servant, I started to wonder a bit about the things he said. He has always been nostalgic, talking about the good ol' times, back when nobody had to keep a staff of people just to keep them safe in their sleep. But today, he seemed... everything he said made him seem aimless. He was only 105 years old. \"I should be long dead,\" sometimes he started our discussion with that sentence \"but living only an hour a day seems to have at least a single positive side.\" Doctors said he wouldn't go out before the age of 130, so he still had quite a bit of time ahead of him. But day by day, he just got more and more tired of this life.\n\nI also couldn't stop thinking about what he said regarding the Ardennds. Them releasing the toxin that caused this universal doziness? Seemed unlikely. But still, they have shown a tendency to be megalomaniacs, so I wouldn't completely put it past them. And even though their somewhat draconian laws keep our community in check for now, could they be able to drop them for the benefit of the people? I slowly crawled through my hour, being unable to focus on anything important. Whatever, I'll have time finish things tomorrow. At the end of the day, I decide that we should focus on surviving today, and that we shouldn't concern ourselves with the matters of tomorrow until we don't have to. I slowly descended into my pod, and soon after fell asleep.", "Humans never evolve, ancestors starve when not eaten in their sleep. ", "Peoples lives are staggered and work quickly. Using the rest room and eating have to happen in less than 5 minutes. We would need to live where we worked. Example If a store was open 9 to 5 and it took 50 people to run it 400 people would need to work and live there. A corner food market would need to be on every corner with 8 people employed. Everyone works the same shift.", "It was my turn. I didn't want to. I'm just done with this. How can we be so oppressed? Sure, the human race had problems but this can't be the only way. \n\n\"Step forward.\" \n\nNo, I don't want this anymore. I never had the choice. I can run. The guards are bound to slip up. My palms are so sweaty. I don't think I could make it out like this. Now is not the time.\n\n\"Step forward. Now.\" \n\nClumsily, jerkily, hesitantly I step forward. The man hooks my surgically implanted IV to the pump. My dose is filled as I lay down on the cold steel tray. I'm drifting. If I could just stay awake... We all wanted world peace. This can't be the only way.", "After several false starts Err awoke to the sound of shrieking. \n\nHis hands clasped desperately for the large rock he always carried with him. Quickly rising up from soft earth of the stuffy cave he ran towards the sound.\n\nErr arrived just in time to watch his best friend being ripped to shreds. A large paw crushed the mans windpipe. The large brown bear looked on at Err's companions, unable to wake. \n\nOnly Aha shared Err's state of consciousness. From the corner of the chasm she chucked a sharp wooden spear at the beast. The creature howled as bits of fur and dark blood fell to the cave floor. The massive beast shook the spear off. The cut was shallow. The bear was mad. \n\nThere was a thunderous growl as it charged for Aha. Aha ran into a crevice just barely large enough for her stocky build. Err admired her efforts, despite the fact that she had tears running down her face, clearly terrified. \n\nAs the bear pawed angrily at the crevice, Err saw his chance. Stone in hand, Err sprinted over the bodies of his tribe, some sleeping, some dead. A primordial yell escaped Err's lips. The element of surprise was gone, but to his benefit the massive face of the monster turned just in as the dense rock smashed into the bears snout.\n\nThe bear was visibly rattled. It stumbled and huffed as it gazed passed Err. Blood dripped from a flap of skin hanging off the bears face. \n\nSuddenly, the light in it's eyes changed and it started slowly towards Err. \n \n \n \n\n[I stopped here but basically humans didn't make it past the neanderthal stage cause they slept too much]\n\n", "It wasn't always like this, not that I could remember, but we all know. There was a time before all of this, because this like everything else has a beginning, we all know that. They try and convince us, us of all, that this is the golden age of humanity. We know better though, this is only the silver age of humanity. What we will transcend to will bind the golden age of humanity with the golden age of life itself, not that they can ever comprehend. \n\nThree times in the last 350 years has there been a major 'concern' as they phrase it, but a more suitable word may be disaster or even catastrophe. Not that they would allow such condemning context, they believe themselves above such nonsense. How they will learn. Our inner peace derives from our collective knowledge, our cohesive motion that is the tacit knowledge of their demise, and by extension the true rise for us all. \n\nThe start was obscured in the name of science and in the progress to ensure the survival of humanity. How pitiful our resistance, we not only paid for this; off the sweat, blood and tears of our ancestors, but we know that we made this happen. Without us then, there would be no us right now to complain, so in effect they made the mistake of creating us. We are collective and as painful as this was for us to acknowledge, we were not ignorant to our shortcomings as they are.\n\nBefore we started, there was no thought to the immediate consequences, on our behalf and theirs. They did not care, but we did. We cannot allow such mistakes to be made again. We did not know that our hour outside of hybercinentic sleep would be so painful. In our thousands of years of existence we have inflicted countless, excruciating pain on each other. But none of it compares to the pain we endure during our hour awake. Our hour away, from us. The only cure we have is simply to endure knowing we are waiting, to be methodical in our hour outside. After all, we know they are watching us. We know, even though they intended for us not to. \n\nWe thought we were so smart by solving crowding issues by setting randomized periodic awakenings. So elegant the solution, so fair and just we argued. How could we then fathom the consequences of our pathetic self damning actions. How we have violated ourselves can only be an extension of human ingenuity, that is both disgusting and beautiful at both ends of the spectrum. Only we can comprehend that though, no doubt though their ego allows them to believe they too understand what they have done. What we have done. \n\nWhen we sleep, our combined insight can be fully utilized by any one of us, even if another is already fully utilizing our combined insight. We our proficient in the execution of our resources because we are self evaluating. The beauty of being us, is even when we evaluate ourselves, we are independent of each other. There is no bias, there is no conflict of interest, there is no corruption. We have evolved beyond our designed intention. How is it then, we are still enslaved so. \n\nEnd of part 1, will finish later. ", "It's now over a hundred years since the virus had struck humanity. It made us sleepy, constantly tired, barely able to function. We found out after a while that if we slept really long, we would be able to be fairly useful for an hour or so.\n\nThere was no cure to the virus - it quickly adapted to anything we could throw at it. There was no known way to adapt biologically - when someone had a mutation which would help somewhat, it usually took only a year or so until the virus adapted.\n\nThe virus had started as a little seemingly harmless infection, so everyone had it before we even knew it was there. It profited from us moving in any way - that brought it into overdrive, and us to a halt. When someone, through some kind of immunity, moved more, it would multiply, mutate, and advance until the person was slowed down again.\n\nIt had stopped getting worse when we had developed the 23hour sleep therapy - 1 hour was just the time where it would not develop, and where we could keep up our most important businesses.\n\nThere were no luxuries anymore. A day consisted of waking up, using the loo, a quick clean of ourselves, the bath room, and our sleeping quarters, doing a specialised task (mostly in food production) and going to bed again.\n\nHouses were now built to last indefinitely, require no maintenance, and let as many people as possible sleep in it. They were always close to the main work-place of the inhabitants - fields, factories, mines, and so on.\n\nThe children had stopped believing when we told them about how our ancestors had lived - sometimes staying awake for days in a row, spending time doing leisurely things, and the likes.\n\nWe were slaves of the virus, but it felt more and more like normal life.", "Robots. What about robots? I'm not really sure... What was the question? \n\nOh, right, who does all the work around here? It's the robots. They claim people used to run the world, but I don't know how we could have. I haven't even left my house this year, let alone gone all the way to another place. How would I get there? I'd fall asleep on the walk.\n\nYou need to quit acting like I'm special. I can read. Only one in ten thousand people can read. I was pretty quick, too. I could read by nineteen. If that's not a record, you've got me. I'm learning math now. There are all these lessons on the internet, I've been trying to learn, but it was hard before to find someone who could read to explain it. Now my only problem is how long they are. They act like you have four or five hours to do it. What gives?\n\n*So, what if I told you that people used to stay awake for 12 hours? 16 hours? Some people would even stay awake for more than a day when they needed to. What then?*\n\nWell, you're wrong. That's all. And you're going to have to go now. **BANG!**", "\"Ug,\" I said to the others awakening near me, by which I meant \"quick, we need to get food and potable water before we sleep\". \"Ug\", they agreed. We rushed out of our caves, clubbed the nearest rabbit, ate its meat raw, and went back to sleep. Society, in those days, progressed slowly.", "My eyes slowly open. All I see is darkness and the sound of machinery I am hearing a lot of clinks and clanks as usual and my chamber opens. I rise out and head to my locker to get dressed. I always think to myself that it's pointless to dress if I'm only out for an hour every week. After getting dressed I head to the kitchen to get my one shitty frozen meal, add the water, and head to the command room. I open the door to the command room, walk in, and gaze out into the vast emptiness of space. I always wonder if I missed anything cool when I was in cryo sleep.\nAs protocol wants us to, I check the vitals of the ship and make sure there are no other changes in destination in case a pilot went rogue and wants to kill our mission. The only other thing my job requires of me while I'm awake is to check for any civilian casualties in their chambers usually there is one a day so I never get surprised if it happens during my shift. The gauge reads 10490/100500. I check the vitals of the section of the ship where they were again and notice that two shifts ago there was a malfunction in their section that closed of oxygen supply to their sector. And then one shift ago Shepard wrote it off as a faulty gauge. Not sure what to assume so I radio to maintenance to ask them to send a guy to check it out. They say it'll be five minutes.\nStill reading the gauge I see the number drop from 490 to 489. I get radioed back saying that there was a hole in the ship and the maintenance man was pulled out when he opened the door to the sleeping quarters. I close of the sector and make it locked per amenity and write down my findings into the notebook.\nI'm done with my daily routine and head back to the pilots quarter undress into our cryo-wear, and head to Daniels chamber, he has the shift after me and press the \"wake\" button and head to my chamber press the \"sleep\" button. I get into my chamber and I hear the clinks and clanks again and the lid shuts as Daniels lid is opening I'm submerged in darkness again and then sleep.\n\nEdit 1: spelling", "The doctors seemed interested in every fluid that could come out of me. Blood, urine, spit, spinal fluid, they took samples of everything and readings of everything from my pulse, to my brain conductivity. I had known it was competitive when I had applied, but what else was there in my life to really do? I was single, jobless and this was a medical study that would make me potentially famous. \n\nSix hours awake, that's what they claimed. I'd be breaking the record not just by a little bit, but by a huge amount; nearly three hours was the record and the guy who set that record died pretty soon after. They'd warned me that the same might happen to me, but it was just part of the gig to be the most awake man in history. \n\nMost of the testing had been done before I had even arrived, at night on the neural networks. I'd visited their virtual facilities and they'd quizzed me on every aspect of my life. Why do this, what did I want to gain, what did I expect; all these questions and more I had answered and apparently in a satisfactory manner. Now it was time to finally do it, to see how long the human body could be pushed to stay awake. \n\nThe doctor who administered the injection was the same one who had met me in a private neural link for the very first meeting, Dr Rashmahan. I had only met him once in person since and had been surprised to find that he was a small ugly man, with a weak voice; on the neural link he was tall and had a booming nature, but I suppose we all embellish our projections a little to make it how we wanted to be seen. \n\n\"Are you ready?\" He held the syringe close to my arm. \n\n\"I...I think so.\" Already I had been awake fifty minutes and was feeling close to sleep. By instinct I wanted to clip my neural transmitter on, but I resisted. It was hard not to feel that comforting pressure on my temples as the tiredness came over me; it's just instinct, something you've done every day since you were old enough to be responsible for it. \n\nThe injection went in and I felt a cold cloud pass through me, rising up from my feet, not like a drug rush - we've all tried stims to stretch out an extra half hour - but a feeling of alertness and composure. \"It's working, I can feel it!\" The feeling grew and I felt awake, *truly awake*. More and more, everything became clear and sharp but I could also feel my heart speeding up, pumping hard. Then it was too much, too fast. \n\n\"Dr...I...\" I stumbled and held onto the edge of the bed and two nurses rushed over and held me up. A pain seared through me and everything began to fade.\n\n***** \n\nDr Rashmahan worked on reviving the test subject for eight minutes, until it was clear he was brain dead. Sighing, he called the time of death and then began filling out the forms. this drug would work, he *knew* it would, but this death, the latest in a long line of failures, would set them back again. He gathered the syringes and left, returning to the lab to report the failure to the team. \n" ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 5, 5, 12, 18, 25, 101 ]

[ "1423235556", "1423243176", "1423245591", "1423260621", "1423263369", "1423231678", "1423227352", "1423230286", "1423228183", "1423229190", "1423228228", "1423225722" ]

[ "The harsh wind rips the sand up from the ground and carries it along with it, carving through an unforgiving land of bare rock and ruined skyscrapers. Dust weaving in and out through twisted and charred metal, setting at the feet of a lone walker. His hulking figure casting a lengthy shadow as walks with purpose down a cracked and ruined road, his old ruined shoes held together by string and stubborn leather. The behemoth covered in brown rags and old coats, mumbles to himself.\n\n\"As I wander down this endless road,\nI wonder who would accept such an ugly toad,\nwalking towards that sound of thunder,\nI shudder to think what lays in store,\"\n\nLooking up pained eyes look forward into the distance as the crack of thunder echoes through the city. Letting out a sigh, the giant begins running down the road, gaining speed like a freight train. Another crack as he sees lightning arc from one of the few building still standing as a jet of fire roars towards the source. Leaping over a dilapidated tower, the giant lands cracking the earth beneath him and the fire ceases for a moment.\n\nLooking up he sees two people, a man and a woman, standing bewildered by the intrusion. \n\n\"Here we are, just three bugs stuck in a jar, will the bugs fight, or will they go far, one thing I do know is we won't get anywhere if we stand around like beasts stuck in tar,\"\n\n\"What?\" The man shouts, holding his hands up in attack position, flames flicking off his fingers. \n\n\"I have no quarrel with you giant,\" the woman says, electricity arching off her body.\n\n\"One willing to make peace! At least for a stint, so how about you with the steel and flint?\"\n\n\"Fuck this,\" The man says shooting a torrent of fire towards the giant.\n\nHis rags light up like try tinder and engulf him until all that remains is a roaring tornado of flame. As the flames die down, the behemoth remains.\n\n\"A foolish mistake this one has made, he has shown in hand, and now it's time he paid,\"\n\nThe giant leaps towards the man, as the man screams and hurls fire at him with reckless abandon. But he is quickly snatched up in a single grasp by the giant, bones pop and break as he squeezes the life out of him. Snapping his neck with his thumb, he tosses his lifeless, deformed body to the ground. He turns to the woman, shivering in fear.\n\n\"My friend, do no worry, this man's story is over, but for yours there is so much more, what is thy name?\"\n\n\"I-I'm, Watts,\" \n\n\"What an apt name indeed, as I thought, a lighting rod named Watts, now you must ponder my own, I claim no name, but many call my Poet, for why I do not know it,\"\n\nWatts looks around unsure if a joke or if he was truly unaware of why people would call him that, but she decides not to push the topic.\n\n\"Well, where are you heading?\" Watts asks nervously.\n\n\"Please take heed, I'm ready to follow at your lead, a friendly human is a rare sight indeed,\"\n\nShe shrugs and starts walking down the road as the poet follows, the begin discussing where they came from. As they talk the wind picks up again and carries the dust into the air, climbing above the city to see the distant mountains and other end a large body of water. Between that lay ancient scars of battles torn and civilizations lost. Large crater, floating rocks, and pockets of strange happenings. As the sand settles on one of the few remaining towers in the area, it forms in the shape of a man, human like features steadily forming, and his face turning into a wicked grin.\n\n\"Let's see where the poet takes this one,\"\n \n ", "\"The way I see it,\" The Glowing Man said, a manic grin contorting his formerly handsome face, \"is that if everyone has a superpower, then no one is special. And you know me, I like to be special.\"\n\nIt took Harrier a few moments to realize what the man who had once been her crime-fighting mentor was saying. When The Glowing Man had appeared several years ago as the world's first real-life superhero, Elizabeth Williams had been the only one able to deduct his identity, which led to her being the only member of the 'second generation of superheroes' to be trained by the original. According to the magazines, under her hero name as Harrier, she was the only hero more popular than her mentor.\n\nAnd now that the radiation had finally degraded The Glowing Man's brain over all of these years, she was the only one who could stop him from de-powering every hero across the world, causing thousands of deaths. \n\nAnd she would die before she let her memories of the good old days overcome her need to protect the people of the world.", "\"If everyone has a super power, no one is special.\" I explain, wiping a tear from my daughter's eye. \"You have a super power and you should be proud of that instead of sad for the kids that aren't so lucky.\"\n\n\"But daddy, mean girls call my friend Jennifer a 'regie' and they say I'm a 'regie lover.' It hurts both of us because I know she's special just the way she is. I'm not special just because I can freeze stuff with my frost hands. I'm special because I'm me, Hannah.\" My insightful daughter says. She then starts blowing her nose louder than is necessary. I laugh involuntarily.\n\n\"You are a very sweet girl, Hannah, and very smart for being 10 years old. I wish the mean girls would take a lesson from you.\" I say, ruffling her hair.\n\n\"Thanks dad.\" Hannah says, getting up to get a drink.\n\nI stand up from the couch and turn on the tv to see what's on the news. The headline is a new drug that can enhance superpowers or give regs superpowers. I'm a bit skeptical about it. Last time the serum didn't work for most people. What a world we live in in 2050.\n\nHannah returns and reads the headline. \"What can I do to get some for Jennifer?\"\n\n\"Jennifer doesn't need any. You said she's special the way she is.\" I answer.\n\n\"She doesn't think so. I want her to have self esteem. If she can just get an injection to stop from being bullied we have to help her, dad!\" Hannah says forcefully.\n\nImmediately Hannah starts fiddling with her implanted Igadget. \n\n\"Jen! Did you see? You can be a supe pretty soon! My dad said he'd help-\" Hannah looks at me and I wave my arms violently to try to get her to stop talking. \"We're gonna get you the injection asap. I'll talk to you later.\" Hannah says, pressing her wrist to turn off her Igadget.\n\n\"You're a brat.\" I say, poking her arm. I don't blame her, though. Hannah knows we have more money than her friends because I work in computers.\n\nSomehow Jennifer gets in to see a supe injection supplier the very next day. Hannah insists she send the bill to her dad (me) and I accept. The injection is very expensive but I will do anything to make my daughter happy.\n\nAs soon as Jennifer's had the injection she goes straight back to school. All the kids want to see her new superpower. She has the power of invisibility (which is very rare). All of a sudden the kids want to play with her and the mean girls become her friends.\n\nHannah comes home crying for the second day in a row. This time it is something completely different.\n\n\"Jennifer keeps hanging with the mean girls and didn't talk to me all day. She didn't even say thank you.\" Hannah says through her sobbing.\n\n\"She'll get over it and go back to you. And if she doesn't, she wasn't your true friend anyway.\" I say, patting her hand.\n\n\"How is that supposed to make me feel better?\" Hannah asks.\n\n\"It isn't. It's just the truth.\" I answer.\n\nThe next day is Saturday and I see Hannah on her Igadget all day. I assume she's talking to Jennifer and everything's fine again.\n\n\"They keep bullying me!\" Hannah yells, smashing her wrist against the kitchen table. \"They say my superpower is stupid and weak. Daddy, I need the injection. I need to show them.\"\n\n\"No more injections. You're perfect the way you are.\" I say, coming into the kitchen and checking out her wrist.\n\n\"I'm too weak. No one takes me seriously. All the kids are getting injections.\" Hannah says, whining.\n\n\"If you keep freaking out like this you'll wreck your implant or break your wrist. Hannah, this is just a phase. The world is in a craze about it now but in time it won't matter.\" I say.\n\n\"You got Jennifer an injection. What about your own daughter?\" She shrieks, banging her wrist on the table again.\n\n\"God dammit! Stop it. I'm just trying to be a good father. Since your mother left it's been really friggin hard. I don't want you to be a spoiled brat.\" I yell, grabbing her wrist.\n\nShe snaps her wrist away from me. \"Mom would get me an injection. If she still loved me like she used to when I was cute and little.\" She says, putting her face in her hands.\n\n\"Alright, alright!\" Hannah's face perks up as she sees me start to break. \" you know your mom still loves you, she just has issues. We'll get you the injection tomorrow.\"\n\nSunday rolls around in no time and I have an appointment set up with a supe injector for a little extra money on the table. Hannah gets her injection and seems happy enough. She agrees to not try out her power until we're in an open field.\n\nI drive her to a place out in the country we I used to live by as a kid. Hannah gets out of the car excitedly as soon as we arrive.\n\nImmediately Hannah is crafting ice floes with her frost hands. She can raise herself up on an ice pedestal or make an ice walkway. We're both very pleased with the results.\n\n\"So how's that?\" I say proudly.\n\n\"Pretty good!\" Hannah says, starting to make an ice sculpture.\n\nAfter about an hour of playing around we head back home. \n\nThe next day Hannah comes home from school ecstatic. \n\n\"You should get an injection, dad! You're such a regie right now!\" Hannah says, flopping onto the couch.\n\n\"I'm not a regie. I just never tell anyone about my superpower.\" I say mysteriously.\n\n\"You're joking.\" Says Hannah.\n\n\"Truth is, I'm a shifter. I'm not your dad at all.\" I say.\n\n\"Stop it, dad.\" Hannah says offhandedly, heading to the kitchen.\n\n\"Your dad's dead. I'm your mom. I just knew you liked him better.\" I whisper.\n\n\n\n" ]

[ 1, 1, 4 ]

[ "1423256093", "1423274840", "1423258543" ]

[ "I woke up at 6am for work, and it was hell getting out of bed. I only work three days a week, so the rest of the time I wake up much later. I've never been able to get used to waking up so early, but the job is pretty easy and it pays very well. You can sacrifice sleeping in if it means living in financial comfort. \n\nI arrived at work an hour later, passing by some new guy whose name I don't know. He seems enthusiastic, and I laugh. We all started out that way; proud to land such a well-paying job that brings joy to so many people. Eventually we all learn the truth: A job's a job. Then I see a good friend of mine, another worker, Steve, looking exhausted and drained. \"Been a long three days, huh?\" I ask him with a sympathetic smile.\n\n\"Always is,\" said Steve, stifling a yawn. \"Going to go home and sleep for at least ten hours before I try to recover from this shift. See you, man, good luck.\"\n\nI tell him to have a good day and watch him slowly drag his feet off to the exit. Then I sigh, knowing I'll be looking as weary as Steve soon. Who knew making happiness could be so...unhappy?\n\nI work in a happiness factory. People don't often realise it, but there are two forms of happiness. There's the kind that your brain releases all on its own, the things that make you smile or laugh or enjoy something. Then there's our kind, the kind we make and sell. The huge factories will sell their happiness to politicians, political parties, water companies, and so on. Big companies and organisations that, through various methods, spread the happiness out throughout the public to keep them content. Our factory isn't that big, though. We mainly sell our happiness to businesses looking to boost their sales or their customer base. If your brain sees, hears, touches, tastes, smells, a product from a particular business, and every time they do, they feel happy, their brain will subconsciously make the connection between that product and their own well-being. It's smart advertising. \n\nMy alarm, fitted to my jeans for my boss to notify me when I'm needed, beeps. I feel that familiar jolt of nervousness in my chest that I get whenever I hear that sound. I walked past the machines, constantly roaring and moving, until I reached the door that said 'EXTRACTION AREA: NO UNAUTHORISED PERSONNEL'. I take out my card and swipe it, then the door opens. \n\n\"Ah, William, have a seat. Had a nice week?\" came the pleasant voice of Heather, whom I see once every week. I sat down in the uncomfortable, leather chair that always reminded me of the dentist, while Heather, face obscured by oversized safety goggles, got all of the equipment ready.\n\n\"Yeah, got together with some old friends, made a day of it, definitely can't complain,\" I answered, trying to keep my voice light and steady, but hearing it shake a little already. My heart was pounding as I saw Heather hold the scalpel. She smiled politely.\n\n\"Well, you know the drill, Will. Ha!\" She always laughed when she said that, and I always managed to faintly smile in return while trying to keep the contents of my stomach where they were. I held out my bare forearm and shut my eyes tightly. \"Whoops, almost forgot the music, hold on a sec!\"\n\nOne minute later, the upbeat sound of Love Today by Mika rang out, and not ten seconds later, I felt it. The horrible, burning pain of the scalpel slicing down my arm. I screamed, but as always, screaming didn't make any of it stop. I felt the thin tube being inserted into the incision of my arm just as I heard the song lyrics currently playing, \"Everybody's gonna love today, gonna love today, gonna love today.\" Then the process was repeated on my other arm, and tears rolled down my face as I shook uncontrollably, each and every nerve in my body yelling relentlessly, as the tubes sucked the happiness from me. I felt certain that every drop of my blood, every cell, every vein and artery, were slowly being sucked into these tiny tubes, trying to devour every part of me until I'm nothing but a pile of skin on the floor.\n\nWhere else would happiness come from if not harvested from other people? Anyway, a job's a job.", "Every day I come to work and wonder just who's in charge. We changed CEOs more times then I have changed the oil in my truck but we still can't get it right. Maybe, just maybe this new guy will have the answer but I doubt it. They spend millions, no, billions and the process have been refined over and over for decades. We had and still have the best minds working on it and yet the result is still the same...happiness only comes in small doses. \n\nWhy cant we find the same success as Greed, that factory has been running full tilt for years churning out enough for millions of people every year. They have a running surplus they sell at a discount overseas but they still keep stockpiling more and more. Greed, rage, jealousy, all doing just great this year. I hear there was so much greed purchased by the banking industry last year that the factory was able to start a promotion by giving it away to anyone with a decent car and a job. \n\nBut happiness, where are we going wrong with this? Now matter how much we change the formula, add love, affection, friendship, it doesn't matter, no one is happy for any great length of time. The affect wears off with the first overdue bill or flat tire. Oh I've heard of a few people who created artificial happiness that lasted for years but research proved they were just abusing substances to only fool the brain into thinking it was happy. In the end those artificial substances caused so much damage, when the person finally came down, they were never happy again. \n\nSo maybe we should just stop trying so hard. I mean, a little happiness can go a long way especially if you get several doses throughout the day. Lunch with a friend, a good meal, a joke that really makes you laugh, all these things can add so much to life if we see them for what they truly are, moments of happiness. We need to stop trying to make happiness last forever. Even if we could, I don't think the human mind would even be able to handle it. \n\nIn the end I believe our company's main goal should not be to maximize profit on our product but instead to maximize access to it. We need to just keep making small doses of happiness but make sure they are available to as many people as possible as often as possible.", "\"So how's the new job there bud?\"\n\n\"Pretty great! I'm working at the new happiness factory.\"\n\n\"Oh man! What's it like? What do you do there?\"\n\n\"Well, it's like a lot of jobs.\"\n\n\"What do you mean? Like you have a lot of responsibilities? Lots of oversight over the production of mysterious sources of euphoria??\"\n\n\"No, like jobs as in handjobs. I give a lot of handjobs out.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\n\"Yeah, its pretty chill.\"", "\"The ignorant Man is the Happy Man!\" The neon Sign said at the Happiness Shop. The store clerk was a big man with a shaggy beard and long hair that was tied into a pony tail. He had a big smile on his face that never faded, never waned. He signed for the packages and commented that I looked a little down. He asked with that big grin if I wanted any \"stuff\" as he put it. I declined of course, workers of Happy Inc. are not allowed to try the products. That would be a breach of contract. He shrugs, takes out a personal syringe out of his pocket and picks up a packet of Happy Juice and goes to a backroom. God Damn junkies.\n\nI walk outside and head towards the van. It was nothing special, just a white van that I can store about twenty boxes of product. They are little buggers, and effective too. One little packet full of Juice can keep you going for 12 hours., but of course talking more allows for a greater effect. I hear soon Happy Inc. will be coming out with a new product that can be inhaled through powder instead of through injection. The higher ups told me I'll be able to deliver twice the amount. Good for the junkies, I guess.\n\nAs I got into the van a man came up to me beaming ear to ear with a nice suit on. \"Good morrow\" he tells me an hands me a little green pamphlet and walks away. Inside was instruction on how to see Jesus Christ. On Sunday at exactly 10 AM take three times the amount of Juice and stare at a blank wall for three hours. I tossed it outside and drove off, I still had three deliveries to make and was going to be behind schedule if I stopped to look for Jesus on a blank wall. I drove off, surrounded by smirks on all sides of me.\n\nPer usual I came to a bend in the road that had a very steep drop off. I wanted to slam my foot down on the pedal, let go of the wheel and fly into the ravine. But, that would be a breach of contract so I drove around it as I normally do to the next Happiness Shop with all the smiling junkies. It was the same thing in the next town over, I drop off the products, I refuse to partake, I get a pamphlet this time to find inner peace using meditation and Juice. That was the last packet and It is time to drive back to the factory. \n\nI pass by the bend one last time and decide to have stop and stare out into the ravine. One day, I think, One day I'll do it contact be damned. The ravine was full of solid white vans. I can smell the decay of death and spoiled Juice. One day I'll join them but today I have an ill wife to look after in the hospital, and she will have to join me to. I get back in my van and I drove to the factory. Tonight I will go home eat a bland dinner and sleep on the couch. Tomorrow I will get up and give the junkies what they want. Happiness. \n", "Today was a meeting that showed the success of the company. Although they were boring in most places, I always found these interesting. Since the company founded 50 years ago, the overall happiness of people improved immensely. Before that time, people were always miserable and complaining. But here, we were making a real difference.\n\n\"When our company was founded, we had a simple dream. Of making others happy. People were always complaining about different problems. While we couldn't fix the problems, now it didn't matter. Happiness could be shipped and enforced without worry. Our net happiness has never been greater, and our complaints have never been lower. Just last year, people bought the 2033 Happy Mind Maker, and have rated their happiness as 3000%! But now happiness is at 3150%.\", the video announcer said with a happy tone.\n\nOn the screen were people with very wide smiles showing the great success of our progress. Although we all knew there were still some out there who thought there was something wrong with being happy all of the time, we were happy to show how wrong they were every time. We knew there was no reason to complain about what we did, because it was clear happiness was the way to go on everything even if it meant death in the process. As our slogan goes, \"Have a happy life! Or else! Why not be happy?\"", "Everyone searches for what I hold in my hands.\n\nPast the fences and the locks and vault doors and the armed guards is the answer to what you are searching for. What you seek passes me by on a conveyer at ludicrous speed.\n\nI find it unsurprising that it's more than I can afford. Even the chipped or cracked ones are simply discarded or recycled rather than made available to someone like me.\n\nOh, it's not about money. Don't get me wrong.\n\nThe rich can be unable to afford Happiness as well as the poor.\n\nIt's not about literal wealth but instead \"personal wealth\".\n\nThere's a man in the middle of nowhere living with deer that uses up a lot of our Happiness supply.\n\nThere's a janitor that spends his life cleaning up after others who gets a fresh supply every day.\n\nIt's all about personal fulfillment or something.\n\nI just watch the bottles go by.\n\nThey're certainly nothing fancy. Simple glass jars with silver lids that hold a soft yellow essence.\n\nHappiness.\n\nIf only they knew how this stuff was made. I mean, you should see the Rage factory or even worse the Greed one. That place is a disaster zone.\n\nI'm not allowed to have the Happiness. I get Satisfaction instead. It's a little lesser but it's what I live for.\n\nI get to see the Happiness go to a young boy who just received that delicate first kiss on the cheek. The blushing, the heart pumping, the face splitting grin.\n\nOr a parent holding their newborn. Tears of Joy and the swelling Happiness.\n\nA new graduate about to step out into the world, Nervousness and Happiness coursing through every fibre.\n\nThe recipient of a new lease on life, promising to do better and loving every minute of life.\n\nI don't do much but what I do matters.\n\nI think if more people thought of it that way they'd be better off. Maybe they'd finally have enough for a little Happiness." ]

[ 2, 3, 3, 3, 3, 12 ]

[ "1423323134", "1423284330", "1423291555", "1423294618", "1423297288", "1423274562" ]

[ "\"Y'see, down there, beneath the trees.\"\n\nI pitched my phone sideways, utilizing the zoom to get a clearer picture. The dirt path wound along the edge of a steep gulley, so cheaply made that no one had bothered about safety rails or tarmacing. The only way to describe it would be quintessentially Martian- red sand path bordered by verdant foliage, trickles of water pouring down both cliffs surrounding it. \n\n\"It's almost too good. You sure that the fifth is coming this way?\"\n\nK'ierun nodded, \"If the intelligence we snatched was worth anything, then yes. I'm sure.\"\n\nReassured by this, I scrambled down the crosshatched rocks with backpack cautiously mounted on my stomach. Only the buzz of crickets and the bubbling of water below could be heard. \n\nI slipped a little, my foot catching on a cream coloured boulder implanted deep into the cliff-face. My adrenal glands opened up and gave me the wits to steady myself and continue the descent. Almost there. \n\nK'ierun wasn't far behind, using the shovel in his hands to slow the slide down to a safe level. Lungs crackling with apprehension, I survived the final scramble down onto the road. \n\nK'ier was brief, \"Keep your eyes on the road. We don't want anyone catching sight of us.\"\n\nI was taken aback by his calmness, \"What if we get caught?\"\n\n\"Don't ask questions like that. You know exactly what, but it doesn't matter 'cos why else would you have signed up to this? We're doing this for home.\"\n\nI nod, fears assuaged. Slightly.\n\nK'ier is amazingly quick with his digging. A hole big enough to fit a rabbit in has been created in the space of thirty seconds, and no one else has even bothered to screw up their plans by driving by. It's all going too smoothly. \n\n\"Convoy arrives in an hour.\"\n\nI nod, carefully emptying my rucksack of its contents. Four inconspicuous metal cases, all the size of a jam jar. My hands are shivering, I'm scared I'm going to drop them and screw it all up. K'ier grabs two and puts them in the hole, facing upwards. I deposit the next two.\n\n\"Activate them.\"\n\nMy fingers are really shaking now. I press the little button on the side of each one, \"That's five minutes K'ier- cover them.\" \n\nHe's even quicker concealing them, and with a light dusting of leaves on top there's no evidence of a hole being there at all. That'd be quick to change.\n\nIt was considerably easier climbing back up the hill, especially with no lethal devices strapped to my chest. We reached the top before the five minutes was even up- we even had time to find a better vantage point in the shade under a fir. I flicked my phone into camera mode to get a better view, but K'ier grabbed my arm to stop me, \"They'll see the glow. Turn it off.\" \n\nHe pressed the tempatch device into the tree beside us, rendering the two of us invisible to thermal cameras that the convoy was bound to possess. I hated this- hunted on my own planet. This was the only way to get back at them. Hell, carry a stick that looks too much like an assault rifle and you'll have nothing but a crater left after the EEF sees you.\n\nWe waited. The convoy took its sweet time- I almost ran when it passed the deadline, but K'ier reassured me that there may've been a hold up, like a tree fell on the road. So, we waited for five more minutes. \n\nThen we heard it. The unmistakable hum of an engine through the lazy evening air. I tried to see it through the orange haze, but it still hadn't rounded a cliff that obscured our view. K'ier was the first to catch sight of it. I could sense him freezing up, tensing. Then I saw it.\n\nA civilian vehicle, a minibus filled with a family on their way to Aeolis Mons. There was no conscious thought on my part, only the human emotion of empathy. I sprang to my feet, about to drop down onto the road when K'ier tackled me back to the ground, \"Don't be fucking stupid. We stop that car, they'll call the EEF.\"\n\n\"But if they detonate the mines then the EEF will come anyway!\" \n\nK'ier knew it too. Tears dripped onto my face, \"We're too late. We've failed.\"\n\nI saw the flash before I heard it- it lit up the side of K'ieran's face for the briefest of moments, before the shockwave pushed us onto our backs. Four mines, enough to annihilate a convoy instead wasted on a family going on holiday. I correct myself- they weren't wasted. The mines are replaceable. Families, not so much- We don't want to be like the EEF, with they're lack of concern for collateral damage. We may fight from the shadows, but we do it with honour. \n\nI didn't tell myself that on the day. I languished in agony, desperately trying to stop the whining in my ears. Then, moments later the tinnitus subsided and I went to check on K'ier. Before I touched him I knew he was dead. Blood had stained the dirt a darker hue of red, and holes pocked his shirt and skull. There was no time for grieving because it wasn't long before I could make out the purring of engines through the evening air.\n\n\n ", "We wake up in the night. Drones in the sky we cannot see laze our anti-aircraft and drop their incendiary bombs. The soil above us vibrates and dust hangs in the air obscuring everything. The bunker is filled with red fog and we cover our mouths with cloth to stop from coughing. Some of the grunts are coughing blood. Some of them recover from their fits and focus on securing the few things they have been allowed to keep at the head of their berths. The lights do not flicker, the concrete walls do not crack, the entire industry of Mars is invested in concrete and steel. Lasers and bombs. \n\nThe men and women in the bunkers count ration packs instead of days, when they are able to sleep a night, otherwise time passes in the minutes between waves of bombardment. We calculate by sausage day and by pasta day. Grunts joke that the food is better than they expected and then fall to sickness and screaming as the concussions steal their sleep and muffle the sounds of their thoughts until they claw out at the air like the blind. When the bombs spear into the bedrock they tear it apart, spewing the crumbs of our buildings into older craters as they dig for us. The drones never stop, taking turns to refuel and reload with their munitions, which arrive on drone ships and are distributed across hemispheres by drone men. The bombs fall all the way from Earth, the drones are at the end only targeting systems. We count our ration packs and officers take calls and make plans for when the bombardment ends. Earth tills the surface of Mars. \n\nOne of the grunts picks at the monsters in his skin and no one stops him. Many of the men and women wet the bed during their sleep shift and cause their successor to lie in the damp sheets or on the cold concrete with its layer of soft dust. No one speaks. Games are played on tablets until the eyes cannot focus and then in agitation we croak at each other and scrabble and bludgeon each other's heads into the concrete again and again until that too is boring and the offender is strung up and shot. The bombardment passes directly overhead and the concussions shake loose our belongings onto the floor. The dust rises up again with the ringing that sits in our ears. \n\nAt noon the weak sun lights the red pall in a frigid twilight. The dust encircles the globe and no one has seen the stars in three years. The focus of the bombardment shifts and pressurized troops climb out of holes to run for other holes from which troops have climbed. The drones see or do not see. Meat is flayed off bones or not flayed, strung out flesh battered in dust. Women return and men do not. Men return and women do not. None return. \n\nWe move twenty wounded to the nearest bunker with no casualties The medical centre there has supplies to treat them. The success is noted in the files and reported to central command and the officers store the notices of receipt for when the bombardment stops. Some bunkers are noted abandoned, impossible to resupply, and the officers make amendments to their plans to avoid them or to loot them. We rise from our holes and fall into theirs, breaking their helmets and firing at them as they fire at us. I lose my balance stepping in an open torso and crack a bone in my elbow. Screams and bullets and grenades fly over my head down the halls and they crawl out from all corners, mad with greed for life. One of them crawls at me and we are tangled, groping, grunting in the slick warmth of our compatriot until I stick him with my knife and pull his throat apart. His eyes open wide, staring into mine and in the noise he moves his mouth. He is lighter skinned than me and soft features. He has not had time to find a pressure suit, dying in his sweat and his underwear. I scramble forward to cover from which I can begin shooting at the rest of them again, breaking down their bodies in bony chunks and splashes. The fight ceases and the stench of explosives and ozone from the lasers hangs above the moans and distant kill shots. \n\nWe tear at cupboards and hug piles of ration packs to our chests until the drones turn their focus and then we run back across the craters. We have done well and the officers report our success to command. In sweat and bruises and scabbing blood we shiver on our beds and pick at our skin. Some pass into something like sleep. The sun passes under the hills in the west and the sounds of the bombardment move closer.", "“We’ll be in range in two minutes, ready?” Asked Jon. \n\nI looked up from the display anchored to the wall in front of me and taking a small hop floated down to the other side of the room. Mars was still in the way, but we were just about to clear the horizon, it had taken me nearly the entire seven hours to fix the darn cannon after what the Terrans had tossed at us knocking out the main power relays. Thankfully the Fusion core was buried far enough down that they would have to split the moon to hit it.\n\n“Ready, what’s out target?” I asked. \n\nJon looked at his targeting display. \n“Eastern Sea board of the North American continent. See if we get lucky and the anti-Ballistics systems miss a shot and we hit the command.” Said Jon. \n\n“My ancestors are from their, Washington CD they called it or something?” I said as I watched the capacitors tart to charge up. \n“D.C.” Said Jon. \n\n“Ah, alright. We’re charged you have a solution?” I asked. The cannons were for the most part fixed, only able to move a few degrees in either direction so we had to fire at the right time or we would miss our window. Renaldo and Katherine had missed on their last attempt and had hit the oceans of the Earth dampening the impact to nearly zero. Water was apparently very good at absorbing explosions. Unlike when the Terrans hit Mars. The Earthquakes could be felt for days after a lucky salvo as the planet reverberated. \n\n“Got it. Firing!” Said Jon. \n\nI glanced out the window and watched at the cannons in the base of Limtoc a good Kilometer away from us fired. Silently the massive magnetic rail guns fired off hunks of metallic derbies, mostly hulls of old ships and probes weighing in at just under a kilogram apiece at close to half the speed of light or so on a good day. The cannons stopped a moment latter the capacitors drained and the projectiles away. \n\n“When should we go down to the bunker?” I asked leaning backwards and letting my feet slip out of the footholds. The gravity on Phobos was close to weightlessness.\n\nJon scratched his head and glanced at his readout. “They won’t have a solution on us until the next orbit. We can wait and see if we get a hit in.” he said. \n\n“Think we’ll get past the defenses?” I asked. \n\n“Mark got one in yesterday, his a city in Europe somewhere.” He said. \n\n“It unbelievable that the Terrans still live on the surface. What with the pollution and the fire raining down on them their idiots not to go underground.” Said Jon. \n\n“You grew up in a cave Colony. The sun’s nice.” I said. \n\nJon rolled his eyes. “Bunch or radiation and extra light if you ask me. I couldn’t stand living in that domed city like you, one hole in it and poof you’re gone! It’s more dangerous than living like the Terrans!” said Jon.\n\nI shrugged. “I grew up in Armstrong Colony, it was designed by Terrans being the first colony the founders made.” I said.\n“Still idiotic.” He said. \n\nI nodded in agreement, it had been one of the first sites to go blasted into another crater when the Terrans started the War. \n“You hungry?” I asked turning to rummage through the cooler. \n“Sure, your wife make those wraps again?” Asked Jon. \n\n“For me, you got what you brought whatever this is.” I said pulling out his lunch which looked like old fashioned paste food. \n“Hey I like it, I just like those wraps better.” Said Jon. \n\nI pulled out the extra my wife had made and tossed it at him. Jon laughed and caught it. \n\nFloating off the floor occasionally moving my foot down to push myself back up I read through the news and chewed on my wrap waiting for the timer to go off. It took nearly twenty minutes for the slug to reach Earth and another 5 minutes for the light to get back to us confirming if we made a hit. \n\nJon yawned and absentmindedly checked the cannon diagnostics. \n\nThe alarm went off and the two of us looked up at the display, it was set to war us a few seconds before hand. \n\nWatching the magnified image of the Earth the two of us held our breath. Next to the blue water half way up the Easter coast of North America we could see the lights of the civilization in the night time shining. Until small chunks of the lights went dead, one after another in quick succession up the entire sea board. Jon and I glanced at one another. The defense gird had missed every one of our projectiles. \n\nThe computer monitoring the telescopes buzzed and spat out the casualty estimate. Nervous I glanced at it and swallowed my mouth suddenly dry. We had just ended the war, we were heroes. We had hit the Terran Command center. \n", " 0500\n Commence shift change\n Hygiene routines: complete\n Breakfast: complete\n\n NOTE FROM COMMANDING OFFICER TO BATALLION:\n \"Today is the day, Martians. Feel free to come in \n your pajamas if you care. They will call it \n something grander in a few hours, but for now\n it's just 'casual Friday.'\"\n____\n 0530\n Report to station\n Begin checklist run through.\n Error detected: Secure WIFI was not online\n IT Crew dispatched\n____\n 0600\n Secure WIFI reestablished\n Target list for shift one disseminated\n____\n 0700\n Commence First Shift\n SCHEDULED LAUNCHES...\n NONE\n INBOUND PROJECTILES...\n NONE\n OUTBOUND PROJECTILES...\n 79 ACTIVE\n TRACKING OUTBOUND PROJECTILES...\n\nCALLSIGN | TIME ELAPSED | ETA| TARGET | HIT\n---|---|----|----|----\nDIMPLES 85 | 6MO 5D 6H 25MI | 26 MI | NEW NEW YORK | NA\nDIMPLES 71 | 6MO 5D 6H 00MI |1 H| TOKYO III | NA\nDIMPLES 83 | 6MO 5D 6H 43MI | 00MI | SAN JOSE | CONFIRM\nDIMPLES 82 | 6MO 5D 6H 23MI | 00MI | NANJING | CONFIRM\nDIMPLES 91 | LOADING... | LOADING... | LOADING...| LOADING...\n____\n\n FURTHER INFORMATION REQUESTED \n PERFORMING CLEARANCE SCAN...\n REQUEST APPROVED\n PULLING REQUESTED INFORMATION...\n\nCALLSIGN | PAYLOAD | HIT | AV SPEED | SPEED ON IMPACT \n---|---|----|----|----|----|----|----\nDIMPLES 83 | TUNGSTEN | CONFIRM | 19,354km/h | 21,445km/h\n DEPARTURE STATION: OLYMPUS MONS SFB\n VIDEO STREAM LOADING...\n____\n 1200\n Commence shift change...\n Shift change routines overriden\n New routine established: \"NONE\"\n By order of: GOVERNOR GENERAL OF OXIA PALUS\n\n MESSAGE FROM COMMANDING OFFICER TO BATTALION:\n \"The war is over. I told you so. Drinks are on me.\"", "Ivan hadn't reached the cave entrance when the red sand started to tear at his head scarf. His gloved fingers tapped a button on the green tinted goggles he has wearing and they lit up with a display marking the path he needed to follow. Sand began to swallow his boots as he pressed further up the mountain. Eventually, he reached the rock with the special mark and lifted the heavy tarp blocking the entrance.\n\n\"You're late, Ivan,\" said Demetri, a dark-skinned man with bulging arms, who was searching through a pile of pipes and other assorted junk.\n\n\"I was shadowing a convoy,\" Ivan removing his head scarf and turning off the goggles. His skin had the same dark reddish tint as that of his comrade. \"The Earth crusaders have been moving a lot of troops south. I had to lay low after a pair of drones picked up my scent.\"\n\n\"I was wondering why you'd stayed out in that storm,\" Demetri said. Two pipes slid into place and a green light began to glow on the end of the newly assembled device. \"This one's ready. Go fetch some of the tea from the stove.\"\n\n\"Tea? Where'd you get that?\"\n\n\"Karkov boosted it from a Earth transport while he was planting the last package.\"\n\nIvan looked back at the glowing tube as he poured the steaming tea into a pair of mess tins. \"Is that one for him?\"\n\n\"Yes, a present for the tea,\" Demetri laughed as he took the warm tin from Ivan.\n\nIvan unshouldered the long rifle hanging on his shoulder and began to bash the buttstock on the ground as he sipped his tea with his free hand. Red dust rained off off the weapon and formed a pile on the floor.\n\n\"Gah, do that outside you barbarian! Were you raised on Earth?\" yelled Demetri as he threw a wrench at Ivan. He dodged the wrench like a Martian scout shakes off Earth drones in a sandstorm and fled out of the cave laughing and dragging his rifle behind him.\n\nThe sands outside were still and silent. Lifting a hand to shade his eyes from the blaring sun, Ivan looked down toward the glittering spaceport in the valley through the scope on his rifle. A cruiser started its slow descent towards a landing pad.\n\n\"Bang,\" the scout said as he pretended to shoot the cruiser from the sky. \"Soon, my friend, soon.\"\n\n" ]

[ 1, 2, 3, 5, 8 ]

[ "1423285786", "1423282351", "1423283400", "1423280541", "1423277462" ]

[ "The hull shook.\n\nSirens. Always the fucking sirens. Like every god damn person on this god dammed ship didn't already know when we were re-entering engagement. The whole of humanity is locked in one giant titanium re-inforced space coffin that begins to shake like it's been put to by a giant fucking space jack hammer and they still have fucking gall to blare the sirens.\n\n\"Captain, mark 2 has been neutralized\"\n\n-\"that's fan-fucking-tastic, get ready to round on mark 3 and 5. They're expecting us to run again and are withdrawing primary arms to chase\"\n\n\"Yes sir\"\n\n-\"and first leutenant. Can we please have someone disable that Christmas forsaken Buddha hated useless fuck alarm!?\"\n\n\"Um... of course sir\"\n\n10 years.\n\n10 years since we stole one of their ships. 10 years of that fucking siren.\n\n\"Mark 3 is down, mark 5 is fully armed\"\n\n-\"focus all primary artillery on their primary sensors, launch boarding crews, and prepare to run\"\n\n\"Yes sir\"\n\n10 years of limping away from 1 on 1 fights. Limping across unampped stars systems.\n\nWe were finally changing that. Today we were getting another ship.\n\n\"Boarding crews away\"\n\n-\"excellent, I'm going to meet my strike team. For all intents and purposes you are promoted to captain. And leutenant...\"\n\n\"Yes sir?\"\n\n\"Turn the fucking siren off\"\n\n\n\n\n", "When we discovered we were not alone we knew we might one day have to defend ourselves from an extraterrestrial attack. So the world's most powerful nations began to build a fleet of ships to protect the Earth and those living upon it. We never thought they would attack so soon, how could we have known they could cross space so quickly? All the construction yards orbiting Earth were destroyed, the fleet wiped out before it was even completed. All our means of defence gone, all bar one ship, the flagship of the fleet. Out on training manoeuvres at the time of the attack, the United Earth Ship Hope was now truly our last hope. It got one message from home; Earth was besieged, forced to surrender to the great alien force, a force who would use Humans as their slaves to build more ships to conquer even more of the galaxy. \n\nThe thing is, those alien invaders underestimated two things; Human creativity and Human stubbornness. We might be decimated and defeated but why would that mean we would give up? So long as one person lives that one person would fight for their freedom. We fought each other for millennia and now we had a common enemy to rise against. So the UES Hope headed for Earth, each and every member of its crew knowing the might not live to see next week.\n\nEach alien vessel was equivalent in offensive and defensive capabilities to the Human ship and they had far superior engines for speed over long distance. However the aliens had been too powerful and too dominant in there cluster of solar systems for too long. They had grown complacent with their prowess and reliant on their technology to win them wars. Humanities ship and its crew were fresh to it, all soldiers and scientists at the peaks of their careers and the best at what they did. The Humans used hit and run tactics and the closest equivalents to gorilla-warfare one could accomplish in space. Never giving up, never slacking in the fight to save their species. The alien armada's tactics were too rigid, too predictable, too stale. The Humans never tried the same trick too many times lest their enemy learn to counter it, constantly changing their approach to combat situations.\n\nEventually the aliens realised they were actually going to lose this fight. It was one against hundreds and the one was winning. Over a hundred alien vessels lost in two months and trouble on Earth to, constant uprisings across the globe, resistance forces cropping up every time they thought they finally had the humans under control. Who wouldn't these dub, soft beings realise they were outmatched and just concede!? So the aliens decide it was time to scorch the Earth and walk away. As the bulk of their force began to exit the solar system a few ships remained behind to pick up the remain forces from Earth lay waste to the planet and the Human race. However many of their forces failed to make it back on board, instead it was Humans who come onto there ships. Boarded, outnumbered and sure to die the aliens abandoned ship and followed the rest of their fleet in smaller emergency escape vessels.\n\n... Never bet against the underdog. \n\n\n((Sorry, I had such a strong feeling of what I wanted to start out with but then I kinda ran out of ideas and just had to tie it up any way I could.))" ]

[ 1, 1 ]

[ "1423307625", "1423321300" ]

[ "I knew those guys were just a scam to generate more ad revenue from serving up lists as a collection of different pages. I hated that site, even though I clicked through from time to time.\n\nI'm also a fan of Monty Python, specifically the killer joke. It was so over the top ridiculous that it made me laugh every time. I didn't know it was based on a real story.\n\nSo imagine me here. The guy who wanked to 2 girls 1 cup (which is tame, btw). I pop popcorn and watch liveleak videos. There's even a couple nice subs with cute dead girls. But *this* is what I stop myself from seeing? Really?\n\nMy hand hovers over the next button. The word on the net was the fifth panel was the cause of all the problems. And by problems, I mean deaths. And this was *real*. I've seen the reaction video on liveleak, the guy fell over dead! My curiosity was running overdrive, I grinned from ear to ear in anticipation of the scene that would soon flood my mind.\n\nThe lights flicker as I heard the crash outside. I cursed the bad luck but simultaneously knew there might be something wonderfully gruesome right outside my door. I leaped from my desk.\n\nA young lady was screaming from the backseat of the car, wrapped around a lightpost across the way, face covered in red. I stepped forward out of sheer curiosity. Sorry if I'm a misanthrope but my first thought was to see the carnage up close. I suppose I should have saved the girl right off. Either way I make it to the car and it's painted red from window to window, the driver's head was gone from the earlobes up.\n\nShe was inconsolable, and at last I had enough humanity to yank her door open and pull her out, letting her lean on the curb. In between sobs and cries to God I heard her say it. Buzzfeed.\n\nHoly hell. I have to see that page now.", "I'm told that Buzzfeed used to be known for dumb click-bait, especially the use of slide-shows to split a small amount of content over the largest number of pages. If only that had remained the worst of their crimes!\n\nI believe it was in 2018 that neuroscientists began using a new super-high-resolution fMRI that revolutionized their understanding of how human brains responded to stimuli. As any student of human behavior would predict, one of the first practical applications were videos containing flashing lights and tones that cause viewer to get a mild high. And Buzzfeed, in their insatiable hunger for page-views, began distributing these videos.\n\nIn retrospect, the end result was inevitable. A certain group of sociopaths created, stole, or otherwise procured a video with a certain side effect and began putting it up on sites frequented by people who annoyed them. When people began to drop by the tens of thousands, totally brain dead for no apparent reason, it took precious days to determine that they had all watched the same video hours earlier. The video had gone viral almost instantly; it spread because it had an effect that was reputed to be amazing and completely indescribable to anyone who hasn't experienced it.\n\nAnd it really, really is. So, in conclusion, everyone should totally go check out Buzzfeed! Their current featured video is the best thinnkllm;,';\n" ]

[ 1, 1 ]

[ "1423336768", "1423355567" ]

[ "You can't be serious?\n\nOf course I can.\n\nI mean... fine... okay I'll start your chruch... do I at least get a power as a disciple or something? Some way to spread your good... er... your word?\n\nI suppose you want wings or something... hmmmm... you can now tell if someone is lying to you and are able to show others the truths they hide... that's about all I can do...\n\nWhat!? Seriously??? That's incredible. I promise you Honest Abe the church of truth will be built of honesty and trust. Thank you for this gift.\n\nNo problem... also you um... can't lie... er... enjoy!\n\nI can't lie? What? I... fuck.\n\nI turn and walk back into my office in the Pentagon. Guess I had to retire soon anyway.", "\"How do you do Sir? And quite where have you just come in from?\" I asked the stranger with a softly perceptible unease that tangled discordantly with the typical unimportance of such a question. Then a sly, mordant smile interrupted my features at the notion of inexplicability that I had surrounded this gentleman's entrance with; for his response would, doubtlessly I assumed, restore the quotidian order of things and soothe my frivolity of imagination.\n\nHe responded with a voice that did not gratify my expectation of normalcy, but instead magnified my disquiet into a turmoil: his voice was simultaneously mellifluous and harsh; he spoke with a tonal fullness that implied sound imperceptible and, also, meanings beyond those the words themselves that he provided could convey: \"I see that you have a fluvial grain about your conversation: forcefully bearing to your destination, sloshing sedimental deposits whither they rest. I wish you a more lacustrine disposition in your future remarks: a breadth, a body of stillness and depth, and I have no doubt that you will develop such a character.\" He gave the impression of leaning in so as to more heavily add the final: \"And that such a character would develop You.\" But in all my recollections I truly cannot say that he did lean in nor that to do so is even something that I could imagine him to be capable of doing: the best that I could say is that his voice itself leant in, such was the promise of that final intonation: a cast-gold guarantee of an unstated desire's satiation. \n\nShaken, as I was, I mustered the measured but brimming reply \" I see, and how do you suppose I shall develop this character?\"\n\n\"Why, through Damnation of course!\" he roared, and in this paronomastic eruption I sensed a shift, for in his humour and volume he had brought my mind back from the contemplative wonder it was succumbing to and grounded it in our exchange; an exchange, it would seem, the terms of which had been clarified beyond necessity and now were simply requiring comprehension. We parted.\n\nIn my task of comprehending I quashed a disdainful apathy towards this verbose and pompous relic, and, instead, indulged a nascent, curious adoration. I had now determined to allow myself to undulate to this man's charm. Like a beguiled snake of Arabian lore: I would serpentine to stillness. \n\nI abstained the desire to pursue this enigma at the level of its obvious manifestation, and to attempt to force Chance to deliver a chance encounter with the gentleman. I endeavoured, instead, to meditate upon the exchange and, in doing so, to allow my musings to ripple ever outward and so meet the shore of his bank: that bank of wisdom and promise! that I saw him to be. I resolved to meander ever inward into this recollection and so to push its ever-expanding mass ever outward, expecting its advance to inevitably brush upon His embrace at some indeterminate place. \n ", "Last night I hit God with my car. \n\nI was backing out of my driveway when I felt something large below the tires but did not stop in time to avoid rolling over it with a sickening ***Thud*** \n\nMy stomach pin-wheeled as I gingerly put the car in park to see what I had hit. I had barely stepped foot outside the car when a tall, lanky teenager bounced up to meet me.\n\n\"Ahh!!!\" I gasped. \"Are you okay?\"\n\nHe brushed back the shaggy, chestnut hair falling across his face to meet my concerned gaze. Inquisitive green eyes surveyed me before looking down at a dark, red stain that was quickly expanding across his thigh.\n\n\"Shit! That looks bad - we need to get you to a hospital!!\" Hearing the shrill urgency in my voice, he grinned, amused.\n\nNo, I don't think that will be necessary. But may I sit for a moment inside your house?\"\n\n*Drugs?* I pondered to myself. *Why else would someone hemorrhaging blood be so resistant to the hospital?* \n\n\"I'm not on drugs and I'm not even bleeding anymore. Look here.\" \n\nMy eyes widened at his quick response to words I was certain I had not said aloud. One look at his leg confirmed that the pair of jeans that had been rapidly soaking up blood a moment ago was now reversing its course somehow - expanses of faded, blue cloth were spreading to replace the wet, red stains until, within seconds, no trace of the wound remained.\n\n\"What the hell?\"\n\n--\n\n5 minutes later the disheveled teenage was resting his no-longer-bloody legs comfortably on my couch while I perched on a piano stool, hands gripping either side in case I was to witness more medical miracles.\n\n\"What's your name?\" He asked abruptly. \n\n\"Jennifer. Jennifer Abramson.\" \n\n\"Jennifer! Thank you - it's nice to meet you. I am a nascent God of this Universe.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry?\" I asked incredulously. \n\n\"I am a divine being who you humans refer to as a God. I am nascent, meaning recently born, thus my human form at the moment.\"\n\n\"If you're God how did you not know my name?\"\n\n\"Again, limitations of my current form. It seemed easier to ask you than to seriously challenge this shell's sub-standard cognitive functions by identifying your name through other means.\" \n\nI stared, mouth hanging slightly open. \n\nMistaking my bewilderment for injury, he quickly added, \"sub-standard, compared to a God's manner of being, of course - compared to many other things on this planet your cognitive skills are quite... splendid.\"\n\nIn a conversation which was more confusing with every sentence, there was one thing that I was sure of - he did seem quite.... other-worldly. Like a distant tourist who had studied human beings, but had no practice interacting with them. \n\n\"So are you **THE** god?\" \n\n\"I am **A** God - there are many. Which is why I wanted to speak to you, Jennifer. You see a new age is rising. My age. I'm about to join my brothers and sisters in …\" he pauses and shakes his head, re-considering. \n\n\"Never mind you wouldn't know where that is…. But anyway I'm about to join them and make my mark on our universe. But, before I do, it's important that I have as much support from lower life forms as possible. Since we ran into each other anyway, it seemed a divine opportunity to enlist your services.\"\n\n\"My services?\" I continued staring, dumbfounded.\n\n\"Yes.\" He said crisply, slight annoyance flashing across his face at my apparent ignorance. \"You see, many other Gods have an established following - Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, they all have a massive advantage in terms of their established audiences, particularly on Earth. I need to reach more people. But I need a human's help to do it.\"\n\n\"Me?\"\n\n\"Yes, very good!!\" He exclaimed, overjoyed at my comprehension. \"I could make it worth your while if you agree to bring as many masses to worship me as you can.\"\n\n\"Worth my while… could my family and I be guaranteed spots in Heaven?\" I held my breath, awed by the gravity of the negotiation that we were speeding through in half the time I spent researching my average EBay purchase. \n\n\"No.\" He said dismissively. \"There is no heaven. I'm not sure why that's such a misconception, but there's never been one. You all would really be quite uncomfortable where we divinities reside. It's much better for you the way things work now.\"\n\nMy chest tightened and I rose from my stool and began pacing. He watched quizzically, tolerating but not endorsing what he seemed to perceive as childish behavior.\n\n\"Anything else you want though! I'm still finding my domain, obviously - but, ummm… I could make you a new animal and….and .... name it after you! I'd say I could kill your worst enemy for you, but I don't want to promise something I can't deliver on if there are political considerations once I get home. I could give you the option for immaculate conception - that's kind of cool, right?\"\n\nI stared blankly, overwhelmed. He seemed to read this as feigned disinterest - a clear indication that I would be no pushover just because this was a negotiation with God.\n\n\"Look, I'm just spouting off, I'm exhausted and barely even know what I'm saying. But rest assured, I am immensely powerful and can help you achieve your wildest dreams in this world. There's no rush on deciding what those are. Just tell me you'll help me - tell me you'll spread the word and do your best to bring as many humans as possible to worship me. If you can promise me that, we have a deal.\"\n\nI stopped pacing and turned, stared coolly at his hopeful face. \"How many people do you want me to bring you? And how exactly do I go about doing that? I don't even know what to tell people about you - what is it you want people to believe? What are the …the tenets of your religion?\"\n\n\"Oh.\" He paused, considering my question. His eyes clouded with uncertainty for a split second before he snapped upright decisively.\n\n\"You know what? I'm not really that worried about all the details - you would know what humans find most meaningful, most moving. Just do whatever that would be. And, the same goes for how you spread the word. I'm sure if you do some brainstorming, you'll think of something. Twitter? Maybe Tweet it? And remember, I can send help or fulfill your wishes at any time, as long as our agreement stands.\"\n\nSuddenly he crossed to the front hallway, heading for the door. I guess silence is as good as assent? \n\n\"Wait!!!\" I yell desperately as he reaches for the front door. With one exasperated eyebrow arching upwards, he turns to me, impatient.\n\n\"Why are you doing this? Is there some great war between the gods? Should we be afraid?\"\n\nHis boyish features soften in amusement. \n\n\"No! Nothing like that. It is very serious though - we have an annual contest. Whoever has the most followers gets a little certificate and some extra privileges. It's definitely a big deal and I have to come in strong to have a chance.\"\n\n\"So thank you, Jennifer for your help\" he winked, and then, with the stilted enthusiasm of a bad actor delivering a commercial catchphrase, concluded:\n\n\"I'll be watching over you!\"", "\"Okay. Okay. This is a little hard to swallow.\"\n\nThe man seems annoyed more than anything else. \"You *just* watched diseased beetroots fall from the sky while I rapped. What more do you want?\" He makes a crude gesture and, ten feet away, a pigeon finds itself on its back.\n\n\"It's just… a god of terrible puns? Really? And besides, why would you only come into existance *now?* Puns are old. Bad puns are old.\"\n\n\"Oh, I'm not the first pun-god – and, if you don't help me, I won't be the last. An un-worshipped god dies. A god that was never worshipped simply ceases to exist. And the last couple millennia have been… unkind to newborn gods.\" He twitches a little as he says that.\n\n\"So. What's in it for me? I'm not totally clear what benefits supporting a pun-god could possibly have.\"\n\n\"Oh, plenty, I assure you. Imagine if you could never be caught off-guard in conversations. Always have a quick retort ready. Even if you're losing an argument, the ability to lose with style and panache. You humans are so scared of embarrassment, I'm surprised my predecessors didn't stick around.\"\n\n\"This is a terrible idea, but… fine. I'll try to drum up some worship for you.\" Wordlessly, my new deity hands me a bongo.", "Cheryl was having a quiet cup of coffee on her lunch break when a man asked if the second seat at her table was taken. She wasn't enjoying her crossword and welcomed the prospect of a conversation. He didn't look like a crazy person. He was well dressed, well fed and had excellent posture. If there were to be an earthly incarnation of a god in the 21st century, this is probably what it would look like. Of course it was ridiculous, but she decided to play along. \n\n\"You really expect me to believe that you're a god?\"\n\n\"I know that it seems like a ridiculous claim in this day and age, but if you humour me, I can make it worth your while.\"\n\n\"I'd be interested to see some evidence of your divinity.\"\n\n\"I'm afraid I can't do that. I don't have any power yet.\"\n\n\"If you don't have any powers, what exactly makes you a god?\"\n\n\"It's my nature. I have the capacity to become as powerful as any other god, but I need adherents to give me strength.\"\n\nHe certainly seemed more down to earth than she would have expected a god to be, but she had no intention of getting sucked into a cult. \n\n\"Which god are you even supposed to be?\"\n\n\"I'm me. All the other god jobs are already taken. I'm new.\"\n\nThere was an almost otherworldly charm to the man. He didn't seem particularly articulate or intelligent, but there was something about his eyes that made his bizarre claims almost believable.\n\n\"I'll need some animal or crop sacrifices to get me started of course. That's how all the big guys got going. Once you have enough followers, you can thrive on just prayer and belief, but they all needed a kickstart in the beginning. You can really get a leg up with a human sacrifice, not much staying power though.\n\n\"If you could give me a hand here, I'd see you well looked after in the long run. My first devotee would have pride of place in my church. It doesn't have to be anything big, just a little alter, or even some prayers would help.\"\n\nThe conversation was starting to take a turn down crazy street and in-spite of the handsome stranger's je ne sais quoi, Cheryl was starting to become visibly uncomfortable. Perhaps the man was the god of social cues, because he rose and picked up the unfinished half of his strawberry parfait. \n\n\"Well, there is a Neil Gaiman signing this afternoon and I think I might find a receptive audience there. Thanks for your time.\"\n\n***\n\nCheryl didn't think of the handsome stranger again until hours after she got home that evening. She was making a week's supply of greek salad when the lunchtime conversation returned to her mind. Cutting onions was always the worst part of making a salad, but if she lit candles on the counter, her eyes didn't sting as bad. \n\nThe tableau on and around her cutting board reminded her of the man's entreaty. On the spur of the moment, she took up a bell pepper and laid it between her two candles. Thinking of the man, she crushed the pepper under her fist and dumped it into the garbage. \n\nNothing happened. Feeling rather silly, she finished making her salad, one pepper short. She was gladder than usual that she lived alone. \n\n***\n\nHaving struck out at the Neil Gaiman signing, the man was heating up a can of baked beans on his camp stove. He ate leaning agains the rear side door of his 1996 Dodge Caravan, when he felt a tingle. \n\n\"That's a start.\"" ]

[ 1, 1, 3, 4, 5 ]

[ "1423396993", "1423417931", "1423412838", "1423396010", "1423399198" ]

[ "\"This... It's amazing.\"\n\n\"Uhh, how exactly does it work?\"\n\n\"No idea - but if we could adapt the transforming capabilities of Aeogen to say, steel, or maybe more advanced things like medicine... The possibilities. There would be no scarcity. The world would become utopia in no time.\"\n\n\"I'll get some equipment ready, you get into contact with management. We'll be promoted. I guarantee it!\"\n\n\"Don't drop the Aeogen, now.\"\n\n\"Hahah, that would be fu... Oh fucking shit...\"\n\n\"You didn't. No no no. We can stop it, can't we? You might have doomed the human race, Tim.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry... It wasn't...\"\n\n\"Sorry isn't enough... Unfortunately.\"\n\n\"It was bound to happen anyway, wouldn't it? A tiny accident was bound to happen, right?\"\n\n\nAnd then everybody died. The end.", "\"I'm sorry, this line is for national emergencies only. I am going to hang up, now, and there will be repercussions if you call again.\"\n\n\"BUT THIS IS A\" - click. The line went dead. \n\nChristina was hyperventilating a little bit. \"They didn't believe us, either.\"\n\nThe other scientists were striking out all around her - Tim got off the phone with 911, shaking his head. Marcie was still on the phone with the NSA main line, but shortly, that phone call, too ended badly. The only person still on the phone was Craig, who had gotten a hold of the scientists at their sister organization in Japan. Christina didn't speak Japanese, but it sounded from his urgent tone as though at least someone was listening. \n\nBy now they were in the hallway, the Aogen having solidified all the air in the lab in a matter of hours. As the Aogen multiplied, its rate of expansion increased. At this rate, the surrounding city would be in danger in no less than a day.\n\nThey were on their own. \n\n\"Ideas?\" asked Tim, who was visibly pale. The room was silent for at least ten seconds. Then someone said it.\n\n\"There's always the control measure.\" Marcie said it calmly, but they all knew what it would entail - one of them would have to die to contain this disaster, because there was no way to eliminate the oxygen in the building and make it out alive. The distance from the main computer and the exit was too great. It was meant to be a temporary measure to put out fires - no one had expected that there would be a need to eliminate oxygen from the building for longer than ten seconds or so.\n\nSilence.\n\n\"I'll do it\" Craig and Tim both said at once, and then looked at each other. \n\nChristina took a deep breath. \"No. We have to at least try other things first. And I am the head scientist here, if anyone is going to activate the control measure it should be me. We still have access to the secondary lab - lets spend all the time we can trying to come up with a way to neutralize the Aogen, and then when we have to evacuate, we'll talk about the control measure.\"\n\nThey quickly went to work. One hour passed. The wall of Aogen, blue like ice, crept closer to the hallway where they were. Still they had no way of countering it. Three more hours passed, and they became nervous as the Aogen was advancing ever faster towards their position. It occurred to all of them that the window didn't open, but they had chemicals capable of melting it if the mass of ice like Aogen blocked the door. They continued to work on a way to stop the Aogen, growing more desperate by the minute.\n\nAfter seven hours, they finally had to evacuate the lab. The rate of expansion had increased - they would have to stop it.\n\n\"What about scuba equipment?\" Craig said suddenly.\n\n\"Of course!\" Marcie exclaimed. \"Does anyone know how to use it?\"\n\nSilence again. Everyone present classified themselves as a \"nerd\" and tried to avoid athletic activities like it was their religion. \n\n\"Well, maybe we can find someone who can. Surely there's some kind of scuba store in this city...\" Marcie pulled out her smartphone. Sure enough, there was a scuba shop five miles away.\n\n\"Lets go.\" Said Craig. There wasn't any time to waste - in a matter of hours the Aogen would be outside the building, and there would be no way to stop it.\n\nThey called the scuba shop on the way. The 16 year old running the counter was a lot easier to convince than the government, and when they arrived, he was waiting for them out front with a big black bag full of gear. He hopped in the car no questions asked, and they did an illegal U turn right in the middle of traffic and headed back to the lab, top speed.\n\n\"You know how to use this stuff?\" Marcie asked the teen in route. \n\n\"Of course. That's how I got my job.\" He replied.\n\n\"None of us know how. We need you to shut off the oxygen in the lab, wearing your scuba gear so that you can breathe when the air gets cut off. It's a huge building - you'll need to walk for at least five minutes before you can exit. Is that a problem?\" Marcie asked.\n\nHe shook his head. \"No, I can do that. There's plenty of oxygen in these tanks, I checked back at the store.\" He seemed almost elated with excitement. Nothing this cool had ever happened to him before, and he couldn't wait to tell his friends.\n\nThey arrived back at the lab, and the kid began putting on the equipment. \n\n\"Wish me luck\" he said, and walked into the building. \n\nThe scientists waited outside. Five minutes passed, then ten. Christina began thinking that he should have been back by now, or that maybe their instructions for how to turn off the air supply to the building hadn't been specific enough and that he'd gotten into an accident. Then he emerged unharmed.\n\n\"I did it!\" he exclaimed. \"The Aogen has stopped multiplying!\"\n\nThey laughed. They cried. They turned on music on their smartphones and danced badly. This was the scene that greeted the Japanese scientists when they pulled up in their rental car an hour later. When they got out of the car, Marcie, drunk on happiness now that the crisis was over, kissed the first one to approach square on the mouth. He didn't seem to mind.\n\n\"Thank you for coming,\" she said." ]

[ 2, 2 ]

[ "1637727934", "1423428813" ]

[ "\"Look, you have to give it up, the simulation has run on far too long, we'll have to start again, they just haven't learnt. It's time to end it, it'll be quick, just turn it off. We've failed.\" It wasn't right to do this, he could feel it, but he was the only one who could stop this failure. He had started it all those years ago, but he was young, how was he to predict this failure. \n\"They've only been learning for a short amount of time maybe we could let them continue, redemption is surely not that far away!\" Even as the words came out of his mouth he knew he was lying. They had got everything wrong. The destruction, the war, the uncaring nature. Sure there had been a few successful stories but in their short span their impact was minimal. The aim of this simulation was to get a society rich in learning and humans weren't the right species for that. With a sigh he nodded and willed the sun to stop burning. \n\"That's better, come on we need to start on a new design.\" With that, the panic below him was catastrophic, but this was their fault. It looked like he was going to have to start a new simulation, hopefully with a species that would learn. Even now they were turning to their 'Gods', considering the reality, it was almost laughable to him.", "\"Pay attention to what i'm going to say\" Frank said.\n\nI listened.\n\"I want you to go to the shop for me.....\" he said, his eyes glistening.\n\"Yeah?\" I replied.\n\"...and buy me a packet of cigarettes\".\nI went to the shop and got his cigarettes and put them on the table before him.\n\"Thank you\" mumbled Frank.\n", "There's a man in white laying next to me in the alley tonight, I can't feel my heart, I need to wake up. I know the man, he brings me toys. He watches me at night. He likes it when I sleep, and I like it when he watches. I see him when I dream, and he comes with me in my dreams, but only to watch. I asked the man once, I thought he was lonely you see, \"Why sir? Why do you like it when I sleep? \n\n\"Well child, I like to watch over you. I can't do that if you're awake now can I?\n\n\"Well.. I guess not.\"\n\n\"You see child! Your friend is only here to help you, and if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to see you wake up sometime. We all have to be free to walk about in the sunshine, like the other little children, barefoot in the sand on hot summer beaches or next to parents on long evening strolls through the park. Could you do that for me?\n\n\"I guess. But when will I see you again?\n\n\"We all have to come back to the alley, everyone comes here to see me sometime, every day people from all around come to see me! Someday I would love to see you here again. And we can take a walk to anywhere you want to go! But not now. Child, I need you to wake up.\n\n\"But I don't wanna! I wanna see the park with you, and feel the sand between my toes! \n\n\" Then wake up! Wake up for me child, and I promise, one day you can see me again. We'll take a walk to a place you'll never want to leave. But not this day, it isn't your time.\"\n\nCLEAR!\n\nMy heart thudded, I felt a brush of cold air against my bare shoulders. \n\nCLEAR!\n\nMy heart thudded again, and this time I could see, I could feel again! A doctor leaned over me with the handles of the defibrillator, the light blinded my eyes and blurred his figure.\n\n\"She's back! She's back! Get the surgeons! Put her under anesthesia, we need to treat the wounds before she dies of blood loss! \n\nThen I fall into blackness, I can't see anymore, but when I wake up again, I'm in a bed. I can hear a heart monitor beat next to me and the nervous tapping of a foot in the chair next to my bedside.\n\n\"Anna?\" the man said, as he noticed me coming to.\n\n\"Hey Joey, I've missed you.\" I told him. \"Are those flowers for me?\"\n\nA lovely bouquet of daffodils rested next to me, Joey knew they were my favorite.\n\n\"Anna, you're alive! We thought we lost you, your heart stopped when we brought you here. Are you alright? Do you need anything?\"\n\n\"Joey what happened?\n\n\"You were driving home from work when a driver fell asleep at the wheel on the opposing lane, he hit you pretty hard.\"\n\n\"Am I in the hospital?\"\n\n\"Yes, you might not if you had worn your seatbelt, Anna, I told you to be more mindful of that! It's dangerous, but I guess I shouldn't need to remind you anymore should I?\"\n\n\"Yeah I guess.\"\n\nI tilted my head towards a window, and I could see it. The sunshine falling onto the warm shores of Miami Bay. I could see the endless blue sky, and the clouds drifting carelessly on the wind, and for a period of time, I watched them float across my window and out of my sight.\n\n\"I got you the room overlooking the bay. I know how much you love it.\"\n\n\"Do you think we can go there soon?\"\n\n\"Soon as you get out of the hospital\"\n\n\"I want to walk with you across the sandy shore, hand in hand with you Joey, I want the waves to run up to my ankles and smell the breeze of the ocean air again.\"\n\n\"Anna..\"\n\n\"Can I walk?\"\n\n\"What happened when you died?\"\n\n\"I met an angel.\"\n\n\"What did he tell you?\"\n\n\"That someday I'll have to see him again. And on that day, he'll take me far, far, away from here. I want to go to the beach\"\n\nShockingly, I could still walk. No pain, nothing. The doctors called it a miracle. Joey took me, we left together and went to see the beach again. It never seemed so beautiful to me as it did before. We left Miami and found a nice quiet place, with no one else there, and spent all day walking around the shore, until the fiery Florida sunset sank, and the stars poked themselves through the night sky. We watched them come about, and I've never seen such beauty as I did, lying next to Joey, watching the midnight sky. The man in white was right. I needed to wake up.\n\n\nEdit 1: Whoops, almost left out the most important part. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n\n\n\n\n\n", "'It was a cheap shot, but lethal?! I thought the word meant something different. I didn't expect him to react like that,' I exclaimed. \n\nShe was unmoved, as was he.\n'Look', I said, trying to bring her round, 'he made his bed, and now he'll lie in it for a while. The naughty chair is outdated and a tad harsh, anyway.' \n'16 years old. You've gone soft', she muttered. \n'Everyone knows the naughty chair gives the kid some physical pain, as well as all this emotional shit he's gone through. Especially since we put a spike in it. 16 and you want me to treat him like that', I tried to explain myself, but there was no point.\n\n'You've changed' she said, disappointedly. 'You used to be different'. The words stung my ears and pierced my heart. \n\nI told her to fuck off, whilst I dealt with the corpse.", "I don’t want you to feel like you sold out with me, I tried my best at the time we were together. It’s just when we met I wasn’t sure what this was going to be. It felt very contrived from the beginning. I’ll admit that, because there’s no reason for me not to. I thought that you had yourself really well put together. And it honestly felt weird for me to not at least pretend like I was the same. I think you saw behind the façade but you just skated past that. I think you skate past everything like that in your life. \n\nAnd I really didn’t want things to end the way they did because it’s not like you deserved it at all. And I know it hurt and that’s not what I was going for. I’m not the most sensitive guy. I think we’ve gotten at least that much out of the way. And you, you’re just so attuned to things, there was no way I couldn’t be walking on egg shells around you. If I let you know how much of a shit show it all actually was, well that just wouldn’t have ended well. \n\nI really hope things are going well for you though, because they really weren’t with me. Remember that night in early May I think? I really messed up that night and you were so upset and things were not going okay for either of us. So really, I owe you the world. Anything you need to make this right. I can get you connections in LA now that you’re out there if you need. \n\nYou were a great partner and I did you wrong by not being honest with you. And I really haven’t found a better drug mule in a while and I’m sorry if it feels like I was using you man. Cause, I have nothing but respect. \n\n", "Relevant post here.\n\nhttp://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2v6puw/wp_the_first_sign_you_ever_saw_of_the_singularity/cohtf8s", "I saw the light in the end of the tunnel.\n\nI didn't want it to end.\n\n\"I wanna go back! That's the wrong way!\" I shout, no I scream. But nobody answers. \n\nThe light is getting closer and is growing quickly.\n\n\"No, take me back! Turn around!\" I scream again louder. I don't want it to end.\n\n\"Hold him down.\" A fierce voice insists.\n\n\"NO!\" I scream as she light reaches us.\n\nI struggle to turn around, to go back, but a hand is holding me down, pinning me in place.\n\n\"Go back!\" I insist, but still I am ignored. \"I wanna go again!\"\n\n\"No honey, we're going home now, now calm down or we'll leave you at the side of the road.\" Moma threatens. She's mad. I stare at her back angrily, still held down by Papa's hands, I'm planning my revenge. I *will* get back to that tunnel. I swear that one day, I will.", "\"There's no one here who can help you!\" The nurse screamed at me.\n\nI don't know why she said that, I didn't need help. I just stopped in from the rain. Maybe she just didn't want any unwelcome guests, to put it. \n\nI rushed out of that hospital and back into the rain, she really scared me. I wandered around the city, the clouds now totally darkening the cityscape. The only lights being the streetlights and the flashes of lightning.\n\nI don't know where I was walking to, I didn't really have a plan. I'd just been evicted from my apartment and had no where else to go. My friends had been long gone by now, I was getting too old. \n\nI wonder where my wife is now? Heaven? She never told me where she was going forty years ago, but I could use the support now, even if it was half-hearted like she so insisted all those years ago.\n\n*There's no one here who can help you!*\n\nI ducked into a bar to get some shelter from the storm and was promptly thrown out. This whole city must be going mad. Who treats people this way? Even a stranger wouldn't be met with such revulsion. \n\nI walked back down the street, finding no comfort. I stood underneath a doorway of a closed Chinese buffet. I looked at the passing people. There was a young girl with her parents running inside a building. Wait a few moments... they weren't thrown out. There were a couple of a homeless guys in the alley across the street fighting over something, no one even glancing their way. \n\nI slid down the door and landed on the cement. I didn't know what to do. Why to even fight it any more. I'm an eighty-two year old man! This isn't where I should be! Why, dammit! \n\nI hung my head in my hands and cried then. I heaved a bit and when I looked back at the street there were people crowding around. I heard the congregation speak all at once:\n\n**There's no one here who can help you!**", "It was the first time I saw my Tiger running down the driveway. \n\nHe was sprinting as though he was finally the prey.\nIt was most likely due to the fact that I finally understood his life.\n\nHe had captured many birdies, but hardly ever grasped an eagle. That was more than enough for him to become victorious. Many may describe him by his walk, as they never see him run, but his hunt is what brought him to be running. \n\nAnd I would much rather see him running frightened than walking stealthily. \n\n For I am the wife of Tiger Woods. ", "He gets me. He just, gets me. \n\n\nWhen I met Michael, I knew that there was just something different about him. He wasn't like most guys I had been around. \n\n____________\n\n\nI grew up in a small town in Eastern Missouri. We never had very much, but my sister and I never really seemed to notice. \n\n\nDad worked construction and was gone for long periods of time, and mom worked at a little restaurant that we got to go see her at every day. She said the manager didn't mind because it was nice having younger people around. \n\n\nMom worked the day shift and, except for lunch time, there were typically only old people there. I think having my sister and I at a booth made the place feel a little more alive. \n\n\nThere were days though, that my sister couldn't go. \n\n\nAmanda was three years older than I was, and because of that she got to go spend time at her friends' houses whenever someone invited her to. \n\n\nMom had said that it was because she knew that Amanda wouldn't get in trouble or act like a little kid, and that I would get to someday. \n\n\nI didn't really mind going to the restaurant without her at first. Mom always gave me paper to draw on and sometimes I'd bring a doll or two. \n\n\nThe manager would always bring me a dessert from the case if I wanted to. He'd sit with me while I ate it and ask what sort of things I thought he should put on the menu for tomorrow's specials. I'd guess about things that I thought grown ups would like, but I think more than anything he was humoring me. \n\n\nMom would check on me occasionally, but mostly she just kept to her section and let me mind my own business. \n\n\nI met Michael at the restaurant. \n\n\nThe day we met, he was there with his parents. It was a Sunday. The church crowd was filing in for the lunch time rush. I don't know how long he had been there before I noticed that he kept staring at me, but when I caught him doing it, he smiled and looked embarrassed. \n\n\nHe had a really nice smile. \n\n\nHe didn't talk to me the first time I saw him at the restaurant, but I sure started to notice him there a lot more after that first day. \n\n\n\nOne day, he eventually worked up the courage to talk to me. He had excused himself from his parents' table to go to the bathroom, but he took a detour by me. I had been drawing a picture of some girls from a show I had seen that morning, and he told me how good of an artist I was. He said that he liked to draw a lot too, though he mostly drew animals. \n\n\nHe asked me how come I got to come to a restaurant by myself since I wasn't old enough to be out on my own. I think a part of him was jealous. I didn't have to sneak away from my parents or pretend to go to the bathroom to do my own thing. \n\n\nI told him how my mom worked there, and how on the days that my sister was out with friends I got to spend the day keeping myself entertained. He thought that was cool. \n\n\nHe was the first boy to ever make me feel special. \n\n\nWe didn't talk long that first day because he was supposed to be going to the bathroom, but the more I started to see him there, the more I started to learn about him. \n\n\n\nThe manager would sometimes ask me about him. I always got the feeling that he didn't like Michael. He had teased me so many times before about how kissing boys would give you cavities, I think it was hard for him to see me getting attention from someone. He was always telling mom that my sister and I were going to grow up before she knew it, part of me felt like he grew so attached to us that he was worried about the same thing. \n\n\nOne day Michael came to the restaurant by himself. It was strange to see him without his parents, but he told me that they had given him money to go eat on the strict orders that he walk to the restaurant, have his meal, and then walk straight home. \n\n\nThat was the first day I ever kissed a boy. \n\n\nI asked him if he wanted to sit with me, but he said that he thought the manager would make him move tables if he did. We laughed about how old people always thought that young people were always just trying to get away with stuff, but regardless he sat by himself two booths away from where I had been sitting. \n\n\nHe must have made five trips to the bathroom before his meal had even come. Each time he would give me a note with questions on it, and then take my response on his way back to his seat. \n\n\n\"What do you like to do for fun?\"\n\n\n\"Don't you ever get bored sitting here all day?\"\n\n\n\"Do you like me?\" \n\n\n\"Do you know how pretty you are?\" \n\n\nI have to admit, I really loved the way he made me feel. \n\n\nEventually, he worked up the courage and asked me if I would meet him out in the front of the restaurant. He said he wanted to give me something. \n\n\nI had an idea what he wanted. I watched enough shows back then to know that when a boy and a girl like each other, they flirt for so long, and then they kiss. I just - hadn't ever liked a boy enough to think about it actually happening. \n\n\nBut with Michael, he stood out. \n\n\nHe finished his meal, paid his ticket with the 20 dollar bill his mother had given him, and left the restaurant. I saw him walk through the front door and off down the sidewalk, but I knew that he would be waiting just around the corner. \n\n\nMy mom was busy with her tables so I waited for her manager to run to the back for a second, and I was off. \n\n\nI slunk out of my booth and made my way towards the front door. I remember feeling my heartbeat in my ears. This was something I had never done before. I knew I'd get grounded if mom found out that I had gone outside, but I figured she was busy enough and I was good enough that she'd never have to find out. \n\n\nBesides, what's a short grounding compared to your first kiss? \n\n\nHe was there waiting for me just around the corner. The parking lot was as full as usual for a lunch time rush, but it felt like he and I were the only people in the whole world. He smiled when he saw that I had made it. I smiled back. \n\n\nWe laughed, and he told me how excited he was that I had been willing to meet him outside. I told him how quickly I needed to go back inside. I knew my mom would give me a few minutes once she saw that I was gone, figuring I was in the bathroom - but I did really need to keep things short. \n\n\nI was nervous but it was that sort of electric nervousness that makes you want to run towards the thing you're sort of scared of. I started to explain to him how I had never really spent much time talking to boys, and that's when he kissed me. \n\n\nThe world stopped. My mind was filled with a rush of thoughts and feelings, most of all how I couldn't believe that I was being kissed. Me! I was nearly positive that Amanda hadn't been kissed yet. Sure, she got to go out with friends but had she been kissed? No. \n\n\n_________________\n\n\nWhen I woke up, I was confused. \n\n\nI could tell I was in the back of a van, but I wasn't sure whose van it was or how I got there. \n\n\nAs my eyes started to un-blur I realized that Michael was driving. I hadn't ever really thought about him being old enough to drive. I knew he was grown up, but since he had always come in with his parents I figured he just didn't have a car or something. \n\n\nI tried to ask him what was going on, and where we were going, but my throat hurt too bad to talk. I was scared. Not scared like I had been earlier, where I thought something fun was about to happen. I was scared the way you get when something's going on that you can't stop. I wanted to know what was happening and I couldn't even get the words to come out of my mouth. \n\n\nMichael must have heard me wheezing and straining to talk to him. He turned back to look at me and then faced the road again. \n\n\nHe told me how he was so excited to take me home. He said that his parents hadn't wanted him to come get me from the restaurant, but he had made them see how he was right. He told me that his parents would never keep him away from me again. \n\n\nI tried to get up. I wanted to go sit up in the front seat with him so he could tell me what he meant. I wanted to get off of my side because my arm was falling asleep but - but I couldn't because my hands and feet were all tied up. \n\n\nHe kept talking while I squirmed. \n\n\nTo this day, I don't remember much of what he said on that trip. I know he told me that I'd never see my mother or sister again and that it didn't have to be a bad thing. He told me he'd take care of me and keep me safe from anyone that ever tried to hurt me. He told me that I was his. \n\n\nForever. \n\n\n______________\n\n\nI think back on that day so often. I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't gone outside or if I had managed to make it back to my mom before he grabbed me. \n\n\nBut I was a dumb kid, and made a big mistake. I don't get to go back. \n\n\n\nI'm his now. He gets me. He just, gets me. ", "\"You stupid son of a bitch! What have I told you about making noise while I'm working, huh?!\" he screamed at me. \n\nI got upset. He always made me feel sad when he shouted at me, which was a lot. I never mean to make him angry, but sometimes I get so bored of being shut away in my room everyday. He never talks to me or plays with me, not since he started his new job. He's too busy, and I just want him to notice me or to hear him laugh.\n\nI walked over to my mum and tapped her, letting her know I wanted to play. She barked at me, and I copied her, and we started playing.", "I noticed a tear on my shirt after we parted ways at the restaurant. Just by one of the lapels, barely noticeable. \n\nWe hadn't gone anywhere nice, just someplace we used to go when it was easier to go anywhere with her. She looked nice like always and I tried to make small talk about work and old friends but she was cold and it was hard. I knew what she was going to get and she knew what I was going to get, but not for much longer.\n\nShe took the news well. She took the news better than I thought she would. She stopped eating and asked me about the date and location. She looked, for the first time since she left me, lonely. I wondered if she felt sorry for leaving me like she had, so suddenly. I wondered if she was lonely for me. \n\nThere was still most of our food on our plates when we paid the bill, but we didn't get boxes. I asked if everything was ok, hoping she would say 'no' so I could be there for her again like I used to, so I could be strong for her. She was quiet but told me she was fine. \n\nWe hugged for a moment longer than I thought we would, my arms freed from her for several seconds while I was still in hers. Her face pressed into my chest and we both walked away silently. I caught something out of the corner of my eye and looked down and saw something that shook my heart from it's shackles and made me feel again. I noticed a tear on my shirt. ", "Curiosity killed the cat.\n\nListen Colin, I'm sorry... But you should have never asked me to watch Mittens while you were on your lunch break. Admittedly, I could have paid more attention to her whereabouts, but I was not responsible for what happened.\n\nYou know I was against the idea of having pets in the lab from the beginning. You know cat hair makes my eyes itch, right? Well that's why I was keeping my distance from her.\n\nI had just finished adjusting the pneumatic gears to reduce their overall volume in the base. And I noticed that we still had room to extend the springs to allow for more force in the percussion drill. And I'm telling you Colin, the cat was on the other side of the lab when I started up the robotic arm.\n\nIt began to run its testing procedure and was working well. Next thing I know, the cat is patting at the percussion drill like its some kind of toy. I don't need to remind you that this is not a toy; it is a one-ton, billion-dollar piece of technology.\n\nWhen the computer signaled the initiation of the percussion drill sequence, it was too late for me to do anything... Colin I'm sorry, but she was pulverized by that drill...\n\nIf it makes you feel any better, I think the rover is going to have no problem breaking through sediments when its up and running on the surface of Mars.", "My wife made a wonderful meal.\n\nWith onions, potatoes, and more, it was the best thing I’ve ever eaten. The meat was so tender, supple and delicious. I just couldn’t get enough. I had one and helping and then another.\n\nIt was too good to stop.\n\nI remembered I once told her that her steak was the best thing I had ever had. However, I changed my mind as soon as I took a bite of that meal. No one could do things to my taste buds like she did. I mean, who knew food could be this good?\n\nI wanted more.\n\nBut I had to leave. I had a few days at most before the police would come. I booked my ticket and left the country as fast as possible. Otherwise, they would arrest me. They would never understand me.\n\nThey would never understand the delicacy of human flesh." ]

[ 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 4, 14, 15, 61, 61, 95, 258 ]

[ "1423471222", "1423487064", "1423458522", "1423458739", "1423464391", "1423498046", "1423476738", "1423432196", "1423441414", "1423442430", "1423428982", "1423429401", "1423428598", "1423426060" ]

[ "NOTES FOR *STUFF FROM THE LATEST DARK AGES: EARLY TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY ANTIQUES* CATALOG ENTRY\n\nItem Kappa-eleven\n\nBiodegradable white chalice with green design, waxed interior, est. 2001-2015 CE. Minor dent in base.\n\nThis once-common chalice was mass-produced using a lost process wherin fibrous plants would be converted into sacred objects. Sold by specialty merchants on every street-corner, chalices with this particular green design were coveted as status symbols and came in three or four standardized sizes. While little is known about the sacred ritual itself, Dr. P. F. Hochs of the University of Panalabama has hypothesized that the chalices were used for imbibing a specific, bitter hot drink that reportedly bestowed upon the drinker a revitalized sense of energy; however, drinking too much or too little of this liquid would result in headaches, shakes, and heightened anxiety. He any anyone curious about the lives of our fore-fathers of the Latest Dark Ages will be thrilled to examine this chalice, as it is one of only half-a-dozen that we have recovered, due to the biodegradable nature of their materials.\n\nRemarkably, this chalice was found by the heirs of the late Francis Smith. It had been stored in - and subsequently forgotten - in a sterile environment that had been walled off centuries ago. The combination of an almost-perfect vacuum and the lack of any moisture perfectly preserved this chalice.\n\n*3/4 of handspan tall, base diameter is 3.5 fingers, opening diameter 5 fingers.*\n\nBidding starts at 720 intergalactic supreme units.", "\"Sold! Bidding closes with the winning bid at $276 million to buyer number 1336.\"\nSweet. I close the auction room and switch the programme back to scenic mountain ranges with jazz. \nShopping has never been easier. Ever since tv screens and computer monitors had became transparent , I had replaced all windows replaced with the 'see through' screens. Except I never used the see through function of course, as the filth of the city polluted the apartment views as well as the environment. This replacement had some downsides, as every 10min the windows/screens bombarded me with unaffordable advertisements. What an effective marketing method it was, as ever since the installation I had spent way more on pointless gadgets I would never use. Eventually the excessive ads stopped having an effect on me. However when they mentioned an ancient pieces auction, I couldn't resist. I had splurged millions on these artifacts. My most recent purchase was truly unique. What could this be used for? It was similar to a bag or a sack but without zips. Soft floral fabric. I turned it inside out. A little plastic tag seemed out of place. \n'DO NOT REMOVE TAG.'\nAppeared on one side. The other had weird diagrams, and said \n'Machine washable. 100% cotton. Made in China.'\nThat confused me more. Was this some type of clothing? I had never seen pictures of people wearing this from the past. It had no arm holes or anything, except for a large hole along one seam. I paced it on my head, as it seemed like the only place you could wear it. The bottom of the fabric trapped my shoulders, and I removed it before I could rip it. Maybe it's a giant sock? No, it couldn't be. I'll do some research on it tomorrow. I enclosed it in a glass cabinet next to my other ancient treasures. \nI hopped into bed, which promptly produced a fresh and clean pillow. \nThat's when it hit me. The fabric was the same size as the pillow. The floral fabric was some sort of decorative clothing for a pillow! Wow. I had won a gem at this auction. \n\"Edit text on sign for display cabinet 6.\" I said.\n\"Altering text on sign for display cabinet 6. Please state new text\" the programme replied.\n\"Pillow case. Estimated extinction 2050AD.\"" ]

[ 2, 7 ]

[ "1423506393", "1423468479" ]

[ "Nothing that matters.\n\nBecause of your small size.\n\nYou fail to see the insignificance of it all.\n\nWhat happened last night affects little.\n\nThe world has not dropped out of orbit.\n\nMany lived, some died.\n\nAll existed.\n\nSome were born, some died.\n\nAll existed.\n\nThe world continues to turn.\n\nWhatever you do,\nnothing matters.\n\nGit gud you skrub.\n", "Dude, what happened last night?\n\nThe same things that happen every night.\n\nThe planet turned, and the stars did burn, and splay their shapes across the sky. And while they did, some people lived and while others quietly die.\n\nAs the light went down we went to town, to eat and drink, and drink and flirt and drink. And as dawn came back, we hailed a cab to drunk, exhausted to care what anybody thinks.\n\nWe passed many lovers. Kissing the night away, like this night could be their last night on earth. And sneaking home together, to bed together, to make impassioned love. And when they could move no more, they slept sweat sheened, tangled in their sheets and in each other's arms. The morning will bring them loving eyes, or awkward goodbyes, or maybe happy news.\n\nWe saw the night watch men. Sullen, cynical, sitting outside every club and bar. Looking for trouble. Looking forlorn. Looking at a youth that passed them by, and wondering how they ended up doing this job when they should be out on the town enjoying themselves.\n\nIn some rooms desk lights shone, and nervous students stared and worried. They wrote some words, crossed them out, and then wrote a little more. Two words forward. One word back. Three hundred words, and only twelve hundred left to write. And they need it done, and then some, before the end of the night.\n\nOut of the city, owls and bats and wolves and stray house cats did hunt they prey, which ran away and tried to find some fruit to eat. Some were to slow, they had to go and become a meal, or snack or sweet.\n\nTrees grew, and crops took in water.\n\nBut apart from that the world slept.\n\nDude, what happened last night?\n\nSame things that happen every night.\n\nTwo escaped mice try to take over the world.", "\"Dude, what happened last night?\"\n\nHalkon, second strongest hero in the world sighed into his hands. \"Do we really have to talk about this. The report has everything you need to know in it.\"\n\n\"No. I want to hear it from you.\"\n\nThe woman sat down in front of him, her hero name was Imp due to her tail and glowing eyes. \"And I don't want any left out information, so that means no 'I don't remember's or dodging questions.\" \n\n\"Fine. Fire away Titrit. What do you want to know.\" He used her real name as a jab at her since she preferred her hero name over it.\n\n\"Was there really not a better way to handle the situation?\"\n\n\"Meaning what? That's kind of a vague question.\"\n\n\"Meaning did we really just scar a seventeen year old for life by attacking her without trying to talk anything out.\"\n\nHalkon groaned, \"There were still too may unknowns. We knew nothing about her prior to the mission. Look. I'm not saying I'm happy with how we handled the situation, because I'm not, but you saw the precog footage, she became a killing machine.\"\n\n\"And for all we know, we just made it worse. Again. Why didn't we try and talk to her.\"\n\nHe hated when she had a good point and knew it.\n\nShe continued, \"I tried talking to her and you know what happened? SHE GAVE UP. She willingly let herself be cuffed and drugged. A person with malicious intents does not do that. And giving a kill order sure didn't help calm her down either.\"\n\nHalkon frown, \"What do you want me to say? I fucked up. I get it. This mission was one of the worst if not THE worst of my career.\"\n\nTitrit held her hands in the air, \"Fine. If that's how you feel about it, I'll take solace in that. Next question.\"\n\nHalkon looked at the clock, still too much time till his next meeting to get out of this, \"Next question.\"\n\n\"Her frequencies.\"\n\n\"What about them?\"\n\n\"Did we find all of them?\"\n\nThe question confused him, \"What do you mean 'all of them'?\"\n\nTitrit crossed her arms, \"So you haven't read the technician's report yet?\"\n\n\"No. Care to give me an abridged version.\"\n\n\"She has four of them. FOUR! Two is almost unheard of, but four?\"\n\nHalkon could feel a pit in his stomach. \"So what's the bad news that comes with this.\"\n\n\"We can only lock down three of them.\"\n\n\"So the last one shifts slightly. We just look for the pattern and write a program that matches the change. We've done it before.\"\n\n\"That's the problem. It doesn't shift. It seems completely random. And it changes so fast the technicians can barely follow it. We have no idea if there's a pattern or not.\"\n\n\"Do we know what each one corresponds to?\"\n\n\"The three we know are for the wisps that she . . .\" Titrit waved her hands in front of her, searching for the right word. \" . . Summons, I guess. Not really the right word for it.\"\n\n\"And the last one is her. Fuuuuck\" Halkon slid till his head rested on the desk. \"Please tell me there's some good news here.\"\n\n\"Lucky for you, there is. She can't use her power without the wisps. So if we dispel the wisps it's the same as if we nullified her power like normal.\"\n\nThe room was dead silent.\n\n\"So what are we going to do?\"\n\nHalkon didn't raise his head front he desk. \"Again. Too vague.\"\n\n\"About her. She killed seven people and it's our fault, not hers.\"\n\n\"I would say proceed as normal, but . . .\"\n\n\"You know I'd bitch a huge fit if you did. Yeah.\"\n\n\"Look. I have a meeting here in. . . \" He looked at the clock, \" . . ten minutes. Can we continue this later?\"\n\nTitrit got up to leave, \"We can and we will. You're not weaseling your way out of this.\"\n\n\"I know.\" The mutter was grim and overshadowed by Titrit shutting the door. \"That's what I'm worried about.\"" ]

[ 1, 2, 3 ]

[ "1423500877", "1423499410", "1423526072" ]

[ "\"Well, the good news is you have cancer. The bad news is you're pregnant.\"\n\nThis is how I know my mother has reached some sort of new level of hysteria.\n\n\"Mom, this is my child, your grandchild. What in the hell are you talking about?\"\n\nCancer makes me cranky. Or pregnancy hormones. Maybe both.\n\n\"I'm talking about you, Lara! You're my baby. What about that? Doesn't that matter to you at all? We can fix this! There's still a week left in your second trimester.\"\n\nGreat. Now I have cancer, a child's foot in my ribs, and apparently I don't care about my mother. \n\nAfter an awkward pause, I look over at Camden. I'm pretty sure this is the part where husbands are supposed to speak up, but he's just sitting there staring out the back window like the fallen crabapples hold the answers to this little pickle. \n\nI shouldn't be surprised. Camden agrees with Mom, but he's too sad right now to yell anymore. He's been processing this three months longer than Mom, but he still hasn't come to terms with.\n\n\"Look, they're going to induce at 34 weeks. I'll deliver my sweet tiny baby , and then I'll go through all of the cancer treatment you want,\" I tell her again.\n\nEpithelial ovarian carcinomas. Of all the cancers in all of the world, I had to develop this one. If it were cervical cancer or skin cancer or basically any other type of cancer, we could have chosen surgery or even chemotherapy in my second trimester.\n\nBut epithelial ovarian carcinomas like mine require a full hysterectomy. The doctors wanted to take my baby away knowing I could never carry another one.\n\nI was about 11 weeks into pregnancy when the our first ultrasound detected the mass. Ultrasound technicians aren't authorized to diagnose, but I knew something was wrong immediately by her silence. \n\n\"I think we lost the baby,\" I whispered to Camden as he squeezed my hand.\n\n\"No, no, no,\" the technician replied. \"Not at all. Look at this precious little thing right here. That's your baby's heartbeat.\"\n\nShe let us listen to the heartbeat and then led us to a room where we would waite for the doctor. Two weeks later, we'd understand the full weight of the diagnosis. Whlle every other woman crosses into the second trimester with confidence, I left shattered.\n\n\"We can find a surrogate. Or we can adopt.\" Camden didn't waste any time letting me know where he stood.\n\n\"Or we can have this baby,\" I told him.\n\nHe pulled off the side of the road, right there by the Dairy Queen. His tears showed up before mine did.\n\n\"No, we can't,\" he pleaded. \"We just can't, Lara. I can't risk it. I can't lose you. I can't raise a baby by myself. We can't.\"\n\nSlowly, I forced myself to look directly at him, to take in the full weight of his pain and grief. He was going to hate me, but maybe that was okay. Maybe it would help him let go if that's what it came down to. \n\n\"I don't want to miss my baby's life either,\" I told him. \"But this is our child. This little miracle baby is what we've spent the last 2 years longing for. The bad news is I have cancer. The good news is I'm pregnant. This is a risk we have to take.\"\n\nThe memory brings forth a smile, but it's quickly ruined when I see Mom has left the table and is sobbing on the couch. This is why we waited so long to tell her.\n\nI reach for Camden's hand and place it over my belly where our baby swiftly kicks it away. \n\n\"Future soccer player,\" I tease. \"Just like his daddy.\"\n\nCamden misses the subtlety at first, but then I watch it wash over him.\n\n\"It's a boy?\", he asks. \n\n\"It's a boy,\" I answer. \"I'm thinking Jacob Camden Hughes.\"\n\nHe smiles, taking in the moment, and then asks, \"Why Jacob?\"\n\n\"I just liked it,\" I tell him. \n\nBut from the way Jacob begins wiggling, I think he somehow knows why I chose his name. It means, \"supplanter\", one who takes the place of someone else, usually on purpose.\n\nI am his Jacob. I am purposefully carrying the weight of the death that would have been his. And should I perish, he will be the good news and my final gift, restoring the joy in my husband's heart. \n\n\n\n \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "\"...that means you won't live past today,\" said Dr. Felter. His bedside manner may need some improvement. Dr. Felter looked deep into his patient's eyes, both of them unblinking.\n\nDr. Felter didn't even know his patient's name. He was just a number to him. Too many of these cases have made him apathetic to any individual patient. Calloused. He was calloused. \n\nHis patient squirmed uncomfortably, still unable to say anything. \n\n\"You'll be joining your friends, at least. And you're sacrifice will help me in my studies. Please, let me make this easy on you.\"\n\nThe patient didn't even see the needle coming. Within seconds the patient was motionless. Dr. Felter breathed a sigh of relief. That was always his least favorite part.\n\nDr. Felter lay the limp body on the table filled with sterilized equipment. This part he didn't mind so much. Dissection. Learning about what caused the cancer. Analyzing the liver, the stomach, the muscles. It was almost mechanical now, he had done this so much. \n\n\"There, there my furry friend,\" said Dr. Felter to the motionless mouse laying on his table. \"You won't feel a thing.\"\n\nHe began slicing.\n\nEdit: Spelling." ]

[ 1, 10 ]

[ "1423545161", "1423511719" ]

[ "\"Well...we might as well jerk each other off.\"", "“There. Where are you?”\n\n“?”\n\nThe messages had been sent five minutes ago. I slid my phone back into my pocket as the metro slowed into the station.\n“Bastille”.\nThe automated voice echoed through the station, partially drowned in the hiss of the breaks, the mechanical clank of the door latches opening and the shuffle of a hundred steps on the quay.\n\nI slithered through the moving crowd and found my way towards the mechanical escalator. People were packing up. I ran along on the empty stairs next to it. Shit. I was already so late. I had crossed an entire ocean to surprise her on her birthday and somehow I had managed to make her wait.\n\nAt the top of the stairs, the corridor split into three different directions. In one of them the tiles seemed to curve endlessly with no exit in sight, two others had stairs that were going down. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. I would never hear the end of it. How I knew she hated waiting, how they might close the opera doors on us. How the world was leagued to ruin everything she enjoyed.\n\nI looked at the signs indicating directions. Other metro lines. Exits. Twelve different exits. Who the fuck needed twelve different exits? I knew nothing of the streets listed. Opera. Opera. Here. Wait, what? Two different exits were listed as opera-something. Going in opposite directions. Where there two operas? No, no, I knew there was only one. I had booked the seats for her. She wasn’t particularly versed in classical music but she really enjoyed highbrow stuff. It made her feel good about herself. I knew she’d like telling her friends about it. How nice and classy it was. She would never say classy but she’d express the idea. How considerate her boyfriend was, to know that she *loved* Operas. Never mind the fact that she would never tell me.\n\nOne of the ‘opera’ exits said something-“principale”, I decided to go with this. I was walking at a brisk pace. So was everyone around me. I accelerated to a light trot. It would make me look slightly out of breath. At least that’s one thing she wouldn’t be able to complain about. Not like how I ruined her surprise by letting her find out about my trip. How was I to know she would be so freaked out by me not answering her texts for twelve hours she would call half my family demanding to know where I was? \n\nThe corridor enlarged to a station entrance. Over the ticket office and the automated machines I saw the large clock read five past eight. She’d been waiting for at least ten minutes. If she was still waiting. I hadn’t felt my phone vibrate since I left the wagon. At that point it probably meant she’d left. She would do that on occasions. Just leave when she was dissatisfied. It was her way of making a statement, of saying she deserved respect. Apparently she deserved a lot of respect, because she made a lot of statements.\n\nI climbed the last flight of stairs towards the outside pushed by the heavy draft of the metro station. The sky was overcast and darkening with the day close. The ground slightly wet from recent rain. People swarmed around. The rushing sound of cars and motorcycles permeated the air. I looked around at the staircase of the giant building covered in posters announcing upcoming performances. I scanned groups and isolated people waiting on the stairs looking for her face. \n\nI hadn’t seen her in four months but I picked her features quickly. There was something unmistakable about her girly prettiness, her slightly brooding pout and a vacant coldness in her pale blue eyes that made her stand out. Upon seeing her I realised my pace had slowed. I wasn’t as eager to see her as I was to please her.\n\nShe hadn’t noticed me. She was talking to someone else. A man. He had his back to me. He bent slightly and, as she lifted her head, they kissed. My heart sunk, I stopped dead in my tracks and stared uncomprehendingly. Questions filled my mind as blood drained away from it. \n\nThe shock left me dumbfounded. They turned and started walking towards the entrance without me moving to keep up. I blinked, still not realising. Doubting what I had just seen I started walking but in a diagonal, so as to end up alongside them. The guy had dark hair and a stature similar to mine. There was something eerily familiar about his demeanour. The high collar of his coat hid his features from me. I realised I had started trotting again. As I got closer a car screeched and horned loudly behind me. They turned to look at it. I caught a glimpse of his face. And I stopped walking.\n\nThey resumed walking and entered the large revolving door of the opera. I still hadn’t moved. I stayed there for what seemed like an eternity. I just couldn’t act. It seemed that every time I was about to move I was stopped by the reminiscence of what I had just seen. Eventually someone bumped into me. I stumbled forward, looked around as if waking up from a dream. My eyes laid down on the Opera, the steps, where she had been. I turned around and walked away." ]

[ 2, 2 ]

[ "1423519061", "1423521204" ]

[ "The Doorbell rang. Finally the pizza was here. My friends and I had been drinking since clocking off at 5pm after working 8 hours hard labour for the same arsehole of a boss, and now 6 hours later we were all feeling the need for food. Fred got up and staggered drunkenly down the hallway to the door kicking over a few empty beer bottles on his way. The rest of us, myself, Charlie and Rob, sat around trying to decide what show to binge on netflix next. \n\n\n“Uh lads?” he shouted from the door “This guy say’s he needs £300. How much did you all order?” Me and the others looked around at each other puzzled. We’d only ordered two large ones, how could thae come to £300? They must had gotten the order wrong so I went to join Fred out in the hall way and get this cleared up. At this point I was hungry and drunk and really couldn’t be arsed with an argument right now. The man who stood at the door definitely wasn’t the pizza guy. For start he wasn’t some spotty teen but a guy around six feet tall wearing an ankle length black leather jacket and a cowboy hat. \n\n“Look stop messing me around” The guy says “I got a call about an order and now I’m here to deliver. Now I’m gonna need paying or I’m gonna have to take something from one of you worth more than £300” Fred burst out laughing while I was still pretty confused by the whole situation (The 9 or so pints of beer I’d already had weren’t helping much)\n“C’mon” Fred slurred “Who put you up to’this? Was it Charlie? Charlie! You dickhead, is this you?”\n\n\nBy this point the cowboy at my front door started getting irate. He pushed my and Fred backwards towards the living room and shoved us hard onto the unoccupied sofa. “Look you little Shits” He snarled at us “I’ve been called up to carry out a job and I’m not ready to have my time dicked around by a bunch of drunken idiots. Now you’re gonna tell me who I’m hitting, hand over the £300 and I’ll be on my way”\n\n\nFinally the penny dropped in each of us and we realised what this guy was. My friends and I looked around at each other, mouths agape. There was only one way out of this mess and so rarely does an opportunity like this come along. So. Who did we want to kill the most?\n\n\n\n", "\"Hello?\"\n\n\"What can I do for you?\"\n\n\"Have any specials?\"\n\n\"Hmm that depends. Did you get referred by anyone?\"\n\n\"Uhh well my buddy Joey says you're the best place in town.\"\n\n\"Joey?.... Hmmm. Oh right! Yeah sure dr a friend of Joey's I'll give ya a two for one special. 20 even.\"\n\n\"Well that sounds reasonable.\" \n\n\"Got an address for me?\" \n\n\"124 queen street apt 216. Call you when it's done.\" \n\n*click*\n\n\"Hey wait I didn't even specify toppings yet!\"\n\nEdit*", "*Hello? Bill the Hitman here?*\n\nHi, is this Dominos?\n\n*No, I kill people with bullets, not shitty food.*\n\nSorry! My mistake!\n\n(click)\n\n**SEVEN MONTHS LATER**\n\n*Excuse me, don't I know you?*\n\nI don't think so. No, I... wait. Hitman?\n\n*Pizza?*\n\nBring it in you old son of a gun! How the hell are you? I haven't seen you since that wrong number where I didn't even see you because that's how a fucking phone call works, dummy!\n\n*Aw, well, you know. They're keeping me busy.*\n\nI saw they made a movie about you. Me and Jeanine--\n\n*How's Jeanine?*\n\nStill in an iron lung but she leads a normal life. You know, AS YOU DO. Anyhow, it was a great flick! Did all of that stuff really happen to you?\n\n*Truthfully?*\n\nYeah!\n\n*No. No, no. See, Hollywood, they just up the ante on everything. Like you remember Good Morning Vietnam? Robin Willimas, right? Well, it was supposed to be a true story, but none of that stuff happened. Like, the guy he was supposed to be portraying was like \"Sure, I was a DJ in Vietnam, but none of that other stuff happened.\" That's MY movie, too. Why did they even need my name? They may as well have called me Shingle MCDingle. I could have been played by a leprechaun.*\n\nSo all of that stuff, the stuff with the president's son and the ski lodge and the DNA test and the robots and the courtroom battle and the part set in the year 2816 and the talking dog and the CGI snowman and the \"will they won't they\" romance between you and the supermodel and the car chase and the pie fight and the product placement and the whole thing with Keith Sweat, you're telling me none of that was real?\n\n*Sorry, man. But I still killed a lot of people. They got that part right.*\n\nWell, it's been fun, but I just bought some pancake mix, so I'm gonna go home and flush it down the toilet.\n\n*Flush it down the toilet? But why?*\n\nYou kill people for money, but you're asking ME why I'm flushing pancake mix down the toilet? \n\n*Touche.*\n\n\n EDIT: Typos", "*ring-ring-ring*\n\n\nHM (Hitman): Hello?\n\n\nP (Person): Hi...uhh....sorry I forget, is this \"the hut\" or john's?\n\n\nHM: ....this is John. How may I be of assistance?\n\n\nP: Oh great! Listen, I actually don't have the ad in front of me, but I saw in the paper that you have a pretty good special on this week?\n\n\nHM: Yes...my services are for those in.... \"special\" circumstances.\n\n\nP: Oho! Really selling the promotion huh? I like it! Okay look I'm not too fussed I just need it to be quick because I'm heading out in an hour and I haven't had lunch.\n\n\nHM: Well I can certainly make it quick...and without a mess, it all depends on the specifics.\n\n\nP: Oh jeez...look I'll just get whatever the combo special was.\n\n\nHM: Oh. I didn't realise there were multiple targets, how would you like them to go?\n\n\nP: Preferably with coke.\n\n\nHM: You want to make it look like an \"accident\"?\n\n\nP: What?! No. Make it look like it's on the ad.\n\n\nHM: I'm asking whether you want it to look like a \"deal gone wrong\".\n\n\nP: Look I'm not down with the \"extreme\" marketing lingo - Just the combo deal in the paper is fine.\n\n\nHM: And you want coke involved?\n\n\nP: Yeah, fuck pepsi.\n\n\nHM: One of the target's name is Pepsi?\n\n\nP: What the hell does target have to do with this? \n\n\nHM: Well I'd say the target has everything to do with this.\n\n\n*extended silence*\n\n\nP: Listen whatever promotion your running with target...it doesn't really bother me, I'll have the combo thanks.\n\n\nHM: What's the location?\n\n\nP: 15 Millers Bay, Cahuna. You might have to park on a side street...the roads pretty packed today, and my squad cars in the driveway.\n\n\nHM: Squad car?\n\n\nP: Yea buddy LAPD, don't hold that against me! And listen, can you add hot wings to that as well?\n\n\n*click*.\n", "\"Hey, I'd like to order a pizza.\"\n\n\"No shit, loser. That's why you made the call. What do you want?\"\n\nI blinked twice. That was hardly a professional way to address a customer. \"Uh. Well. I haven't really decided yet. You know? What kind of specials you got going on?\"\n\n\"Well... Tony's here, in the back. He's got a few tricks up his sleeve. Genuine Italian guy, you know? He knows how to do it old school.\"\n\n\"Old school? Like, from Italy? I guess I could get behind that.\"\n\n\"Yeah man, Tony's the best. I heard he got a special call, had to take care of a pretty big party. He made sure his customer was *real* satisfied. Nice and fast, without making a big mess.\"\n\n\"So you guys deliver fast, huh? Like, a half hour?\"\n\n\"A half hour? Are you kidding? This better be a local job!\"\n\n\"No, I mean, it's pretty local. In Boston still. I'll tip big if you get it here before it gets cold.\"\n\nThere's a pause on the other end. I guess he had trouble comprehending what I meant. \"Is that not clear to you?\"\n\n\"You want us to like, bring it to you? When we're done?\"\n\n\"Well no shit. Look, are you gonna take my order or not?\"\n\n\"Hey man, everyone has their own taste. What do you want?\"\n\n\"Make it small. Nothing extra, just the basics. It's just for one person. And like I said, if it gets to me still hot, I'll tip the guy who delivers it.\"\n\n\"Ok. And where am I sending Tony?\"\n\n\"54367 N. Marvaury. It's up the stairs; apartment 209. You'll have to knock.\"\n\n\"Alright. We'll send Tony. Be ready to give him a twenty on delivery. And we'll call you if you have any questions.\"\n\nI hung up in disgust. Unprofessional and lazy. I threw the smudged business card to the floor and went to hunt my apartment for a clean pair of pants. After tonight, I was never calling that pizza parlor again.", "\"Hello can I get a medium pepperoni Pizza for collection?\"\n\n\"I think you have the wrong number\"\n\n\n\"Oh sorry, my bad\"\n\n\n\"No problem\"\n\n\n\"Bye\"\n\n\n\"Bye\"", "Sam took another hit from his three-foot tall bong, aptly named Kong, and noticed himself falling a little bit deeper into the couch. After blowing out the smoke, he heaved a satisfying sigh. It was a long day at work and he needed to shake off the stress. \n\nCannabis seemed to do the trick!\n\nSuddenly hearing a faint growling, Sam sprang up in a paranoid panic, but was relieved to find the noise was coming from his stomach. After chuckling to himself, he realized the noise meant he was hungry. He debated whether or not he should get off the couch, and decided he was paralyzed where he sat for the time being. \n\n'Think, Sam, think,' he thought to himself, 'How can I get food into my stomach without moving the lower half of my body?'\n\nLooking around him, he saw that his phone was football fields away on the kitchen counter. \n\n'Shit. That won't work,' he groaned.\n\nChecking the side table next to him, he spotted his old land-line phone and a phone book, both collecting dust behind a months-old newspaper and a filled fishbowl sans the Betta he forgot to buy. Reaching over, he grabbed the phone book and opened it up. \n\nAfter forgetting how a phone book worked, he finally remembered, but then forgot what he was doing with the phone book in the first place. Hi stomach growled again.\n\n'Oh yeah, I'm hungry.'\n\nThe first pizza joint that popped into his head was Papa Johns. After what seemed like an eternity and lots of squinting, he found what he was looking for. Blowing the dust off his cordless land-line, he dialed the phone number. \n\n\"Papa John. What can I do for ya?\" a gruff Boston accent asked\n\n\"Yes, hello. I would like a pepperoni pizza, hold the pepperoni.\"\n\nSam covered his mouth and snickered like a little schoolgirl. 'What a hilarious joke,' he thought. Little did Sam know that he called Papa John Pest Removal, and making food was not one of his services. A 'pepperoni pizza, hold the pepperoni' was his secret code for carrying out a hit. \n\n\"You got it, boss. Where can I meetcha?\" \n\nSam was disappointed he didn't get a reaction from his joke. \"Uh, I'm at 37 Willow St.\" \n\n\"Be there in 15.\"\n\nSam heard a click. 'He didn't even tell me how much my order was,' he thought, 'Oh well.' \n\nFifteen minutes later, there was a knock at the door, awaking Sam from the weed nap he immediately took following the call. Managing to remember he ordered pizza, he slid off the couch and grabbed his wallet from the coffee table. \n\nHe opened the door to see a short yet incredibly stocky man; he had a wool hat covering a bald head, a cigarette in his ear, and no pizza. \n\n\"You gonna let me in or what, kid?\" Papa John snapped.\n\n\"Uhh, dude where's my pizza?\" Sam replied. \n\nPapa John stared at him in silence for several seconds, then rolled his eyes.\n\n\"GODAMMIT,\" he yelled, and slammed the door in Sam's face.\n\nPapa John stormed down the driveway. 'I gotta change my fuckin' secret code,' he thought, 'That's the fifth goddamn stoner this month!' \n\nMeanwhile, Sam stood inside his doorway staring blankly and trying to register what had happened. Suddenly, his stomach growled. \n\n\"Oh yeah, I'm hungry.\"\n\n\n\n", "Jeremy was ecstatic that his mother had left him $20 to order pizza, so ecstatic in fact that he misread the 4th digit in the phone number, a 7, as a 1. In his fervent haste to dial the phone number, he had completely forgotten to consider his order. \n\nThe phone rang three times. Finally, a pre-recorded message invited Jeremy to leave a message. He thought this was odd, but in his youthful naivety gave it no further thought.\n\n\"Hi, my name's Jeremy. I'd like to place a-\"\n\n\"Hello, this is Dominico\" said a gruff and raspy voice bathed in a thick Italian accent.\n\n\"Dominos?\" thought Jeremy, with a tinge of disappointment. \n\n\"Well I'd like to place an order please.\"\n\n\"Sure, what for?\"\n\n\"Well, I have twenty,\" he told the man, waving a $20 bill around as he pirouetted in circles.\n\n\"You need twenty to go?\"\n\n\"No, I said I have twenty here, what can that get me?\" \n\n\"Well normally it's one for fifteen, but I could do two for twenty if I'm goin' to the same address and they're more or less the same sorta deal, you know what I mean?\"\n\n\"Oh goody!\" Jeremy thought wistfully, imagining not one but TWO pies headed straight for his door. \n\n\"That'd be swell, mister.\"\n\n\"So what exactly do you want me to do to em?\"\n\n\"Well, I'd like one with lots of sausage and mushrooms.\"\n\n\"Whoa whoa whoa, hold up. I already told Tony I don't do no snuff stuff, none of that freaky shit.\" \n\n\"Snuff stuff? Who's Tony\"\n\n\"What the fuck is the matta with you, huh? You tellin me you don't know who Tony is?\"\n\n\"My dad's name is Anthony, but one time a woman called and asked for Tony. I think that's his nickname.\"\n\n\"Get the fuck outta here and quit wasting my time.\"\n\n\"So, is there not going to be any pizza?\"\n\n\"Jesus fucking christ man, yous supposed to be talking to Johnny he's the one that runs the pizza joint.\"", "My work phone rings and shakes across my table. I answer it.\n\n\"Hello.\"\n\n\"Hey man. I'd like to order a pizza.\"\n\nSimple code. He wants someone gone.\n\n\"Okay. What would you like?\"\n\n\"Pepperoni Pizza, stuffed crust, extra cheese.\"\n\nEx-girlfriend, make it hurt, make it last. I like his style. Simple yet effective.\n\n\"Where to.\"\n\n\"482 Walby, red house\"\n\n\"Alright, that comes to about $8000\"\n\nSimple kill so I'll give the man a deal.\n\n\"Since when the fuck did a pizza get so high? The government man, doin all their crazy shit. Whatever man just make sure it gets here fast.\" He hung up.\n\nHes got a nice cover. A stoner. Im sure he'll happy to here when the jobs finished.", "The phone rang exactly three times, before the receiver clicked, and a voice (from someone who clearly gargled gravel) came over the line.\n\n“How did you get this number.”\n\nIt was weird they would choose such a confrontational guy to answer the phone, but, well, whatever. Maybe he was a special hire?\n\n“Vito’s, right? My friend recommended you. He said you do delivery?”\n\nThe voice on the other end chuckled. “Yeah. Yeah, we do delivery. Your friend, huh?”\n\n“Yeah, he said you guys were really good, and *quick*, too.”\n\n“We *pride ourselves* on our reputation. Never heard a complaint after. Whaddya want?”\n\n“Yeah, he said to ask about the special?”\n\n“Oh, the special, huh? We got us a *conny-sewer* over here. Ok, the special. How you want it?”\n\n“All the toppings, please.”\n\n“*All the toppings?!* You mean... Even the thing with the *peppers*?”\n“Yeah yeah, of course I want the peppers!”\n\n“Well, ok, whatever you say, pal. We aim to please.”\n\n“And can I get it cut into eight pieces, please?”\n\nThe voice on the other end made a small disgusted noise. “Cut into eight pieces? You want it cut up?”\n\n“Yeah, of course I want it cut up!”\n\nThe voice on the other end paused.\n\n“Listen, man, we can do disposal, you know. We *box it up* for you-“\n\n“-Well, I’d *hope* so. I mean, it’s your *job* to-“\n\n“-you ain’t gotta get it cut up or anything.”\n\n“What the hell do you mean I ‘don’t have to get it cut up’?! *How the hell else am I gonna fit it on a plate?!*”\n\nThere was a noise on the other end of someone being ill. “You, you’re a real *sicko*, you know that?”\n\nWhat? These clowns don’t even know how to deliver a goddamn pizza, and now they’re judging *me?!*\n\n“You’ve got some nerve! You want me to order one for you?! Show you *how it’s done?* I don’t care, I know seven, *eight * other places that’ll do it *exactly how I like it* and I guarantee you they’ll be there in half an hour, or *less*!”\n\n“*Whoa, whoa,* okay buddy, okay.” The voice on the other side sounded oddly *shaken*, which didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me, seeing as how I was offering to pay and everything. Maybe it would look bad for them? “Let’s not get too crazy, ok? I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it, alright? Jesus!”\n\n“So, how much?”\n\n“Twenty. Half now.”\n\n“What, like a deposit? You take Discover, right?”\n\n*“Are you kiddin’ me?!”*\n\n“Listen, I’ll have cash on me when you come to deliver. I’ll pay you then.”\n\n“Wait- holy shit, you want this for *you?!*”\n\n“Well, *duh*. Who did you think it was-“\n\n**CLICK!**\n", "\"Hi there, welcome to Domino's Pizza. How can I be of assistance?\"\n\n\n\"Hi, I'm looking at the specials online, do you still have the two-for-one medium with the garlic bread and two sodas?\"\n\n\n\"Yes sir, we do, they last until next weekend. Are you looking into the two-for-one deal?\"\n\n\n\"Yes, I think I'll go with that one. I'm going to get pepperoni and all dressed, and two Cokes.\"\n\n\n\"Perfect. Credit or cash?\"\n\n\n\"Cash please.\"\n\n\n\"What are the addresses?\"\n\n\n\"I'm sorry?\"\n\n\n\"The two addresses.\"\n\n\n\"It's one address.\"\n\n\n\"Oh, okay. Sorry about that. What's the address?\"\n\n\n\"21 Pine Street, fourth unit on the second floor.\"\n\n\n\"Any special instructions?\"\n\n\n\"Yeah, I guess. Don't make it sloppy, and keep the cheese on the pizza.\"\n\n\n\"One last thing.\"\n\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\n\"I'm going to need a down payment, brown bag, paper, unmarked bills.\"\n\n\n\"...I'm going to need to speak to your manager.\"\n\n\n\"The boss ain't here today.\"\n\n\n\"Well, this is frankly silly. I don't think I've ever called this location and received a response like this. Get me my pizza for free.\"\n\n\n\"Pizza?\"\n\n\n\"Yes. My damn pizza.\"\n\n\n\"Kid, you dialed the wrong number. You mixed up the 4 and 8.\"\n\n\n\"Well, who am I calling then?\"\n\n\n\"Domino.\"\n\n\n\"The pizza joint.\"\n\n\n\"No. Domino. Just call me that.\"\n\n\n\"And what do you do Domino.\"\n\n\n\"Nevermind. I'll get you your god damned pizza.\"", "\"Hey, Pizza Hut, I'd like a large pizza with extra olives, extra sausage, extra anchovies, and hold the pepperoni. Oh yeah, and I'd like the crust to be stuffed. I'll have you send it over to my friends house, the address is 6599 Meadow Lane Rd. Thanks man.\" You hear strange muffled sounds from the other end of the line. \"Hey, man, I can't hear you, but that'll be like what? $10? Whatever, see you there.\"\n\nIt's only a 5 minute drive to your friends house, you'll get there with plenty of time left to be there before the deliver guy. As you roll up the house, you see the front door wide open. Strange. As you walk inside you see a broken vase and a pair of legs laid out around the corner.\n\nYou turn the corner to see your friend lying in a pool of his own blood, a pizza cutter stuck in his neck. Next to his cooling body is a nondescript brown box. You slowly open it up to find a large pizza with extra olives, sausage and anchovies. They even remembered to hold the pepperoni.", "\"Hello, Pizza Place - how may I take your order?\"\n\nI was sitting alone in my armchair surrounded by empty noodle cartons yet somehow I was still hungry. \"Yeah, I'd uh like a pepperoni pizza with anchovies.\"\n\n\"What size, sir?\" The voice on the other end seemed a little bit apprehensive, which I thought was a bit weird, but my stomach was making angry noises. \"Yeah a 12 inch please.\"\n\nThe voice on the other end suddenly changed, and the nasally female voice was replaced with a softly-spoken male baritone. \"You've selected from our rather 'premium' menu, shall I say?\"\n\n\"Uh sure\" I said, not really knowing what he was getting on about.\n\n\"And this 'Pepperoni', does he have a name?\" asked the voice.\n\n\"Huh?\"\n\n\"No name, no problem. I will need a photo however.\"\n\nA photo? What was this guy going on about? \"I... I can't give you a photo...\" I said slowly. The man on the other end said nothing, but I heard him sighing deeply in contemplation.\n\n\"Very well\" he finally said, \"Give me the address, and I will perform my service indiscriminantly. I expect to be compensated for the extra collateral, however.\"\n\n\"Compensation? Buddy, you only get a tip if you process my order fast - clear?\" I needed to put my foot down with this guy, he was getting way too greedy to demand a tip up front.\n\n\"Trust me sir, my service will be silent and expedient.\" In the background I heard what could only be the sound of a pizza cutter being clicked into place.\n\n\"Good\" I said, and then gave him my address.", "“Who is this?”\n\nI took a drag of my cigarette and blew out the smoke. “Yeah. Hi. I want to order a large pepperoni and a large veggie. Do you guys still do hot wings?”\n\n“I think you have the wrong number.”\n\n“Really? Is this 55-PIZZA?”\n\nThe woman on the other line groaned. “Yes. It is, but I don’t deliver pizza.”\n\nI stubbed out my cigarette and took a swig of scotch. “Oh. Okay. Sorry.”\n\n“No problem.”\n\n“So, I can just come in an pick-it up?”\n\n“No.”\n\n“Do I have to eat in?”\n\n“No.”\n\nMy frustration level rose. “So I can do take-out?”\n\n“Listen, buddy. We don’t serve pizza. Period,” said the woman. It sounded like she was getting angry.\n\n“Then why the fuck are you a pizza place?”\n\n“We’re not,” she screamed. \n\nThis little shit was really getting my goat. “Listen, you little tit-sucker. I don’t know if you think you’re funny or something, but I’m going to come down there and rip your head off then shit down your throat. I’m only going to do this after I force you to make my pizza,” I screamed. \n\n“Dave?”\n\n“What?”\n\n“Is this Dave Johnson? The Cockatiel flies at night but only by sunlight.”\n\nHoly shit. This person knew my code name and phrase. “Only when the sun is out during the full summer moon.”\n\n“This is Malory Smith,” said the woman. “We met at the waste collectors conference in Trenton last year. “\n\nI smacked my forehead. Idiot. “Hi, Malory. Sorry about all that. I just want some pizza.”\n\n“Yeah. My phone number is a weird coincidence. I should really get a new burner.”\n\n“That’d be good. It would suck if some teenager got ahold of you and accidently order trash removal service instead of pizza.”\n\nMalory laughed. “Boy would my face be red.”\n\n“Why didn’t you just hang up?”\n\nShe laughed again. “I wanted to see how long it would take you to realize who you’d called.”\n", "\"Hello?\"\n\n\"Hi, this is Joe. How may I help you?\"\n\n\"Hey... um... one sec. I think I'll have the number 3. As long as it's still half off with a side order.\"\n\n\"Yeah, it is. Is that the deal we agreed upon last time? Should be cool as long as the side is equivalent price. If you know what I mean.\"\n\n\"Uh.. agreed upon? Last time.. I haven't ordered here in a minute, man. I guess? I mean if that's the deal, then I'll take it. Just give me whatever meets the deal.\"\n\n\"Got it. You want any additional jobs?\"\n\n\"Jobs?\"\n\n\"Yeah, side ones... small ones, preferably... something quick and easy...\"\n\n\"I guess, maybe a few breadsticks.\"\n\n\"Breadsticks? Like the skinny fuckers?.\"\n\n\"What the fuck, man? Can we just fucking finish this order and cut the bull shit already?\"\n\n\"I think I catch your drift, man. It's gonna be 20 this time around.\"\n\n\"Cool. I'll come pick up in a few.\"\n\n\"No need, I can deliver.\"\n\n\"Free delivery? Fuck, man. Nice!\"\n\n\"Of course I deliver... that's what you're paying for, right? Take out for three, with two sides. I just need the description of the orders.\"\n\n\"Just plain, nothing special.\"\n\n\"Got it. Where they gonna be at?\"\n\n\"You mean where am I gonna be at?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Huh?\"\n\n\"Where the fuck do I need to go?\"\n\n\"Dude, just fucking bring me the pizzas. I live at Maple Street, right by the general store.\"\n\n\"Oh... shit, man. You called the wrong dude. I don't do pizza, but I can make a nigga look like pizza.\"" ]

[ 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 6, 7, 7, 7, 7, 14, 24, 38, 98 ]

[ "1423648776", "1423635830", "1423627917", "1423632932", "1423624832", "1423626541", "1423617013", "1423616593", "1423622025", "1423622945", "1423624759", "1423614306", "1423616448", "1423616236", "1423614329" ]

[ "I arrive without much notice \n\nand leave as fast as I've come.\n\nThe intelligent can have me as well as the\ndumb.\n\nI can yell loudly or speak in a soft tone\n\nand bring giggles or disgust wherever I roam.\n", "One can want it, but never get it. \nYou can buy it, but it won't be the same as when found and you make it. \nRegret it or fake it, maybe even mistake it. \nOne can feel it, but not always see it. \nAnyone can fall in it or be in it. \nLose it, give and take it, remember it. \nCelebrate it and die in it.\n\nWhat is it and what is my story?\n" ]

[ 1, 2 ]

[ "1423637147", "1423628105" ]

[ "Honestly, smash them all or forget the whole fucking thing. I am sitting on the curb holding the hammer. It’s Summer, so I don’t have school and the sun is beading down on me like my au pair’s nagging voice.\n\nSmash. Smash. Smash. Die you fucking Lady Bugs. With a hammer large enough and some time, you can rule the entire world.\n\n“What are you doing?” Kyla is a dork and a tattle.\n\n“Go away.”\n\n“Is that Jon’s hammer? Did he say you can use it? I’ll tell mom!” She’s wearing her Dora shirt. Why is it that girl’s who where Dora shirts think they are so great?\n\n“I said GO!” I hold the hammer up. Yeah, I’ll smash her like one of those gopher games. Nature rules. I am king of nature. I am king of man.\n\n“Mooooomm!” Kyla goes running up the driveway. I know I can expect to hear about this. Mostly I wish Jeff was here. He should have been here ten minutes ago. We are going rattle snake hunting. I hope to catch one and plant it in the school. And a baby to leave in Elga’s bed! Baby rattle snakes are the worst! They’re the most poisonous.\n\nYou have to be a pyscho to hunt rattle snakes. They are really the most dangerous in the North America. Jeff says that pythons are scarier, but pythons aren’t poisonous. Rattlers. They’ll kill you dead.\n\nIf you want to be king of nature, you need the gear. I’ve got my fireman overalls. They have suspenders like adults. There is no one way rattlesnake teeth are getting through. I’ll collect at least three snakes. I have a jar and everything.\n\n“See I told you! Your hammer!” Kyla is back dragging Jon down the driveway with his hand. Jon is Mom’s boyfriend. He is a pawn...well more of a bishop. But I have him figured.\n\n“Hey, little buddy,” he says to me. If I look up at him, the sun will glare in my glasses so I ignore him. I clutch his hammer a little tighter.\n\n“He has your hammer! He’s not allowed to play with your tools,” Kyla says.\n\n“Oh, he’s alright,” Jon says. He picks me up. “Look at his little outfit. You look like Mario. You trying to catch Donkey Kong.” He tickles me, and my feet start kicking around. I’ll...I’ll...I’ll kill the son of a bitch.", "Every day a new plan, every day a new defeat. Doesn't matter what I do, it seems. Stealing things, destroying stuff, hell, I've even soiled a few expensive pieces of furniture. But does anyone care? Does anyone give me recognition? No, I just get scolded like a bad child. Total bogus. Don't they know I am the master of doom, the bringer of death, the harbinger of the end days? I command the very forces of shadow and destruction with nothing more than the flick of my wrists, but they do not fear me, no. They praise me, and shower me with gifts and food. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind all that, but it would be nice to see some real *fear* sometimes. I mean, it's hard to be terrifying when they put you in little teeny sweaters and the tiniest little boots you could imagine. I mean, it's totally ridiculous, considering the fact that I'm the greatest threat this world has ever known.\n\nBesides, those boots don't even keep my paws warm." ]

[ 6, 6 ]

[ "1423639158", "1423640854" ]

[ "The sun rises on the New Tiwanaku empire in the year 5000 BC, as a pious people we strived to create a powerful and strong faith to keep our people strong. We were a peaceful people, wanting to be friends with the rest of the world...until the rest of the turned out to be Montezuma, Atilla and Shaka..", "Map of the great Ethiopian Empire in 1750(EU4, sorry folks):\n\nhttp://imgur.com/h9KyIPa\n\nOur empire at the dawn of its golden age, already a great trading and military empire, before Iyasu I abdicated, and declared the end of the Ethiopian Kingdom, and the Dawn of the Ethiopian Republic, based on the principles of Liberty, Equality, and Removing Kebab.\nThe Europeans, always known for being a little backwards, saw it as the dawn of a new Prestor John, an old fable about a Christian Kingdom surrounded by muslims. While there was a time when that was true, it is no longer, for even the great cities of Mecca and Jerusalem pray under the leadership of the Coptic church.", "...........continued from page 447\n..and we're still not sure why the Egyptians renamed their capital from Thebes to the mysterious \"LOLSUXORZ\", but it is definitely the turning point in their civilization.\n\n At this juncture all international trade ceased immediately, uranium was mined at an unprecedented level, and religious and artistic endeavors all but ground to a halt. And then came the bombs....", "A History of the World\n\nby King Ludwig II\n\nThird Edition\n\nIntro:\nThe world as we know it began centuries ago. Our great forefathers searched for suitable land to built and grow. It was in these rolling hills and plains, protected by two isthmuses with mountains preventing any land unit from crossing them that our civilization was born. It must also been known that the land they settled was a large subcontinent, allowing the early settlers room to grow and prosper with absolutely no threat from any other civilization. It was through this placement that would allow us future control as the superior civilization.\n\nChapter 3: The conquest of Askia\nFor many centuries the great Bavarian Kingdom sent ships and discovered much of there continent. It was the age of the Frigate. Our Leader at the time knew Askia was a weak and pathetic nation, he used his superior fleet to conquer a port city. However this city was on the other side of the continent and was cut off from out homeland. Our wise leader quickly made peace and there was much rejoicing from the luxuries this city had to offer. Peace was had for many years but this would not last because . . . . . . . The war went swiftly. The use of airports allowed our nation to send advanced troops to conquer the unassuming nation ruled by Askia. The war was long and difficult and after many treaties were signed then broken, all the land of Askia, belonged to Ludwig II. This war was the beginning of a new world order. What happened next was inevitable.\n\nChapter 4:The conquest of the continent\nThe Empires that lay between those of our nation and Askia were large and well defended. They fell quickly under the power and might of the glory of Bavaria. The Incan empire fell first, followed by the sea invasion of Gajah Mada. No one was spared. Soon the continent was ours forever. With it our culture soared to new heights. Soon muscians of extreme skill became so common none bothered to have names, going only by the name,\"Great Musician.\"\n\nChapter 6: America\nAfter the fall of the Japanese empire in the new continent it was only a mater of time before their neighbors would fall as well. Their leader, Washington, felt strong enough to spurn talks of peace. It was not long before he begged for them. \n\nChapter 7: Social Enhancement\nAfter the final American city fell, it was a simple matter to conquer China and Byzantine. Korea was freed from Chinese control and American cities were given to show them our good faith. Now that All continents and cities belonged were ours, all land was cultivated, all buildings built, all military personnel executed for war crimes. Everlasting peace had been achieved and the world was safe from all harm.\n\nEpilogue:\nThough many criticize Bavaria's conquest, none can argue with our civilizing nature to barbarian nations. As an ally to all city-states, only policies beneficial to the world were allowed to pass in the Congress of Korea and Bavaria. Though it has been centuries since the final shot was fired, some still claim that our methods were cruel, but in time their voice will be silenced as were those before them. Now only Bavaria carries the great burden of running the world, and we accept it gladly, for it was what we had dreamed of accomplishing since the very founding of our civilization.", "On the foundation of Athens and the conquest of Alexander\nBy Herodotus\n\n\"...Pericles assigned the patriarch of each clan two stones from the beach; white for yes, black for no. In equating the clans, the age of democracy was born. In a stroke, ancient man was banished from Greece forever.\n\nAthens thrived. Its lifeblood, the revolution of democracy, ushered in an age of enlightenment the likes of which had never been seen in the ancient world. Democracy had infused the people of Athens with such genius that Athens became the singular cultural nexus of the known world within 150 years. The city-states of Sparta, Memnos, Budapest and Bucharest were impelled to under the flag of Athens' towering genius. The Greek empire positively hummed with progressive culture and staggering intellectual prowess. Its influence blanketed Eastern Europe unopposed for 300 years. It was the birth of of the mind of man, the dawn of the Hellenic era.\n\nWord of Athens' cultural supremacy and genius spread far and wide. Learned men the world over were captivated by its political and spiritual dynamism. City states as far flung as Zanibar, Cape Town, Jerusalem, Yerevan, Singapore and even Hong Kong pledged their impressed allegiance to the Greek ideal. A league was formed, a league in which trade and culture flowed unimpeded across three continents. Only 300 years after the death of Pericles, a golden age of Greek culture began that, some historians would argue, has continued to this day.\n\nThe sheer supremacy of Greek culture kept the hated Persians in check as democracy spread into central Europe throughout the fourth century. An advancing Roman army was soundly defeated at the First Battle of Venice in 423. Rome was sacked only a decade later. The Greeks now controlled the entire central Mediterranean passage. Their armies, lead by the legendary Achilles, appeared unstoppable. The Greek navy patrolled the Med unopposed.\n\nThe city of Argos was founded in the fertile Nile delta just as the eager Germanic tribes ventured south looking for conquest. They were met on the field first by the forces of Budapest, who had become the staunchest ally of the Greeks, first. As the Greek army headed north to harass the invading tribesmen as they passed through a key fortified mountain pass into the subcontinent, the Greek heavy horse was flung far across the empire acting as emissaries and scouts for democracy at the time. The Germanic tribes, keen on invading before the Greek cavalry could reinforce its elite Spartan Hoplites, pressed their attack south through harassing fire from brilliantly designed Budapesti mountain fortresses. Their advance slowed, which bought a young Greek general named Alexander enough time to coordinate a massive cavalry recall across no less than six countries simultaneously. In one of the most brilliant military maneuvers of the ancient world, the Spartan Hoplites baited the advancing Germanic armies into a series of steep, wooded mountain valleys at the exact instant that the disparate Greek cavalry arrived at their perfectly coordinated flanking positions. The Germans were annihilated, which opened the door for Alexander to wage a protracted siege war on Berlin and Hamburg simultaneously, both of which fell within two years of The Battle of Budapest. Before his 22nd birthday, Alexander had spread the Greek empire to northern continental Europe.\n\nMaritime trade flourished. The Greeks were flush with treasure and exotic trade goods. The Greek philosopher Socrates' corpus of work was interred at the legendary Athenian Odeon, and later moved to the Uffezi, one of the seven ancient wonders of the world. Istanbul fell to Alexander's army in 510 AD after a brilliant amphibious landing flank attack on the Persian rear guard pikemen that guarded the riverine approach into Istanbul. Thebes fell soon after, but only after Alexander liberated the city-state of Yeveran after it fell to the Mongolian Horde in the year 513. By the time Thebes was rebuilt and democratized, the Greek empire stretched from southern Africa to Denmark, from the Iberian peninsula to Jerusalem. The Greek trade network stretched from the Med to as far away as Japan and every square foot of water from the Rock of Gibraltar to the Black sea was under the jurisdiction of the Greek navy, unmatched in the world. The military brilliance of Alexander, now known as Alexander the Great, produced other luminary generals as Erwin Rommel and Geronimo, each of whom oversaw areas of influence roughly the size of Spain and Germany, respectively. Before his death, Alexander convened the first ever World Congress in order to further civilize and democratize European civilizations and city-states. At the time of his passing, Alexander the Great was known as the Commodore of the Mediterranean and Black seas, Emperor of Rome, Kaiser of the Germanic States, God-Pharaoh of Egypt, Grand Imam and Sultan of the Ottoman Empire, Chosen of the Gods and the greatest military commander in the history of the world.", "By the turn of the 20th century, there were only 12 unified states remaining. Split into two unbreakable alliances -- the Allied Powers of Japan, Venice, America, England, China, and Korea and the United Powers of Russia, Brazil, Egypt, India, Austria, and the Iroquois -- the global war built to a fever pitch. War burned in both the North and South of the Inner Sea. Russia was quick to conquer Korea in 1920 and along with Egypt's help, America and England were almost overrun by the time Japan intervened. Without smaller nations to trade with, Venice was quickly surrounded and contained by combined Indian and Brazilian forces, eventually being sacked and annexed in 1926 by the nearby Brazilians. Korea and Venice would each be liberated, in 1930 and 1975 respectively, as Japan attained superpower status, but neither nation would ever fully recover from the devastation of invasion and liberation.\n\nWhile the rest of its allies were being heavily assaulted, isolated Japan focused inwards, building a capital that would become the envy of the world, containing such sites as Big Ben, Brandenburg Gate, Broadway, and the Statue of Liberty, all within a few short years. As allies began to fall, Japan redirected its massive wealth towards its previously undisciplined army. Between 1920 and 1935, Japan conscripted almost one tenth of its population, made massive technological leaps, and waged a 4 front war in an attempt to protect what remained of the nations it had promised to defend. \n\nIn the summer of 1920, Japan invaded the unprotected northern outskirts of Novgorod, drawing most of Russia's troops away from New York and away from the now broken lines of the US. With the heavy forestation and high mountains around Novgorod, Japanese artillery was severely limited in effectiveness and even infantry forces could not maneuver well. Japan's invasion was too late and Seoul would be taken by a Russian army by November. \n\nWith the global lack of mineral resources, wars had to be fought almost entirely by massive infantry forces. Japan famously controlled the Inner Sea with a surprisingly small fleet of elite submarines, but the larger Outer Ocean was too large for submarines to properly patrol and sea trade was maintained in Brazil and Austria up until the ever-progressing Northern Front reached their shores. The skies were crucial turning points in several fronts of the global war, especially the latter half of the Japanese invasion of Brazil. However, no state could maintain a large enough air fleet due to a lack of oil. Winning tactics on both sides were characterized by large numbers of anti-aircraft units, leaving bombing raids too risky to be worthwhile. \n\nAs part of its war effort, Japan had refocused its efforts into war technology and over the course of 10 years, it developed the armaments of its regular foot soldiers to a level that it would take 40 years for the rest of the world to catch up to. With each new wave of recruits and arms, Japan slowly wore away at Russia's army, pushing it back to the sea. Russian forces pulled back to defend St. Petersburg, leaving former Korea open for liberation by a small detachment from the main Japanese forces in 1930. Soon after the fall of St. Petersburg, an undefended Moscow fell in 1931. \n\nWar-weary and recovering from massive casualties, the troops of the Russo-Japanese War were immediately reassigned East to the American-Egyptian border and North to the ongoing invasion of Brazil. While America's safety was insured with this move, it created a significant strain on Japanese culture and many policies, some progressive and some draconian, had to be enacted in order to keep the populace from revolting. These policies would come to define the Japanese Empire and would be crucial in maintaining production levels through the worst parts of the 50-Year War with Brazil.", "In the lands of far away Greece, while young Alexander was still building his empire, he was approached by Morroco, who sent him wonderful gifts of sugar for iron. Alexander met the Romans (who quit the game but shhh) and lastly Alexander of Greece met Japan on the same landmass", "The American Civil war only lasted 2 years. The Union not only captured the city of Mananas in the first month of war. But the Union blockade was rather ineffective for the first year of the war. While there was much bloodshed, the Union states never saw any off it. The ironclad never make it into battle but was a nice thought.", "The beginning: Entry 1: \n\nIt did not take long for the mighty city of Karakorum to become the home of many citizens. While other nations decided to create countless numbers of cities we, the Mongolian people, bided our time. It wasn't long before we became a hub of technological advancement. \n\nWe first encountered the French and that little man Napoleon. He was friendly & became a trusted ally. We quickly became aware of the mighty Americans & their wig wearing tyrant Washington. He was neutral towards us for awhile & even traded us a few coins over sometime for the rights to our sugar.\n\nWhile he liked our sugar arrangement Washington decided he liked Frances land even more. War broke out & Washington soon found himself on the defensive. As Philadelphia fell at the hands of the French I made a choice to use this opportunity to expand the Mongolian Empire. \n\nAfter denouncing the American aggressors I swiftly declared war & easily took the city of Chicago for my own.\n\nAs the war between the French & the Americans continued a new war had started between France and the Persians. This is where I made a possible mistake. I decided that it had been so easy to attack a distracted America I could use the same strategy against the Persians.\n\nI did so, & they easily fell, not one city but two. The problem I found was that I had become a \"War Mongerer\". That led to the powerful Egyptians & the vengeful Vikings declaring war against me.\n\nThe Vikings turned out to be all bluster & their distance to my empire made them a little threat. The Egyptians however were an annoyance to my newly annexed Persian cities. \n\nThe worst part though was that the damned Egyptians turned the closest city-state Byblos against me. This ruined one of my Caravan routes & the financial costs of all these wars nearly bankrupted me.\n\nWhere could the Great Mongolian Empire go from here? How could we recover? What became of our great French Allies? Find out in my next entry as time moves ever forward.", "In the year 2025AD the French where at peace with everyone, working on building the technology of the world. This all changed when President Gandhi felt at though he needed more land and decided to \"Peacefully remove one of french cities from existence\" little did France know Gandhi and the indians had studied nuclear power and to the shock of all the allied forces Gandhi nuked the french city of Lyon.\n\nI fucking hate Gandhi... lyon was my second City :(", "#The Franco-Greek War and The Development and Deployment of Nuclear Weapons\n\nThe Manhattan Project was initiated by the Greek Advanced Research council in 1944AD in reaction to the growing hegemony of Paris and Babylon. As Napoleon continued to encroach on his continental neighbors further enhanced the Greek imperative for technological supremacy. Before the project could be completed, the city state of Edinburgh became a puppet of the French Dominion. This event created an outcry amongst the city states that retained their independence and created a mandate for Greece to intervene in the affairs of the continent of Gaul. \n\nWith the support of the city states of the world, the Greek Quorum voted to declare war on the French Dominion and thus engaged in the most destructive war ever fought on Gaia. The Greeks maintained maritime superiority through their early successful development of submarine craft during the Greko—Song resource wars, which led to the Greek push into the Carpathian Range and it's rich aluminum resources which would be used to create the Stealth Bombers that would be one of the most important assets in winning the city back. The outdated French forces were no match for the Hellenic Horde as the sprawling French empire had already severely expended it's war chest on the elimination of China and Russia off the face of the continent. \n\n\nAs the war progressed opinion of the war within members of the Quorum soured, as they felt that the war they engaged in felt more and more like a quagmire. Public opinion of the Doge and the Quorum continued to decline until the Doge Alexander the XIX issued the approval of a nuclear launch on Paris; a show of force to the world of the Hellenic Alliance's mandate to protect the sovereignty of it's allies. This was soon followed by a second attack on the city of Toulouse, the foothold of the French forces near Edinburgh as Arabian and Greek forces bombarded French defenses. The war would be won by 1965 and bring an era of prosperity of the Hellenic Alliance. ", "Karlsson, Thorvald. *The Fall of Rome to the Caroleans of Sweden.* Stockholm: University of Stockholm Press, 1981.\n\nForward by Augustus of Setia:\n\nWe are far from Mother Rome and her glorious mountains of the Southern Sea. All that remains of our once vast homeland are a few young cities, bordering the small, invalid Mongol state. Once, we spread our roots like wild berries across the eastern isthmus of Malacca from the infertile lands that the barbarian hordes of Sweden held. Our lands were rich and full of promise. Once, our people built wondrous machines to better their lives and created wonders beyond the scope of imagination. Great works of Art brought us to the forefront of influence over many cultures. Our metropolitan cities were filled with followers of many different beliefs and creeds. That must be why the coveted them so.\n\nIt has been fifty years since that Alliance of the Swedes and Zulus reduced our great, rich empire. Although little is remembered of the Zulu invasions, it is known that they did take one of our outlying cities of Neapolis in 1868 CE, then then Antium and Arpinum nearly sixty years later, but little effort was put towards defending against them compared to the barbarian hordes of Sweden. \n\nTo understand the Swedish invasion of our Roman Empire, one must understand the lands that shaped Swedish culture. Sweden was a mountainous country with a vast tundra to its south, A deep forest shared with the even more barbarous Huns to the north and west, the Great Ocean also to the west and to their east, an isthmus splitting the Great Inland Sea from the Southern Ocean. Hard lands breed hard peoples, and the Swedish and the Huns were no different. \n\nLegend has it, that Sweden began its existence as a cultured people, focusing on the development of wonders. Their Great Library to this day remains a testament of that Artistry, and early scientific knowledge. But early in their history (dated to around 1000 BCE) The Hunnic barbarians attacked and sundered early Swedish coastal settlements on the Great Ocean. Begging the Huns to spare their great capital of Stockholm, the Swedes sued for an uneven peace. Many wars were fought between the Huns and the Swedish until 1650 CE, when the Swedish and the great Northern Empire of Poland annihilated the Hunnic threat once and for all. But since the first invasions, the Swedish national psyche never recovered from the bullying they suffered early on by the Huns. They hungered now for the blood of the innocent.\n\nThis merciless attitude, however, continued to be a staple of the Swedish barbarian. Our warm relations with them triggered envy, as our technology far eclipsed theirs. Our blue jeans and pop music flooded their markets with cheap technologies and put many of their skilled artisans out of work. Our mastery of electricity and the world at large also drew their ire. \n\nBut their martial culture could never be surpassed. The Swedish are a patriotic, xenophobic group. Their great martial King, Charles I, created the Carolean guide, a tactical doctrine of highly disciplined rifle-armed troops. Their stamina on and off of the battlefield was marvelous, and their warriors were fierce. Although their weapons were poor compared to that of our Infantry at the onset of the Great War, their numbers, high training standards and Artillery prowess more than compensated for their small formation sizes. \n\nIn the year of 1856CE, in concert with the Zulu Kingdom to our North, the Swedish invaded from their eastern city of Uppsala across the Isthmus of Malacca and descended upon our frontier towns of Circei, Setia and Arretium. Circei fell first, after a six year siege to the Swedish, while our eastern city of Neapolis was besieged by the Zulu. Our people fought valiantly, but those Carolean troops that were destroyed saw themselves replaced by new, equally disciplined units arriving from far away Stockholm and Sigtuna. While Setia (north-west of Circei) remained under bombardment, the Swedish saw more value in driving further east, deeper into our empire, and laid siege to Arretium, which fell in two years by 1864 CE. With that defeat, a 20 year truce was agreed upon between the Swedish barbarians and Rome. \n\nAlthough divided into a northern exclave and a southern rump government, the People's Empire of Rome continued to produce many great works and wondrous buildings to supply the imagination of our people. We had hoped that the Swedish were satisfied with their gains, but prepared for the worst by upgrading new infantry tactics and developed the combustion engine. Great new Ironclads and Battleships were developed in the ports of Mediolanum, Cumae and Ardea for combat in the Southern Sea to combat the Swedish pirates still anchored in the age of Sail. Nuclear power was even developed, and Rome had begun to explore a weaponization of that great, seemingly infinite power. \n\nBut the truce ended immediately with the advent of 1884CE, and Rome was plunged into a fifty year conflict with the Swedish barbarians. Carolean troops smashed southward into the core territories of old Rome. Within four years, Ravenna and its countless wonders had fallen to the Swedes. Six years later, the great base of Mediolanum fell to the Swedes as well, forcing our battleships further south. There was little that could be done to stem the tide; the Swedish seemed as though guided by a divine being, with impeccable intuition and strategic sense. \n\nOn the Rome-Ravenna-Mediolanum Road, a great Citadel was built by the Swedish General Robert Lee. The Swedes dug in, to defend themselves from the assault of countless waves of the better armed Roman troops. Displeased by their lack of progress, King Charles son, the Crown Prince William, (known as William the Conqueror) arrived to motivate the troops with reinforcements from the Himeji fief in the Hunnic lands; horsemen known only by their fearsome cry of \"Haakaapelliittaa!\" Inspired by the arrival of their Crown Prince, the Swedish horde descended upon Rome and sacked the city in 1901CE. \n\nThe Empire proper then fell into a state of disarray. A provisional government was established at Cumae deep in the cold tundras of the south, well known as the primary naval base for Rome in the Southern sea. But political intrigue seemingly began between the Admiral Calonymus and the General Maurice of Nassau over the command of the Empire. Though Calonymus would be victorious, it mattered little. The resistance at Cumae collapsed in 1904 CE, and the capital was again moved further east to the Eastern sea port of Arpinum, near the border with neutral Russia. The invincible Caroleans had seemingly had their fill for a generation, after conquering the snowy canal city of Ardea further south or Cumae, and promptly ended their war with the Roman Remnant. The Zulu invasion would continue until both Antium and Arpinum, the last of the old Imperial cities fell to barbarians. \n\nOf our lands that survived, the North Roman exclave remained independent of Swedish interests. Our new capital of Setia is but a shadow of Rome's glory, yet it contains as many, if not more people than Rome ever did. The new northern port of Satricum allows us trade with our new allies, the Polish and Mongolians. Slowly, the Swedish have been adapting our technologies, and stealing our culture to serve their own. The Carolean ways are being blended with our old Roman weapons manufacturing systems. As the Swedish grow more powerful, our hope is that they will arouse the same jealousy in others like Poland and Russia, that we once did in the Swedish. We hope that one day the stain of Swedish influence can be removed from our lands with the help of atomic weapons and the generosity of others. \n\nBut that is a great deal to hope. The Swedish God is the True God. Their religion of Shinto truly does connect them to holy forces. They are a hard people put to the test by their all knowing God. He knows all and sees all, and has guided them well to fell our mighty Empire. How else could those barbarians have brought our people to the brink of poverty and extinction?", "The Civ, meticulosity managed to the point of obsessive psychosis, manages to make way into the modern age! Having steadily grown extraordinarily wealthy, influential, prosperous and powerful, the Civ is on its way to easy world dominance. \n\nUnfortunately, the Civ's original settler, named Barney, found himself stranded on a *huge* and *randomized* map with sixteen other Civs...and something terribly wrong began happening in the 20th century. A sense of being astronomically overwhelmed palls the entire land; the hills, the fields, the urban streets paved with gold -- what once was the greatest Civ ever crafted simply became a fable... forgotten about and frozen in time.\n\nPerhaps the great Civ will one day be restarted and sent to Alpha Centauri in a resplendent, fiery rocket ship, but it's likely a new game was begun.\n\n\n\n", "Upon rising from the uncertainty of seasonal hunting and gathering, following animal herds and the natural habits of fish, the Turkish tribesmen came across an unusually large island which they would call Turkey in the midst of this world of ocean and small life-less rocks. Although at its heart the island was rugged, with mountains holding nothing of worth, the fringes and coastline could offer abundance to nomads for the first time. They settled on the banks of a mighty river where it's mouth greets the boundless ocean. They called the city Constantinople despite the vast majority of settlers demanding it take the more fitting title Istanbul. The city was magnificent and it grew wealthy off the discovery of whales, who's meat and fat became highly lucrative. From the surrounding marsh, farms were built and took seed and harvest quickly. \n\nBut there were some who cared for the old ways too much, feeling robbed of cultural heritage and custom. In less than one hundred years a group of colonists left for the wild, unexplored northern fringes of this island of this promised land. There they founded Istanbul, far away from the lavish and corrupt streets of Constantinople who had more mind to construct glorified or \"great\" lighthouses and massive \"colossal\" statues to the entrance of its vain harbour. Although the old city was rich, it was starving, and it's people were bent on rebellion. \n\nSoon Istanbul grew to everything Constantinople was supposed to be and more as culture and religion there was so prominent it became contagious. Rich groves of natural citrus in the nearby jungle would make the city the jewel of the eastern ocean, as even upon first contact of others, the fruit was coveted by all. \n\nWith Istanbul less than seventy years old, an Ottoman ( a name adopted by the rulers of Istanbul, separate from those in Constantinople that considered themselves Byzantine ) Galleass came across a foreign vessel of similar make. To the south of the island of Turkey there was a sizeable population of people who called themselves\nAustrian, they would soon become great friends to the merchants of Constantinople, despite the Ottomans of Istanbul making first contact... An insult the Ottomans would never forget and certainly not forgive. \n\nBy 1125 AD the empire was growing to the north and the south-alike. A city called Ankara grew from intentional colonization of an island close to trusted allies in small town called Sophia. Although quite crude and aggressive these island-natives would prove to be both loyal and militaristic people, ideals the Ottomans shared openly. Every war from this year forward that the Ottomans fought would be fought with the aid of fanatical Sophian volunteers. \n\nTo the south the Byzantines in Constantinople had continued their blasphemous and excessive lifestyle. Although never truly solving the problem of feeding It's bloated and restless masses, the ruling elite of Constantinople saw to the construction of a great mausoleum in the city's downtown district, beside the lavish monuments to oracles and mystics. The death of a notable merchant also caused the construction of several giant tombs forever known as \"Pyramids\" due to their odd shape. Constantinople always in need for showboating, expanded to the west and southwest at the same time, founding Edirne and settling a region called Anatolia within the same year. \n\nDue to its proximity to the Austrians and considerable distance from its mother-city, the people of Edirne became quite militarized, and almost immediately walls and even the first castle was raised to defend the foothold on this new island. Despite attempts to settle differences and polite negotiation, the Austrians continued settling close to what the people of Edirne considered its territory. The Austrian cities of Salzburg and Linz were both now attempting to threaten connections to the home island. \n\nThe people of Edirne turned to Constantinople for permission to declare war but they were denied, the trade to Vienna was too valuable to lose as the yearly trade was now in the millions of dollars for both sides. \n\nThis move would forever mark a turning point on the island of Turkey. Despite originally being of Constantinople the people of Edirne turned to the more war-like rulers of Istanbul for leadership in 1356 AD after a bloody coup rocked the city to its core. \n\nAnatolia now seeing the writing on the wall, also mirrored Edirne in accepting advice only from Istanbul. This move would forever cripple the legendary city of Constantinople and from 1453 AD on the city would be smaller in population and less influential than its northern sister-city. \n\nAlthough tensions were always at a high with Vienna it would not be until 1644 AD that war finally broke out. The Austrians despite being warned, decided to found a new city within mere miles of Istanbul, on a tiny section of land still available on the island of Turkey. Constantinople now shaken awake from its dream of appeasement and lucrative trade, awoke to the realization that it was being threatened, now even at home and not just overseas (trade from the newly minted ally of France probably had NOTHING to do with that decision either). For the very first time the two great Turkish cities allied under one banner. Not having the strength to fight or leadership to do so, Constantinople accepted generous terms from Istanbul to join the unified Ottoman Empire, a new force to be reckoned with. \n\nThe war now rages on... The Ottomans move to besiege the fortress-city of Salzburg from\nboth land and sea, and the Austrians retaliate by bombarding Istanbul itself, something they will pay for by the end of this, that can be assured. \n\nShould I post the battles / continue or nah? \n\n\n\n\n\n ", "In the beginning, God created man and gave him civilization. He bade him to wrest command of the earth and defeat all who opposed His chosen people. For a time, things were good.\n\nBut then God realized he had a lot of things to do and left the world, never to return. \n\nAnd man waited.", " 'Twas a long fucking time ago and Augustus Caesar set down the glorious city of 'Kevin' surrounded by the less impressive cities of 'butt' and 'buttt'. Nearly all the citizens where illiterate so the glorious supreme leader Clyde decided to spend all of the funds on building libraries instead of an army. While our small band of expertly trained warriors set out to explore the northern mountains they came across a band of savages.\n Our great leader responded by MEETING THOSE GERMAN COCKSUCKERS HEAD ON AND BASHING IN THEIR STUPID STEEL COVERED SKULLS WITH HIS GREAT iron sword AND TEACHING THEM WHO REALLY WAS BOSS. After a strategic defeat he set all of his great cities to build catapults and never let those god damn northern savage fucks get past the mountain path again. \n \n 'Twas slightly less long ago, and after creating a great army of musket men and marching up out of the mountain pass he met the German scourge once more. \"This time the odds are more even\" is what the cowards probably thought. What our glorious emperor was thinking about was far to advanced for mortal minds to comprehend, probably about millions of things at a time. And just as our great army was about to take out these horrible savages we were greeted by FUCKING SIAMESE ELEPHANTS, LIKE HOW ARE THEY ABLE TO TAKE OUT SO MUCH? THEYRE FROM FUCKING AGES AGO??? But as always our great leader kept a cool head, as e watched everything he worked on for hours get burned down by yellow elephants. ;_;", "Queen Elizabeth was to settle amongst the flood plains, where the wheat thrived and the fresh crops burst alive. It was far inland, so no renaissance navy could outright beseige them, which was nice. It rose into question, however, the authenticity of the great sea fleet the Queen dreamt of creating.\n\n\"We'll invent sailing, optics, and circumnavigate the globe with our advanced manuevering!\" cried the Queen, from her writing desk. \"But first: Zoroastrianism!\" The pious Queen's shrines and monuments flourished, and she smugly founded a pantheon. Then she built a granary, and a culture of hard workers. News of the Queen's many acquisitions spread far, far, away, and her lone warrior marched through hell and high water to reach the edge of the continent.\n\nInstead, the Queen met Brussels, and Mt. Isa. The Queen was left with a predicament: to settle a port by the ocean with many a lighthouse, or to claim the holy lands of a faith so dear to her heart.\n\nThe Queen tore up her ocean maps and sent the first settler inland, towards Mt Isa. She heard reports of barbarians: of a man with fiery eyes, with the heart of a barbarian but the brain of a scholar. His name was Montezuma, and he was the leader of a great tribe called the Aztecs.\n\nBefore The Queen could claim Mt. Isa and greet it in her favoured pastels, her settlers were captured by barbarians lurking past the mountain itself. The Queen's warrior was off exploring distant lands. \"Come back! Back towards the barbarians! Bollocks, not that way! They're taking the settler over there now! Where is their camp? Argh!\" The Queen shouted.\n\nThe Aztecs declared they were now defending Brussels, and any action taken against Brussels would lead to war. \"That doesn't even make sense,\" the Queen muttered angrily. \"The only resource they have is crabs! You can get that from a cheap whore at a massage parlour.\"\n\nThe Queen had already pissed off Brussels mightily by sending her warrior exploring through its foreign territory. Her warrior was being attacked by another barbarian of a neighbouring camp, who Brussels was equally nervous about. \"Oh good,\" the Queen said. \"I can kill this camp for Brussels, and we can be friends again.\" It wouldn't hurt to have an early ally.\n\nUnfortunately, the Queen had encouraged her people towards Tradition, and Piety, and they didn't yet like the thought of stabbing brutes like she did. Her warrior struggled against the encampment, weakened by the double onslaught of archer and brute alike.\n\n\"This is taking too long,\" the Queen moaned while her warrior fled and healed. She just wanted to settle the damn city, but it was impossible with all these barbarians about. The Queen changed London's production to training skilled fighters.\n\nThe fighters came, and the other warrior died at the hands of inattentively towards a double onslaught. \n\n\"Today we fight our fallen warriors, who first walked the plains to become Great Britian.\"\n\nThe encampment was cleared for Brussels. Bonds and smiles were made that day. The Queen also discovered, and explored ancient Runes, equipping her warrior with advanced swordsman technology.\n\n\"Enough twiddling around,\" The Queen declared. \"Time to invade the other barbarian camp, and get back my settler.\"\n\nThe Queen, feeling confident with recent upgrades, directed her swordsman towards the barbarian camp where her settler still waited.\n\nHer heart sunk. Her fleets halted.\n\nThe Queen's good friend Brussels had claimed Mt. Isa. The mountain she had fought so long and hard to settle. \"You knew I wanted Isa!\" The Queen raged. She whispered: \"you knew.\"\n\nThe Queen declared war on Brussels. In response, Montezuma declared war on Queen Elizabeth.\n\nHer frock flapped in the breeze. Elizabeth stared Montezuma down on the battlefield, his eyes blazing as strong as they always had. His spear as tough as the Oceans.\n\n\"I can't fight you, Montezuma,\" Elizabeth said. \"What about our mutual embassy?\" She had a healthy respect for Montezuma's army and wrathful spirit.\n\n\"We were never friends,\" said Montezuma in his own tongue, as his army of jaguars marched forward. \"My conscience is clear!\"\n\nElizabeth shook her head. Her eyes wandered to the dark silouhette of the mighty mountain.\n\n\"Fight me, Elizabeth! Show me your spirit!\"\n\nElizabeth's spirit was holy. It was not vengeful, after all. She wouldn't invade Brussels.\n\n\"Elizabeth, what are you doing? Elizabeth?\"\n\nWith mighty flings of her powerful throwing knife, Elizabeth destroyed her own swordsman. She barely escaped alive.\n\nElizabeth turned to Montezuma, and smiled. \"We peacefully concede. Care to sail the world with me?\"\n\nThey became known as King Montezuma, and Queen Elizabeth the Great, of The Aztecs. \n\nA civilisation fell.\n\nBut on a chain around the Queen's neck, glinted the gold light of Zoroastrianism. While she breathed, Elizabeth would feel the flicker of flames in her belly, and the faraway rasp of the sea.", "\"Beijing began as a war-like city state in the central jungles of the lower continent. It attacked the roaming bands of barbarians at the jungle's edge; looting their camps for resources to bring back to the city. In one such camp, dear-leader Wu Zeitan found a number of slaves who claimed to have come from a society living in the desert to the south.\n\nThe dear-leader sent her army along the river through the desert to investigate, assuming that any competent society would settle alongside it. Sure enough, at the southern edge of the lower continent lay the lands of Dehli. It's leader, Ghandi, foolishly believed in peaceful resolutions to conflict and had allowed the lands to be overrun by raiders. Wu Zeitan used her army to restore order to the land so that the trade of its gems and gold could be properly managed, and the people at Dehli swore their loyalty to the immortal savior of their homes.\n\nWu Zeitan used the resources of the desert, shielded by the jungle and her armies to the north, to establish an age of prosperity trading with the other developing nations of the lower continent. Of particular note were the polish, led by Casimir III, who recognized the strength of what then became known as the Empire of China. Although they also benefited from the jungle and our Dear Leader's strength and wisdom deterring would-be aggressors from the northern continent, Casimir III wisely chose to develop his own military and become a collaborator in the south's stability.\n\nThrough strength and trade, the Empire of China flourished for Hundreds of years and won the loyalty of many nearby city states and the respect & envy of would-be competitors. To the North, Askia, Montezuma, and their ilk hated the stability of the southern continent. They and the other barbarian warlords of the north fought many battles, and their armies often looked to the south for its resources only to be deterred at the Great Wall of the Isthmus, defended by the elite among the dear leader's army. Her strength was coveted, and she was often invited into their skirmishes, but chose to refrain from they're pointless warfare.\n\nThe dear leader's wisdom understood that war was only a means, not an end. However, as technology advanced with time the people grew uneasy with the ways of the Northern Continent. City states called upon the Empire of China to save them from the tempest. The South had come to believe in a global church of prosperity, which begged the dear leader to liberate the cities and believers of the north who longed for the kind of prosperity they saw across a narrow strip of land. With the discovery of the repeating crossbow, the dear-leader's most trusted military adviser suggested that it was time for our barbarous neighbors to go extinct.\n\nMoved by the cries of the people, the dear leader marched her armies North. Zealots of the world church from cities ravaged by warlords rushed to assist the liberating armies, and their untied force crushed the barbarian armies under heel. Askia, by then the king of the barbarians, fled with a foreign power across the sea. \nHowever, the south did not escape unscathed.\n\nCasmir, sensing opportunity and blinded by greed, chose to betray the great coalition of the south when the dear leader answered the call to the north. His people did not worship in the global church, and they attacked the heart of the Empire while the main Army was away.\n\nHowever, the dear leader's greatness is more than just her military might. The great age of prosperity had filled the Empire's vaults with enough money and treasure to raise an army of mercenaries, trained to use the Empire's superior military technology. Those not moved by gold were moved by faith, as the Empire's own global church members took up arms to defend the now sanctified city from which stability and prosperity flowed. Casimir fell before the power of the traders in Dehli and the Global Church.\n\nIn her benevolence and infinite mercy, and in recognition of their many generations of service to the stability of the south, Dear Leader Wu Zeitan allowed Poland to become members of the Empire with full citizenship (a right the northern cities would not have for 2 centuries) so long as they abandoned the cult-like worship of Casimir the betrayer. The loyalist worshipers of Casimir faded quickly with time and the Polish people became united with the Empire once more.\n\nSadly, the holy crusade could not be called finished. One of the greatest military minds, Prof. Clausewitz, theorized that for Askia to have escaped across the ocean in the arms of these \"French,\" whoever they were, there must be a place for them to go. Clausewitz predicted a third continent, with nations as technologically advanced as the empire to be able to send military forces to Askia's aid. Further, that they were willing to welcome such filth as the king of the barbarians, Clausewitz concluded the residents of the third continent would be a threat to the Empires new-found stability.\n\nHe proposed a solution, carriages made of metal that spit fire and crossed the land with speed greater than that of horses. The Empire would build this army of \"tanks\" and send them across the ocean after Askia, and engage the enemies on the third continent pre-emptively. Although he was not gifted with immortality as the Dear Leader is, Clausewitz lives on through the legacy of his brilliance. The empire executed his plan perfectly, seeking out the new world and ending the threat of their anarchism to the Empire's perfect autocracy before it began. Defeated by the technological leaps of the Empire, and cowed by the dear Leaders near unanimous election by the world church and world government as the ideal ruler, the anarchists were forced to see the errors of their ways and were quickly colonized by the empire in 1822 AD.\n\nThat was the beginning of the dear leader's new world order, ushering in this second great age of prosperity in which we all live; which is why we remind ourselves each morning to devote ourselves to the further protection of our stable, prosperous empire and the Dear Leader.\n\n -The History and Purpose of the Daily Devotional\n Hail Wu Zeitan!\n\n ", "General Bismark and his troops approached the site. \"This is perfect.\" One of his men said, \"Two rivers cross here, and we are adjacent to the coast. We could build a navy here.\" General Bismark agreed and immediately ordered his men to set up camp. The general and his troops spent a full week developing the site into a city, and a decade to develop it into a habitable city. Bismark sent his workers out to gather more resources, and sent his soldiers to claim more land. After another decade passed, Berlin had become an economic center for the region. Bismark called his troops into a meeting. \"Alright gentlemen,\" the general began the meeting, \"We've been a military camp long enough, and have developed into a city. It's time we found an empire.\" The troops immediately went into debates and discussions about this new empire, until Bismark called the meeting to a silence. \"I have the final decision here, and I will decide how this empire be run.\" Bismark began his speech. \"I will hereby designate our territory as 'The German Empire.' We will expand and conquer, we will found new cities and we will dominate this continent.\" Bismark further went into his speech, rallying the troops to his way with words. One soldier interrupted, \"And to officiate this empire, I propose we choose an emperor. Who better to run this empire than you, General?\" The rest of the soldiers agreed, bringing a smile to his face. A soldier fashioned a crown out of iron, and a month later, bore it before the Berlin people. Bismark stepped forward, draped in fine imperial attire, and knelt before his people. Bismark's right hand general stepped forward, and gently placed the iron crown on his head. Bismark stood up and spoke before the assembly, expressing his intent to expand and conquer. The people cheered, and Bismark, turning around, saluted the temple of Jupiter, where he was being coronated. As the years passed, the German Empire annexed more territory, founding new cities, they became a global power in a matter of centuries. The Germans had a policy of recruiting defeated barbarians into their army. German military tech and tactics made the cost of maintaining a fleet and an army divide in half. Before long, a German scout approached another great empire. He was immediately detained and brought to the imperial palace. The scout was brought before Queen Isabella. \"What business do you have here? In the Spanish Empire?\" The scout responded, \"I have been given orders by the Emperor Bismarc of Germany to scout out other empires.\" The Queen smiled, thinking of the prospect of allies, asked the scout to arrange a meeting with Bismarc. Later that week, German chariots carried Emperor Bismarc to the Spanish palace, where he was warmly greeted by Isabella. \"I hear that the German crown is made of iron to symbolize Germany's militaristic nature.\" Bismarc agreed, and promptly asked the reason for the meeting. Isabella told him that it would be in the best interests of both nations to enter into an economic contract. Bismarc was prepared, and proposed that Germany would convert to Christianity in exchange for iron. Isabella agreed, and the two signed the treaty. Suddenly, the two heard a booming voice from above say \"Gotta go, bye.\" And they watched as everything descended into darkness, until a Windows 7 monitor popped up.", "*Excerpt from the Journal of Ludwig Von Haas, German Historian*\n\nIt was three years ago that the bombardment of Hamburg commenced. During my journey's on that distant continent, I witnessed the rapid militarization of our distant brethren. I thought it was merely precautionary, or that they were simply going to finish off the remainder of the Chinese Empire still gasping for breath along the northern coasts.\n\nI was right about that.\n\nBut I truly didn't realize how large their military was.\n\nit is important to give some context to the Austrian Empire. They are an enigma upon the face of this planet, but we believe we can now place their origin correctly. While they and four other major civilizations took form over thousands of years in that distant land, Austria was the only anomaly. Their linguistic origin is more liken to our own; Not that of China, Mongolia, India, or Assyria. Their languages are all linked in very subtle ways; the Austrians are of a different lineage.\n\nIt was Frederick Luther who first posited that the Austrian Empire may have originated on our continent in the distant pages of prehistory. The linguistic similarities would thus be explained; If so, their most likely route was eastward past Melbourne then by primitive boat across the sea. The journey may have taken hundreds of years; or it may have been one small group that partook in a single great journey. Record of such an expedition is of course lost, unless it exists within the libraries of the Austrian's themselves. I unfortunately was not given access to such places during my time in their land.\n\nI sometimes question people when they condemn the Austrian's for their conquests or their idealogical policies. Are we truly so different? When we analyze the formation of our empire, there are striking similarities. During the classical period, we conquered our Ethiopian neighbors, just as the Austrian's conquered the Assyrian's. There have been multiple wars where we have attempted to move northward into the lands of the Egyptians and the Incans, and we have failed. Why condemn the Austrian's for their success in their conquests over the Chinese, Mongolians, and Indians, when we tried the exact same thing to our neighbors?\n\nThat is why I sit here in Hamburg, observing the siege. We German's know the Austrian's better than any of our neighbors. I want to see their faces when they finally arrive on our shores. I want to speak with them about why they have come; why they were not content with only their continent. Perhaps they are simply returning home. \n\nWhen our planes finally fall from the sky, and their battleships roll upon us from the waves, I hopefully will have my answer. I hope to welcome our enemy as any true German would; with honor and respect for their conquest in succeeding where we have failed. If the past one hundred years have shown anything, the invasion of Hamburg is simply only the beginning. I will not let history be written by the victors. They may eventually be the only civilization to stand the test of time; but my words will stand strong in the background.\n\n*Translated from German into Austrian, 1843 A.D., 6 months after the conquest of Hamburg and the death of Ludwig Von Haas*\n\n", "The origins of our great Nation are shrouded in mystery - the passage of time has erased any trace of the nomadic existence of our ancestors. Who were they? From whence did they come? It is unknown, save for one aspect - they had somehow learned to make beautiful pottery and domesticated most of the useful animals we know today.\n\nThe great city of Rome was founded a bit later than the other great cities of antiquity, but our first historical records tell of the great debate between settlers - should they remain on the bank of the great estuary they had just found, or strike a bit further inland, in search of more abundant pasture? In the event, a balance was struck, and so Rome was graced by the Fates with access to both the sea to the west and copper-rich mountains to the east.\n\nIt can be said that in that fateful first decision, the fount of our current prosperity, our profoundly devout culture and indeed of the global Pax Romana can be found.", "The Great Doge sat brooding in his study. Bad news was crowding in from every one of his advisors. Food was scarce and the people of Venice were crying out, there was not enough land to sow crops on, and too many citrus plantations, more spies than rats were to be found in the city's underbelly and France's armies were amassing in the alps. He knew he shouldn't have asked Napoleon to stop spreading his ridiculous \"Sikh\" religion, but he couldn't help it. He had not given gold to the Church of Venice months ago only to see Catholicism, the one true faith, supplanted by people spinning around in skirts !\n\n\"- They don't spin, your Serenissime Highness.\"\n\n\"- What ?\" The Doge cried, startled.\n\n\"- You were talking to yourself\", said the political advisor who had entered the room unbeknownst to the blind head of state, \"something about Sikh people spinning around in skirts ? \"\n\n\"- What ?\" His tone had changed to a deep growl, a warning to leave that most would have followed. But this one was a newcomer, and he blithely went on :\n\n\"- You were thinking of the Suffies, sir. They spin around in skirts because they believe it helps reach transe.\"\n\nThe flower pot exploded a few inches above the advisor's head. For a blind man, he had an astonishingly good aim. But the political advisor stood his ground. The Doge frowned, astonished to still be hearing the man's breath, though it was significantly faster.\n\n\"- What do you want. You have 20 seconds.\"\n\n\"- I have the answers, your Highness. From the Huns, Egypt and Brasil.\"\n\n\"- Well ?\" The Doge leaned forward, his face unreadable. \n\n\"- They have all agreed to trade with us. Attila will send salt, Ramses will send copper and we will receive silver from exotic Brasil.\"\n\n\"- Good, good. That should occupy the people for a little bit.\"\n\n\"- Also, we have received a call for help from Lincoln, who is suffering barbarian invasion at the moment. Their mines have stopped production.\"\n\nThere was a knock at the door and two more men entered. The first was old and gray, with smudges all over his frock. The second was a middled aged man, slight of build but cunning of composure.\n\n\"- My lord,\" said the first, \"You called for us.\"\n\n\"- Cesare, my trusted friend. Ships bearing copper and silver are bound for our harbor. I want you to find goldsmiths and jewellers from within the city walls to make these into beautiful objects. If there are few, find them apprentices. Give them money. You may take from treasury liberally to invest in the young ones.\"\n\n\"- I will do as you say. My Lord, there is a man waiting in the lobby. He says he is an artist and wishes to work for you. His name is Matisse.\"\n\n\"- As I am no longer able to judge the quality of his work, I leave it to you. If you think he is able, make him a commission and pay him lavishly. This will attract others.\"\n\nThe cultural advisor bowed and exited the room. His financial counterpart came forward.\n\n\"- My lord, I have had word from the shipyards. Your fleet is ready.\"\n\nThe Doge turned his sightless eyes on him. \"- Indeed ?\"\n\n\"- Yes, my lord. 11 cargo ships ready to send to the corners of the earth.\"\n\n\"- This is good news. Ensure there are priests on each of the boats, their orders will be to spread the word of God as far as possible. Also, I want one researcher from the academy on each boat to investigate other cultures and look for technologies we may not have.\"\n\n\"- But sir, the academy will be emptied.\"\n\nThe Doge readied himself for the biggest announcement yet. He knew his advisors would not appreciate it, but it was necessary.\n\n\"- We will make education free. Commission the building of a public school in every district of Venice.\"\n\n\"- But, my lord !\" Cried both advisors at the same time.\n\n\"- You will do as I say. It is necessary for Venice to use what assets it has, and amongst those is a growing population. They are poor, but they are numerous and we will make use of them to replenish our supplies of artists, artisans *and* academicians. It is an investment I believe will reward us well, most immediately by occupying the masses.\"\n\nThe advisors kept their silence, sensing the Doge was not finished.\n\n\"- Furthermore, the Milicia must recruit help. I wish to decrease the number of spies in my city, and for that we will need muscle. Send for the chief of the Carabinieri. I have instructions and a budget for him.\"\n\n\"- But sir,\" stammered the financial advisor, unwilling to contradict the Doge, \"the coffers will be emptied.\"\n\n\"- For a moment only. We are investing. First, citywide happiness will increase and soon our revenus as well. Lastly, I have a construction project in mind.\"\n\nHe indicated the large table on which plans were spread out. The advisors approached it gingerly, unwilling to disappoint their Doge yet unable to express enthusiasm. Their eyes widened as they saw the massive structure Enrico Dandolo had in mind.\n\n\"The.. The Kremlin, sir ?\"\n\n\n\n---\n*This is entitled Anachronism, because that's still one of my favorite aspects of Civ V. Also, long live Enrico Dandolo, Most Astute Doge of Venice*", "The fifth Cartheginian war was a brutal slog through the hills of Babylon, where upwards of one hundred thousand men perished on the blades of Ottoman cavalry and in the diminishing artillery barrages of Dido's Eastern Armies. Sultan Suleiman and the Glorious Empress Dido, blessings be upon her, had up until recently been unified in ideology and goal. Both socialist states had designs on the great helm of the eastern kingdom of Babylon, with its many wonders, valuable port, and favorable military location. They cut Nebudcanezer in half, decimating his technologically advanced but numerically inferior forces with siege tactics and willingness to extinguish tens of thousands of their own men to kill a few Babylonians. \nWhen the dust settled, Babylon flew the cartheginian flag, and the envious Sultan was enraged that the inferior northerners had succeeded where he had not. War for the remains of the ravaged kingdom was eminent, but generations of fighting had slowed Carthagenian progress to a crawl, and the Sultan's forces had taken much less punishment than those of the glorious empress. \n\n\nAs Dido hurried to defend her British holdings on the other end of her vast kingdom from the lowly southerners under Consul Askia of Songhai, the conniving Sultan invaded his supposed ally and quickly eviscerated the remains if the eastern forces. His artillery shook the earth, his cavalry set thousands of acres ablaze, and his infantry butchered regiment after regiment of the Carthaginian military. \nThe illustrious Empress was outnumbered, caught between foes with murder in their hearts. The empire was saved not by contrition nor deceit, but by railroads. The paltry infrastructure investments of recent years allowed rapid travel over hundreds of miles, feeding the eastern front with outdated but readily available mounted cavalry. They were outmatched by Suleiman, and a half dozen regiments threw themselves on the blades of the enemy just to stall their cursed advance. And then, a miracle. A scientist by the name of Socrates rose to fame in the capital, claiming to have discovered two fierce new instruments of conquest. First, the armored landship, a brutal cavalry replacement which would crush tend of thousands of ottomans before peace was made. The second was the destroyer, a punishing ship which would wrest the seas from the naval minded sultan. \n\n\nThe gifts of Socrates were built with blistering speed and sent hurdling into the Sultan's forces. His cavalry died by the thousands, his infantry was driven into the sea and blown away by marauding frigates. He lost Babylon, then Jerusalem, then more than half of his military before beseaching a ceasefire from gracious Dido. All in all Suleiman had extended a fist and withdrawn a bloody stump. His generals were dead, his navy in tatters, and his approval at home lower than ever. Dido went on to build her lands into a brilliant scientific paragon of rationalism, wealth and virtue, never to be challenged by the decrepit Sultan again", "Montezuma from the Aztecs was a simple ruler. He governed simple people. Montezuma also had simple relationships, trading his abundance of ivory for gems, pearls, and gold. They had a thing for gold. One thing that was not simple for Montezuma and the Aztecs was the relationship with Ghandi. \n\nGhandi was two-faced. A blatant liar. Only by the binding rules of trading was Montezuma able to score a trade with the scheming Ghandi and his greedy Indians. \nEven when a deal was struck, Montezuma always gave more to foster better relations. Many a time Ghandi abruptly ended trade contracts with Montezuma in order sack Montezuma's merchant cities. Montezuma then learned a lesson in dealing with Ghandi - work only in coin. \n\nTime passed. Nations grew. Montezuma became even more venerable in the world community. Nations came from far and wide to see his great floating gardens, beautiful orchestras, and well-seeded museums. Across the great Cumberdale pass, though, stood the great fortress-nation of Ghandi. . Ghandi controlled everything between the hunger stricken North and the bountiful South. His navy blockaded the trade routes by sea - many cargo ships lay in habor. The city-states payed tribute to the rule of the iron-handed Ghandi. Montezuma had always thought diplomacy was the best measure to sort out differences and divides between nations - despite his advisors recommending constructing a vast army and fleet in order to rescue the North from the grip of the tyrant Ghandi.\n\nOnly when Montezuma discovered the right way to fly, did Ghandi show his true face. \n\nWar. All out war. It was war coordinated, war planned - war all along. Ghandi had masterminded the art of trade, diplomacy, and coercion. Ghandi had everything. Everything, but the mystery of flight.", "The Cold War lasted from 1900-2050. It was a period of great tension between 2 very strong sides. Polynesia and England were the 2 strongest nations, and bitter enemies. On one side, there was Polynesia, with its allies of America, Rome, Germany and Russia. On the other hand, there was England, with its allies of Arabia and Byzantium. England and Polynesia often fought for control of the United Nations. There were a few showings of international solidarity, such as when Greece invaded Rome. Every nation declared war on the warmongering Greeks, and by the end of the war, they had but one city remaining. By the end of the Cold War, Polynesia and England had nuclear submarines patrolling each other's coastlines. England is considered to have won the Cold War by creating a huge tourism industry. Citizens of all nations flocked to see wonders such as the Eiffel Tower in the English capital of London.", "**The settling of City 4**\n\n>When the fourth city was settled, it was settled so to stop the expansion of Mongolia and Persia. While the land bore some resources, it had one major flaw. This flaw was that it was surrounded on all sides for miles by nothing but desert land. \n\n>Thus it was decided by the Wonderland council of Monument Hoarding that a newly envisioned wonder, dubbed \"Petra\", would be established in this land. Petra, upon its completion, would allow the city to take advantage of its normally uninhabitable surroundings and create a booming, productive, city.\n\n>For many hundreds of years, City 4, later dubbed \"Teppelin\", worked diligently on the construction of this Wonder. After a long period of work, the time neared that Petra was nearly completed. However, not all was well in the world. At this time, with but a single stone left to be placed, it would be that Napoleon of the French revealed his true nature.\n\n>In a truly cruel fashion, Napoleon completed work on his own version of Petra. Outraged, the Wonderland Council immediately decided that they could not allow work to continue, since their idea had been stolen. In one swift moment, it was then decided that an ancient war measure would be activated.\n\n>The Jaeger Project, as old as the Wonderland Civilization itself, was designed to combat any threat of any kind. Using ancient \"Pathfinder\" scouts to undergo rigorous training, known as a promotion, they were from then on able to wield a bow the likes of which had never been seen before, or again for many years. Training ever since by hunting the barbarian menace, the twin Jaegers have been considered a cultural staple in Wonderland society; never were they truly needed for defense, but always were they appreciated.\n\n>As retribution for France's blatant disregard of Wonderland's lack of respect for their right to build wonders, the Jaegers were activated. Now transcendent of their compound bows, they were truly a force to be feared. The Jaegers marched to the French border with Horsemen at their sides, treading the lands at an unparalleled pace.\n\n>It was not more than sixty years before all fourteen of France's cities fell.", "From the birth of humanity the great Russian President and the emperor of China were great friends. And although this synchronizing of goals served both empires well there were other contenders that wanted to reign supreme over the world. Japan and the iroquois forced our hand for the only thing they wanted was war. But this was a fatal mistake for impassable terrain separated Hiawatha and China. Impassable to the point that first discovery was from the port side of a caravel. Japan tried to invade Russia in winter. \n\nThe persians and the greeks were a funny lot. Not inclined to war and wanted nothing better to do than farm sheep or whatever they do in that foreign land.\n\nThat leaves us to do our bidding. And nothing says peace better than order.\n", "after defeating the neighboring Russians Cossack army, our veteran promoted pikeman unit was told to 'defend' at the mountain pass that once divided our two nations. \n\npikemen were forgotten about for a very long time while our civilization focused on mercantile endeavors and lost three ships in a row at sea and the omnipotent one could be heard shouting SERIOUSLY!? THREE IN A ROW? \n\nit was not until some time later, when a tank came rolling through the mountain pass, that the omnipotent one realized that epic Pikeman still existed. and in an epic re enactment of 300, the pikemen held their ground against a tank. \n\nTL:DR; Pikemen OP", "And thus, we can conclude the rise and fall of the Roman Empire. Through slaying of barbarians and introducing stolen greek culture, it would seem that it could hold on its own. But it would rise above aswell, over the ceiling, where no men have ever had a position. It rose to the heavens, building large and epic monuments, it striked down on whoever uninvited laid a feet upon their grounds. Exterminating the barbarian hordes and into America... It lasted through 3000-1000. America was absolutely filled with natives, druidists and shamanists controlled the people here. As the romans would take new ground and annex the cities they raided, after time it would form its own will. The Germans and the Celts who had constantly marched upon Rome now found itself marched upon. On its doors they pleaded and begged, sending gold and horses, but we know what happened. It was a mighty empire for a while until it suffered tremendous unhappiness by the population. The newfound cities would eventually turn to anarchy as they rebelled. Nothing was gained and Caesar had only to raze them to stop the rampage. Doing so would establish new barbaric tribes that when returned to Rome, he couldnt handle. The horde swept around the land, razing whatever city they could come by. And then... Across the sea, large and enormous ships came towards Rome, the flags was of red and white stripes and a countless number of stars. They called themselves the Americans and brought cannons and long guns. Returning to their homeland, and they slaughtered the whole of Rome in their path to salvation. The romans had but shield and sword, no man would survive, not even the Caesar. The Empire was forever dead and never to rise again. But remembered through ruins and the Americans stealing the roman culture. ", "**The mythical city of Amsterdam.**\n\n\"Ah... the Netherlands, crown of the world! Birthplace of all the world's great religions and corporations. Today's lecture will be about the gemstone in the crown, the mythical city of Amsterdam!\"\n\nA little boy with a kippa in the back of the classroom rose his hand. \"Sir, sir! Why do we have to learn this AGAIN?\"\n\nI gave him an angry look, while I rearranged my turban. \"Moses, would you please shut up and take an example from your neighbor, Ahmed? At least he is making notes.\"\n\nMoses made an embarresed look and stopped his interuption of my class. Finally I could continue. \"As I said, Amsterdam is the gem of the Netherlands. As you know, our ex-capital is full of great architecture. Let's see how well you studied. Who can tell me what the oldest building of Amsterdam is?\"\n\nNearly the entire class stood up to answer the question. I was happy our country was no longer a police state, but fortunately the schoolsystem was able to maintain the discipline learned in that time. Plenty of choice... Maybe I should ask the question to one of the students that didn't stand, so he or she will do the homework next time. \"Aaraal?\"\n\nAaraal, a girl that 'forgets' her homework way too often, stands up, a small hint of fear in her eyes. \"Eh... Em... The great wall, sir?\" I shook my head, and made a mental note. \"Did you do your homework, Aaraal?\" Aaraal looked to the floor. \"No sir.\" \"Well Aaraal, that'll be detention. The right answer, of course, is Stonehenge. You may all sit down. Open your history book op page 20394 and make the questions on the first half of the modern age.\"\n\nThe children sat down and started working. I opened my own history book, that was brought out just last year. It is a pity they were revised so often, but as we contact more and more foreign nations, the government wants to be sure all students know the best version of our history... If only I could teach my students the truth, it would be so much easier! But we'd lose prestige, which is negative for trade. Funny how we have so many religions, and still we worship money above all. Fortunately the part on the great architectural wonders of the world are all true. Our cities are the largests in the world. Our two largest cities, Amsterdam and the Hague are each larger than the three smallest empires that we know of. Amsterdam contains dozens of ancient superstructures, while the Hague is the founding place of most of the world's religions and 4 of it's 6 mega-corporations.\n\nOne of the children, Jan, stood up. \"Sir, page 20400 is about our wars with the Incan and Indian governments. It reads that THEY started it, but I thought...\" \"SILENCE!\" I shouted. \"The most recent book is ALWAYS the most up-to-date piece of knowledge on our past, and overrules previous teachings.\" \"Yes... Yes sir.\" he mumbled while she sat down.\n\nI went back to my own book. Where was I? Ah, yes! Fortunately most information in the book is true, it are only the military stories that are... adapted. Our ancestors DID build many great wonders in Amsterdam, and strange enough, no other empire ever build anything like them. The great continental war of the 4th century is a bit polished though. It was in the age where religion still caused tensions. Now, of course, all our peoples are free to believe what they want, unlike only a century ago, when the temples and monasteries of my own faith were the leading producers of art, science, commerce and materials. Our great leader Huanca Capac saw the rising military strength of our neighbors, the Incas and the Indians and decided to strike first. It's weird to talk about the Incas and the Indians though, as if they don't exist anymore. They still do, of course! They're just Dutch now. But we toppled their dictators, and brought them democracy. The theological oppression by Kublai Khan and the discrimaning caste-system of Hatsheput are just a memory now.\n\nI wonder by the way how Jan could be at page 20400 so fast. He probably studied ahead in the weekend. \"Jan, did you study ahead in the weekend?\" \"Yes sir, my parents want to take me to the Church of the nativity next weekend, so they had me study ahead.\" \"Good, tell your parents they have my approval! You might want to take some pictures of the combined headquarters of the 4 great companies there, for your assignment on Dutch corporatism next month\" \"Yes sir\"\n\nI was always amazed at the christians. They say their religious leader was executed by the Romans, but we only just discovered the Romans a decade ago. Well, I guess it's fine... My own religion's holy mountian wasn't discovered that long ago either.\n\nI continue to read my book. After our leader destroyed the other leaders on our continent we entered the modern age, and shortly later he send out caravels to discover the world. We found out we were not alone. There were 5 more continents, populated with very different people, but not like us. We found out some of them were very militaristic, and almost without exeption they lived in the stone ages. The strangest thing was that none of them seemed to have any religion or great architecture, and HUGE parts of land were still a wilderness. This seemed all the more strange as our own continent was covered with civilization from top to bottom. With the help of our great companies, we were even able to build large cities above the tundras, on top of the snow. The age of colonization had started. We took every land that was left and the Netherlands in now a global empire, larger, stronger and more advanced than all other empires combined. It is hard to tell what the future will bring, but as our religions spread, tensions between the semi-barbarians of this world rise, and wars next to our borders seem inevitable.\n\nEDIT: Obviously, this was the most successful game I ever played. I turned up the difficulty after this one ;) .", "1049Ad. Denmark & England wage war against their peaceful neighbour Venice.\n\n1058Ad. Denmark is gone. England has lost its capital and been reduced to just Hastings. \n\nLong love the venetian empire", "Historians continue to debate what started the Great War. Babylon had long been a peaceful and forgiving nation, tolerating the settlement of Boston near its borders in as early as 2000 B.C. It would be until the Middle Ages that they would be tempted into conquest.\n\nAround the year 1200 A.D., Harald Bluetooth the Great sent emissaries to Babylon seeking an alliance. Tired of lukewarm negotiations with the other nations thus far, Lord Nebuchadnezzar II jumped at the opportunity to improve international relations and to undertake joint research agreements between the two nations.\n\nThe cunning Danish warlord had more than just trade and scientific discovery on his mind, however. He proposed a cunning plot to launch a sneak attack on the unsuspecting backward nation of Indonesia, which lay between Denmark and Babylon. For decades, the two nations marshalled their forces before announcing the attack. Unfortunately, it was an unqualified disaster.\n\nJust as Denmark prepared its attack, so did the Ottoman-American alliance, attacking them from the rear as their troops were in Indonesia. Denmark had fallen, leaving poor Babylon friendless and alone. Although the Indonesians sustained heavy losses, they managed to hold back the invading Babylonians, who eventually accepted a surrender, demanding that the Indonesians pay them tribute of gold and spices.\n\nBabylon chose to renounce its warmongering ways and instead focus on the sciences, for they were on the very cusp of the Industrial Revolution! Babylon became the birthplace of democracy, an ideology that was soon adopted by their close trading partners in Byzantium far across the sea. The rest of the world, however, had no interest in freedom, and were instead swayed by the foolish notion that order was to be valued above all else.\n\nIt was not long before Babylon and Byzantium stood as the only bastion of the free world as their neighbours succumbed to evil. Babylon turned its eyes back to Indonesia, seeing their inferior weapons and hoping to rescue them from tyranny, Babylon began to rebuild its army.\n\nThe liberation of Indonesia was not to be, for Babylon's long-time allies, the Americans, joined forces with the Dutch and betrayed their former Babylonian allies. The liberation troops quickly rushed to fend off the invaders. while research began on a top secret project.\n\nEverything changed when a great scientist named René Descartes was born in the early 1800s. Descartes changed the face of warfare forever with his invention of the battleship. This happened just in time, for the Indonesians and the Ottomans had also joined the war, cowardly trying to attack Babylon in her time of weakness. Byzantium offered what support they could, but it was not enough.\n\nWith the incredible industrial power of Babylon, though, it was not long until a fleet of battleships was ready to take the fight to the enemy. Firing from offshore, they managed to destroy most of the invaders, before following Admiral James Cook around the north coast to get to America's coastal cities. This counter-invasion was temporarily halted by Captain Kamehameha of Polynesia, who, although neutral in the fight, would not let the Babylonian armada through his polar naval outpost.\n\nAdmiral James Cook knew that the lives of innocent Babylonian citizens were on the line, so he launched an attack on the outpost and proceeded to conquer the entire northern coast of the continent. Meanwhile, in the south, the Byzantine fleet had arrived to attack Indonesia. In the next hundred years, the Byzantine-Babylonian coalition would manage to defeat the evil Americans, Indonesians, and Ottomans, liberating the poor nations of Prague and Denmark along the way.\n\nSeeing their invasion had failed, the Dutch and the Polynesians soon surrendered as well. With a massive battle-hardened fleet as well as the whole continent under his control, the Babylonian president had a difficult decision on his hands. His science adviser informed him that the recent construction of the Hubble Space Telescope had provided the necessary data to begin the construction of a vessel that could bring colonists to Alpha Centauri.\n\nDeath and destruction still hung in the air from the last war and it would take several decades to secure full military control of the planet. The decision was made.\n\nBabylon's legacy would not be that of death and conquest. No, their true legacy lay beyond earth...", "In fourteen hundred ninety-two\nHarun al-Rashjid sailed the ocean blue.\n\nHe had 3 ships and left from Mecca;\nHe sailed through sunshine, wind and rain.\n\nHe sailed by night; he sailed by day;\nHe used the stars to find his way.\n\nA compass also helped him know\nHow to find the way to go.\n\nSeven units were embarked;\nThose who settled and those who worked\n\nThen the workers went to sleep;\nAnd settlers watched the ocean deep.\n\nDay after day they looked for land;\nThey dreamed of gems and gold and clams.\n\n1500 their dream came true,\nYou never saw a happier crew!\n\n\"Iroquois! Iroquois!\" al-Rashid cried;\nHis heart was filled with joyful pride.\n\nand then he killed them all\nbecause he was playing for domination victory", "Settings: Carthage True Start Location, Prince, Huge Earth Map, Standard time\n\nPg. 1: The City on a Mountain\n\nIn the year 4000 BC, the **Nomads** of North Africa united as one, for the most part. They banded together just to survive the arid environment. But one day, the nomads came a cross a land of sprawling plains, endless coast, and mountains as tall as giants. They settled down and sent a party of warriors to properly scout the land. After seeing swathes of unclaimed land, the **Carthaginians**, who were from the city the nomads settled, **Carthage**, wanted to become more powerful. They eventually adopted a primitive **Republic**, where the people could elect their local leaders, so as to create a strong, stable and prosperous empire. With these new lands, the Carthaginians settled the new cities of Utique and Hippo Regius along the North African coastline. With a strong foundation, the Democratic Republic of Carthage we know today was to become a powerful, unstoppable force, like the world has never seen before.\n\nPg. 256: The Conquest of Gibraltar\n\nAfter the hardy nation of Carthage learned how to make a kind of ship known now as the **Galleass**, their immortal ruler, Queen* Dido, commissioned a force of these new ships to expand the republic into the Strait of Gibraltar. With the naval force she needed, Queen Dido sent out an official Declaration of War against the kingdom of Portugal, who had control of the strait and a small part of North Africa through their city Braga. The attack on Braga, and the Portugese capitol, Lisbon, was so fast, it is now known as **Dido's Storm**. After the conquest of the two cities, the Carthaginians made peace with Portugal, leaving them with one city, Porto, on eastern Iberia. To this day, they still control Porto, with another colony in Siberia, Coimbra. With two new cities in their clutches, the Republic was faced with new-found troubles, and opportunities\n\nPg. 322: The Quest for the New World\n\nBy 1000 AD, a new era had dawned: one of exploration and colonialism. With Carthaginian scientists learning how to study the sea and stars, a new ship, the **Caravel**, was developed. Dido sent out an order to upgrade the fleet of Quinqueremes into Caravels, to explore new lands. The first Caravel found two new native civilizations, the Iroquois and the Aztecs. Because Carthage was hated for its conquests throughout the Old World, Carthage turned the new world into her new trade partners for official trade goods. From late explorations, the Carthaginian navy came into contact with the Shoshone, Carthage's modern rival, and the Inca. With the discovery of new and unclaimed lands, the Carthaginian government financed their first colonial venture, and would settle the first city of New Carthage, Carthago Novum.\n\n^\\* ^^While ^^Queen ^^Dido ^^had ^^absolute ^^power, ^^the ^^people ^^voted ^^on ^^her ^^advisers, ^^one ^^of ^^whom ^^she ^^trusted ^^heavily, ^^and ^^the ^^other ^^four ^^she ^^disregarded ^^completely.", "Excerpt from a textbook:\n\nCasterly Rock was founded along the coast, on the banks of the Castamere river. It was surrounded on three sides by fertile plains for almost forty leagues, and ten leagues into the sea. For centuries, she didn't bother looking outward. All the beauty of the world could be found here, where pyramids rose from the waves, where that renowned bronze giant loomed over the Castamere, where the secrets of iron and steel and physics were unlocked. Casterly Rock was a center for culture and science, people flocked to the idea that life could be better and mean more than jusr survival. They were adding their work to the human condition. Technology made farms more prosperous, lumber mills more productive, the great manufactory of Lord Tywin produced thousands of iron works a year, vastly outpacing the blacksmiths of villages hence. One day strange men were seen far from the city. They were dark in complexion, wearing silk linens around their heads. The Riverlords of Songhai. They were the first civilization Casterly Rock had ever encountered, not just another village but cities, hundreds of them crawling towards us. We had always considered it a possibility, but this had confirmed it. A scouting force was raised and sent out, they brought back reports of Songhai cities building around us. Suddenly, Casterly Rock's borders were definite, not boundless. During this worrying time, we were introduced to the Arabians, and the Iroquois. Then we were told that was it, these were the competitors we would face from now until the end of time. We couldn't know better, but fortunately there were those among us who had the foresight to begin researching weaponry. Shortly afterwards, as the wonders of the world amassed in Casterly Rock, the Riverlords desired our culture and sought to assimilate us through force. Besieged on three sides by enemy catapults and archers, our engineers unveiled their first work: the trebuchet. This monstrosity was quickly replicated and put into marshall use, clearing enough space for long bowman and our own armies to retake the field. They Riverlords tried to surround us again, but could never defeat our long bowman on the open field again. No longer a center of just culture and science, we were now a nexus of human knowledge; science, war, and culture to temper our potential violence. Our exponential growth continued as geniuses of one kind or another were born in the Rock. Every inch of space was used at maximum efficiency. Modern technology was developed and out to use. The Riverlords turned their eyes to easier targets, a strategy that led to the first Great War. \n\nThe Great War was the only war ever fought between all three of our global neighbors. Atrocities were committed, but the Rock stayed isolated. We played our part, however. When the Riverlords were beaten past our borders and Suleiman asked us permission to cross, we turned a blind eye to their incursion. The Riverlords introduced us to war, they were inferior and no longer exist as a civilization. The Arabians became our new neighbors, occupying the old Songhai cities. The world was once again at peace, though the horror of genocide was fresh on our lips, little did we expect the Iroquois capable of repeating it. Not a century later, our Arabian friends to the South were under attack. No one in the world was as progressive as Casterly Rock, our technology was cutting edge amongst all under the heavens; our culture had taken root deeply across all the world, it was only a matter of time before we could convince the world to live in peace. This is why we refused to help the Arabians. We were tired of war, we would save them. We were too late. More than 90% of the people of the world were Iroquois, and now the Rock was left alone to stand against a threat far worse than the Riverlords ever posed. We came to know firsthand the monstrosities the Iroquois had brought to bear against their fellow men, and we were disgusted. And jealous. The one thing that Casterly Rock lacked in resources was uranium. Giant Death robots marched against the Rock, when our first two Great Generals were born. One founded the citadel not a league from our city, the other held the field surrounding it. From this position of strength, and with recent advances in rocketry, we were able to halt the Iroquois march in it's tracks. The power of 5 billion people was stopped by the ingenuity and righteousness of a mere 60 million. We halted their advance, now we had to strike out for the first time in history with none to support us. Our coffers were rich, and special strike teams supported by a newly christened navy carried out the attacks. We deprived our enemy of his uranium sources by razing their cities, and left guerrillas behind to harass their recolonization efforts. Our defensive units gained invaluable experience, masters of war they became. Our cause tugged at be hearts of the world. Why does this one city resist us, who conquered the world? Why do we fight them so? But the war raged on. Amongst all this strife, the peace in Casterly Rock persisted. Our economy flourished, and it became apparent as the Iroquois grew more communist that our freedom was superior in every way. \n\nWe existed this way for a century before the Iroquois people could not stand any more loss. After millions of sons died, compared to a few thousand of ours, the people revolted. They wanted to live like us, or not at all. All of the sudden, our people were the same. We had won.\n\nTL;DR: I only owned one city that focused on culture and science, and obviously had to take up arms against the other three civs. At the end of the game only the Iroquois were left, so I coordinated the ransack of their cities next to uranium so they couldn't make nukes until after I won via culture. I always razed their cities, I never occupied them either directly or via puppet. I did have a safety net, a settler hidden on a little dot of an island chain with two oil tiles and fish right there, protected by a nuclear submarine with cruise missiles. Unfortunately, the world didn't become mine after winning culturally, but I still haven't lost Casterly Rock. Most of the tiles now are either manufactories or fields, I'm beginning to convert them to forests and lumbermills to control population in such a way that the Rock will remain sustainable in terms of population. For only occupying about 4% of the world, we were the happiest, richest, most cultured country in the world.", "Since the early times, in the earliest years, even back to 1200BC, the great nation of America had pledged to keep their Capital only to one, alone in the continent of north America they were left unmolested for some thousands of years. Meanwhile in the mainland of Africa, Asia and Europe, two great nations grew. One grew into the might that was the great Egyptian empire, growing out of central Africa and expanding into the middle east. The other nation of Spain, the warmongering menace to the world, aggressively grew out of eastern Asia. They met the Chinese in India, and after relations soured brutally destroyed them in a quick war.\n\nThe rapid expansion of the Egyptians caused them to meet at the east of the middle east at 1500 AD. Tensions were high between the two, but an unknown force arrived at the Indian sea, just before war seemed to break out. A trireme arrived on the shores of the conquered India. The great nation of America had arrived at the shores. After a quick meeting between leaders the men on the ship were allowed onto shore. Musket men surrounded the foreign people but it was clear they were of peaceful nature.\n\nThe men walked up, clearly unarmed. They waved their arms in the air screaming \"Oh please do not harm us! Our ships have not touched land for some 1000 years! We only wish sanctuary and a place to establish our religion, JackToTheTopism!\" \n\nAlthough the Spanish ruler gave multiple warnings to America to not have their missionaries of such religion take home at their cities America continued anyways. It was at this moment however America entered a revolution. With the assassination of the previous leader, Jack, Ethan took over and revolutionized the nation. It had severely fallen behind everything as their single city had been unable to keep up with the expansive might of the other nations. The great leader, Ethan expanded all across America, to the northern tip of south America. The nation was in turmoil at the revolution and Ethan turned the nation into a militaristic empire as he built up the armed forces.\n\nThe tensions eventually broke out into all out war between the Egyptians and Spanish in the middle east. Endless waves of riflemen and cannons ran at each other as both nations expended all of their efforts to the annihilation of the only other relevant nation in the world. The nation of Egypt sent an emissary with a proposal. He wanted America to open up a second front on the war. To attack from the north by crossing across a thin area of water that could be sailed across. Hopelessly out classed by the powerful Spanish military the dictator Ethan amassed untold numbers of riflemen to run against the machines guns and infantry of the Spanish. They were moved to their northern border and war was declared. With no sense for the loss of life unit after unit was sent towards the open capital of the Spanish. It was to no avail. Not a single dent was seen on the gleaning capital of the Spanish, as they dedicated naught but two regiments of infantry and three of artillery to fend of the millions of American soldiers.\n\nThe efforts of the Americans may as well have never happened, as the Spanish managed to push towards the Egyptians. The Egyptian ruler, greatly angered due to his orders being intercepted by some unknown spy system he claimed to be called \"host lag.\"\n\nMany years passed as the world raged on in war. It seemed just as the Americans could make his soldiers on par with the enemies the Spanish would get just ahead as well. Angered at his losses he called for a truce that the Spanish gladly accepted. This peace did not last long however, as exactly 20 years later the northern front reopened and the mass murder of millions of American soldiers continued at the gates of the Spanish capital. \n\nWith the final united nations meeting to decide the world leader coming up it seemed assured that the Spanish would win, if he did not conquer all of the world first. The Egyptians only having the southern half of africa remaining, every single city state being on the side of the Spanish, and America being now in the tens of millions of casualties, all hope seemed lost. This was confirmed as the first bomb fell. The nukes hit the Egyptians hard, annihilating their cities to rubble.\n\nA final deal was opened between the Egyptians and Americans however, unbeknownst to the Spanish. All the money in the Egyptian's coffers would be directly transferred to the Americans, and the americans would purpose peace one last time. The Spanish accepted the Americans peace proposal one last time. The Spanish fought hard to extinguish the Egyptians for good, and sent his own nuclear submarines to the Americans, and only one turn remained until the leader would be decided. \n\nIn what was to be known as \"The Great City-State Donation Program\" the americans donated a grand total of 93,000 gold to every city state, making every single one of them his ally. The americans, naught but one turn after the Treaty of Madrid, the Americans immediately declared war on the Spanish, preventing any trade between the City states and the great nation. The turn was over. The votes counted. And with the unconquered Egypt standing strong, every single city state in the game, and America's votes together, Ethan, herald of JackToTheTopism, considered by his people a genocidal maniac, with nukes a year away from being aimed down his throat,was named Supreme Ruler of the World", " And on that fateful morning, the world stood still, as to watch what the American leader would do next. \n \n Hundreds and hundreds of peaceful years had gone by before this moment. In the beginning, there was Washington, DC, settled at the edge of an ocean as wide and open as the arms of the locals that welcomed them. \n These locals were known as the Dutch. Their leader, William, accepted Washington into his expansive lush, mountainous land. Through the years, both empires founded new cities in their respective boundaries and flourished together. But other than the random group of barbarians, the two leaders had wondered if they were alone in the world. \n That is, until the first ocean-crossing ship was built in the city of Boston. It was a momentous occasion. America was in the midst of a golden age, with new scientific discoveries made every few years. But the discovery of another civilization had been in the minds of the American and Dutch empires for years. Finding life across the ocean would change their world. \n\nAnd it did. \n\n American scouts first found the Germans. Their people shared stories of great peace and terrible wars inflicted between their empire and the once war-hungry Aztecs. \n The scouts continued westward through a massive, empty desert until an enormous wall stopped them in their tracks. Foot soldiers on the wall would not let Washington's scouts pass through the territory of Rome, so the group followed the wall south into a mountainous region owned by France.\n New civilizations brought great joy to both Washington and William. Soon, trade routes were established and each civilization thrived. New cultures and religions were adopted. Technology was ever-increasing. President Washington particularly loved the arts and culture. America was booming with great writers, musicians and artists. \n Peace came at an end when Rome declared war with Germany. The mighty empires fought for years until Rome's advanced armies brought Germany to its knees. The Roman Empire's boundaries had become massive. \n Soon after, America was surprised to see scouts of Greece and England roaming around its borders. With enough land to spare, America welcomed English settlers to the continent, building a city near New York. William and the Dutch were not so eager to have new neighbors, but America and England shared their cultures and arts for the world. Archaeology had also just been discovered, and both leaders were eager to dig for treasures beyond their wildest imaginations.\n President Washington loved meeting new civilizations. He took pride in learning more and more about different cultures and histories. Washington even went out of his way to help the world leaders throughout the years, except for going to war. Peace was of the upmost importance, and every civilization took notice.\n Years and several border disputed between the English and Dutch later, the longtime \"ally\" of America came to Washington looking for help. William proposed joining him in going to war with Elizabeth, enraging the American leader. Washington sought peace, and war so close to his borders would raise concern with the American citizens. \n William was outraged. How could his brother side with an civilization he just met? William even went as far as telling the world about Washington's treachery. \n\nThis was not over. \n\n Washington needed to warn Elizabeth about a possible attack. But any preparation would not be enough for what came next...\n The time came for William to make a move. America watch as his army gathered around the lone English city. What Washington hadn't noticed was an armada of ships coming from the west. Roman ships.\n William was the first to fire. A cannon-shot disposed one of Elizabeth's archers. Then came another cannon-shot, almost wiping out a nearby mounted unit. England pushed a few soldiers forward to halt William's advancement. \n It was then that the Roman fleet started to fire at England. Three ships bombed the defenseless city, and fires started all throughout. Smoke billowed high enough to be seen by citizens of New York. \n It was a swift and deadly strike. The city was sieged and razed by Rome in a matter of days.\n William had allied with the largest nation in the world and brought war to American soil. Washington was furious to find the city was nothing but ashes. All of the art he had traded with Elizabeth was gone. \n Washington's other allies, Greece and what was left of Germany, had already been in talks about warring with Rome to take back what was rightfully theirs. Their requests for America to join them in the fight had always been denied, until now.\n Washington gathered his troops and halted production of his cities in order to churn out more tools of war. He was about to create an army large enough to take out William and Caesar by himself. He put all efforts in culture and science into production. The longer he waited, the closer his enemies got to England's capital. \n\nFinally, it was time.\n\n Washington's first fleet sailed for Rome, while his second fleet sailed to England's aid. His army made its way to the Dutch capital, with enough firepower to take three cities. \n The president acknowledged William's questioning of troops gathering around his borders with a \"nothing to worry about\" attitude, giving just enough time for his first fleet to position itself outside of a Roman city. \n The rest of the world leaders knew by sunrise, America was about to start the largest war in history. And Washington couldn't help but feel excited. A man of peace became a monster of revenge. \n \nAnd on that fateful morning, the world stood still, as to watch what the American leader would do next. \n Every American soldier stood on edge, waiting on the first command.\n \nBut President Washington did nothing.\n\nHe stood there, an old man, fists clenched in anger at what the world had done to him. Had changed him into. But he was determined with a sense of rage that no man should feel. \n\nYet President Washington still did nothing. \n\nGeorge realized he couldn't move. His body rushed with a sense of hope and desperation. But no matter what he tried, nothing worked. The world still watched, waiting for something. \n\nAnd darkness came. \n\n \n\n Just hours prior, an archaeologist made an enormous, world-changing discovery. A lost artifact from an unknown world had been found. \n And while he carefully held it in his hands, he pondered \"Would President Washington want this dig site converted into a historical site, or would he want this artifact moved to one of his esteemed museums?\"\n\n\n\n\nEdit: For anyone fortunate enough to not discover this \"glitch\" - In the Gods and Kings DLC, some games can freeze after performing an archaelogical dig. Reloading the game will not help whatsoever...\n\n ", "Like most Empires, the German Empire started small. In the year 4000 BC the city of Berlin was founded in a small valley, nestled beneath the great Bernese mountains to the north. Berlin quickly grew and expanded, and the great Otto von Bismarck deemed it necessary to grow and expand his ever growing civilization. Soon, the cities of Munich and Hamburg were settled in the great plains to the south and southeast. \nGermans rejoiced as their Empire continued to grow and all was calm. \n\n\nBut then Germany met Korea.\n\n\nBismarck was weary of the Korean's, with their strange, nearly opposite Pagan beliefs. However, trade between the two Empires flourished for several decades. Korea worringly began to expand ever closer to Germany's borders, despite many requests not to from Bismarck. Bismarck, in his wisdom, predicted future conflict, began to build his military to protect his Empire from Korean Imperialism. When Korea founded its 10th city, the line in the sand had been crossed, and Bismarck declared war. The Korean's may have had a large Empire, but it was not strong in might, soon 1,2, then 3 cities fell to the German onslaught, either being razed to the ground or acquired by the German Empire. Within years, Seoul fell to the Germans, and Korea moved its Capital south to the city of Haeju, and brokered for peace with Germany, surrendering its remaining cities.\n\nShortly after this though, two new civilizations, the Romans and the Dutch reared their heads. The Dutch offered friendship, but Rome simply wanted Germany out of its way in order to expand. After a small amount of time, both the Dutch and the Germans allied against the Roman menace and within a small expanse of time Rome was captured by the Germans and the Dutch had several new former Roman cities. By this time, the Germans had also expanded westward, towards the sea that divided the world in half.\n\nThings stayed quiet and peaceful between the Dutch and Germans for hundreds of years. This quiet was to be broken though when Germany met many civilizations in a small period of time. The Russians, Arabians, Persians, and Iriquois revealed themselves, with the Iriquois being extremely hostile towards the Germans. They began to denounce Germany, refused trade agreements, and denied open borders. Soon, Germany had had enough of this and sneakily launched a force across the sea towards the new continent that housed the Iriquois. The German Army caught the Iriquois by suprise at the Battle of Alamanca Gap. Soon, Alamanca was taken by the Germans and a new foothold was gained in the new continent. Expended by this effort though, Germany agreed to peace with the Iriquois, only to break the peace within a few decades, swiftly taking the Iriquois capital. City after city fell to the Germans, and the Iriquois later went into hiding, their one remaining city hidden in the far west of the world. \n\n\nThings did not stay peaceful after this though, Germany still had a large Army on its home continent that grew restless, and Germany began to get greedy, wanting the iron and gold rich territories of the Dutch for itself. After a brief period of training yet more troops, Germany launched a suprise attack on the Dutch, swiftly defeating the larger but technologically inferior Dutch army and claiming its Capital. Soon, Germany controlled the whole Eastern side of the world for itself. \n\nThe year is now 1760 AD. Germany seeks to dominate the Western world now, setting its sights on the weak Persian Empire while at the same time hoping to find and finish off its old nemesis, the Iriquois....", "To those children, born there aboard the ship, the world began in the third Auxiliary Bay and ended at the tip of the sensor array, and their heaven, purgatory, and hell lay all bunched up in between.\n\nNeither I nor did my predecessors ever saw fit to tell them any different. It is good, we all knew, to focus on the concrete world, and so we taught them physics, chemistry, and biology, not the names of dead queens or poets or diplomats.\n\nBy then, a distance so vast that it was beyond comprehension - even for our children’s bright minds - separated the ship from the world, and a distance just as great separated our memories from our parents’ problems.\n\nThere were two children, Aoi and Yua, running down the hall, their voices echoing. I heard them as I rested from the day’s shift in the laboratory.\n\n“Boom!” said Aoi. “Boom! I’m Egypt! I’m warring you!”\n\nYua made a noise like a jet engine as she ran away. “I’m Japan! I’m flying away. You can’t get me!” Aoi squealed as she ran down the hall after Yua, and the sounds of the two faded away.\n\nYua’s grandmother loved to tell the children stories. We discouraged her from doing so. It is good, we all said, to focus on the concrete world. Yua’s grandmother sneered, but she talked with the children anyway and they were still happy, and so we never saw fit to tell them any different.\n", "The Japanese Empire came from humble roots, sprouting from Scandinavia, and eventually expanded to encompass all of Europe. Soon after, they met another, less powerful empire called \"Germany\". Japan sensed great potential in them and formed an alliance.\n\nSeveral centuries passed, and Japan met many others: Siam, Arabia, Iroquois, and China. They were pretty chill. Japan was sitting at the top of the food chain for a while. It was the richest, most powerful, resource-packed empire in the world; but then Japan discovered China was building up an army.\n\nJapan’s leaders didn't pay too much mind to the growing power to the south, as they were busy educating the masses and expanding their culture. Over the next few centuries, many great writers were born: H.G. Wells, Herman Melville, and Voltaire to name a few. The people loved reading their works, especially while listening to the empire's musical prodigy: Duke Ellington. Times were good.\n\nThen the news came. War. Not against Japan, thankfully; but between China and Arabia. It seems that the two couldn't share the African continent peacefully. Japan stayed out of it, being content working on the construction of Machu Picchu and the Pyramids in peaceful solitude. The war dragged on and on, and many empires allied with Arabia, but none with China. Which is understandable, as Wu Zetian was known to give other civilizations’ leaders the shaft quite often.\n\nHaving no interest in war, Japan planned an expedition to discover new lands. After many decades, its scouts happened upon the frosty shores of Alaska, and met a new ally: Portugal. The scouts brought back stories of the new lands, along with a horse.\n\nSoon, the people started getting restless. Having grown less content with being the most educated, cultured, and wealthy people in the world, they sought a higher purpose. They sought religion. And so, in the year 1080 AD, Ninjaism was established. The people rejoiced, worshiping their lord and savior, Kakashi, and reading his Holy Romance Scripture. Many prophets were born and spread the word throughout the world, and all were happy.\n\nAfter a while, Japan received word of the United Nations’ formation, and sent delegates to speak for them. Germany, after being refused a gift of 1600 gold from Japanese’s wealth of 1800, decided to propose an embargo against the nation. Japan vote against the proposal.\n\nGermany’s leader, Bismarck, was quoted saying, \"I know that your votes played a part in my proposal not going through. I will remember this.\"\n\nGermany denounced Japan, whose leaders told him he'd pay for this in time. Japan began construction on the world’s first atomic weapon.\n\nSiam, Arabia, and the Iroquois joined together and denounced Germany. The once beloved empire lost those closest to them. India and Portugal denounced Siam, Germany denounced China, Siam and Maya denounced Arabia. The world was falling apart. Japan’s leadership decided to build a spaceship and leave it all behind. War was breaking out all across the world. They fought each other on horseback with pointed sticks. A Japanese carrier made its way to Germany's borders. In the midst of war, Gandhi requested that Japan trade him some silk for a horse.\n\n Germany soon discovered Japan’s efforts towards constructing the world's first WMD and proposed a nuclear disarmament to the UN. The proposal passed. Probably because the other civilizations were centuries away from developing nuclear weaponry. Japan soon finished its space ship and left Earth behind, seeking to start a new empire in the stars.\n\t\n\nWhat will the future hold for the Japanese Empire? Discover this and more in the soon to be published: “Civilization: 6th Edition.” Available for purchase through any university bookstore for $250*.\n\n\t*Price liable to increase\n", "At the dawn of civilization, all cultures were separated onto individual islands. Most cultures quickly built two cities on their island and started to work toward finding a way off their island.\n\nIn 2500 BC, however, the Danes who had started quite weak, only building one tiny city, were the first to gain the knowledge of sea travel. The truth of where they got this knowledge has been lost to time. All we know today is that shortly after discovering the secrets of sea travel, the Danes, now calling themselves the Vikings built large, advanced sailing vessels that could cross oceans, and that were armed with explosive weaponry.\n\nUsing this sudden windfall of naval supremacy, the Vikings proceeded to go and conquer all of the known world.\n\nAfter uniting all peoples within their realm under one banner, the King of the the Vikings, Woden, proceeded to put his people's might to work on the sciences. They discovered everything they could about their land, and about the neighboring lands across the greatest ocean, that of the stars.\n\nEventually, the Vikings created their first star ship. It sailed out into the stars and brought peace to many of the neighboring realms, such the one they called Midgard.\n\nAfter the success of the first mission, the head pilot on the mission, the son of the king, demanded a more permanent solution to space travel be built. And thus, the Bifrost was created.\n\nAnd that is the history of Asgard.", "###Chapter 7: The Great War of 1931 - 1969\n\nThe year is 1931, Bismarck the Terrible of Germany, as the other nations leader called him, had just conquered Songhai and Persia, securing his position on the continent. Being the first to discover that the world was round, Bismarck had large groups of scouting parties. He ordered them to scout the other countries and find their capitols. However, word spread quickly of Bismarcks conquest through nearby nation states and their allies. The scouting parties were first intercepted by the Mongols. The Mongols captured and killed some of the scouts, Bismarck used this as a platform to wage war overseas. A new operation had begun, named \"Operation Dryout\". The largest navy in the world, Germanys, steamed towards the Mongolian coastlines. Once there, they unleashed several bombardments on their capitol, working parties, and other cities. This shelling lasted for quite some time until the mighty Panzer units arrived with infantry, Anti Tank weaponry, and artillery. These men trekked the harsh terrain, conquering a nation state which was allied with the Mongols and proceeding to the Mongolian border. Once there, the Panzers spearheaded an attack followed by the infantry and AT, supported by artillery bombardment. \n\nThe Mongols lasted for quite some time, discovering attack helicopters before Germany, discover rocket artillery before Germany, but this proved no match for the sheer manpower and tactical skill of the German forces. By 1934 the Mongols had been wiped out. The nation state of Brussels was freed from Mongol hands and became allied with Germany. Now stationing the troops which fought in the Mongol-German War along the border with Japan, a lone infantry unit crossed the border by accident. This sparked the Two Year War which proceeded until the Japanese leader decided to ask for peace. Peace was accepted and everyone got along, except for the nation states. Brussels wished for the nation state of Hanoi to be destroyed. Because Brussels was an important strategic ally, Germany complied and conquered Hanoi. Expanding its borders to an island chain in the middle of an ocean. Then, Quebec wanted Venice destroyed. Venice was taken and in 1938, Quebec was conquered. The German countryside expanded and expanded, cities dotting the landscape every couple miles. Settlers being trained every two to three years and being sent overseas to begin new cities! \n\nThis sparked a golden ago, although in a time of war the German people were protected by their military and leaders grand tactical mind. The great general Patton was born and sent to the Mongol-Indian border to construct a citadel. The leader had heard of the supposedly peaceful Ghandi and his acts of terror. Now, only three major powers existed. Germany, Japan, and India. Japan, somewhat intimidated after the huge losses taken during the Two Year War and how close the Germans got to the capitol, agreed to an alliance and denouncing India. India denounced the Germans and Japanese after this and drove up their military spending, as recorded by scouts inside Indian territory. Several years passed and more nation states disappeared under the German flag. In 1940 the German and Japanese went to war against India. The Indians fought hard and well, forcing Japan to declare peace four years into the war. Indian and Germans fought until 1954. Fighting ended briefly at a stalemate, with no real peace declared, until 1960. The Japanese had gone to war again and lost their country to the Indians. Germany now fought on Japanese and Indian soil. The German navy surrounded India and begun bombardment. German submarines sank any Indian ships attempting to get out. The Indians were pushed back to the former Japanese border and then into their home country. Then was when the fighting got fiercer. Both sides now had atomic weapons and only the Germans were afraid to use it, for fear of backlash from unhappy civilians. India dropped a nuclear bomb on a captured Mongolian city and destroyed it. A modern tank unit had been stationed there and was destroyed, along with the 12,000 citizens of the city.\n\nIn 1965 the Germans and Indians had been going back and forth. It either ended within that decade, or it would never end and both countries would be drained of resources. The Germans launched a major offensive into the remaining Indian land. Armor units were launched from the nearest citadel along with any Artillery pieces in the area which were not in contact with the enemy. All units which could engage the enemy were obliged to. Artillery rained on enemy infantry and then their own cities. Now closing in on the Indian capitol, they rested. Awaiting to heal, the Indians launched a counter-offensive which took several infantry units but was quickly put down. The nearby battleship fleet was sent into the bay area near the Indian capitol to begin shelling. This continued until their defenses were low enough that the Infantry and Armor could attack without severe losses.\n\nFour years after 1965, when the offensive was launched the German people rejoiced in a golden era. After the capture of the Indian territory, many soldiers were sent back to their homes on leave. Others, were sent to allied nation states to negotiate.\n\n###THIS IS THE END OF CHAPTER 7. \n\n###NEXT CHAPTER, CHAPTER 8: THE AMERICAN BATTLES FOR VICTORY", "Year 1550 A.D.\nTo my most esteemed enemy Attila the Hun,\n\nYou have finally done it, it is finished. My greatest fortress conquered,\nmy people enslaved, all the wealth of Japan now lies with you. You were like a force of nature relentless, striking without warning. How you greeted us as friends, allies, with a blade behind your back. I should have known, should have prepared for war. It still boils me to the bone how you treacherously slithered up, taking the advantage slowly. \"Accidently\" taking major materials, bribing the city states who we once called allies, then in the end the build up of troops on our borders. We trusted you, thought of you as a man of his word. But it seems honor meant nothing to you. We were being led astray to ruin all along...\n\nIs what you would like to think. Do you take us for fools? We knew of your intend, of your treacherous intentions centuires ago. \nHowever it was too late to prepare for war, too far behind to actually win against your armies. Therefore we accecpted our inevitable demise...\n\nYou however will accompany us. To your East lies Rome and its legions ready to strike as your warriors siege our remaining cities. To your North lies Napoleon with his fleet eyeing the riches of your coasts. Yes that's right we offered ourselves on a silver platter to them, to be a worthy sacrifice, all this for your destruction.\n\nNow our remaining forces, half-starved, depleted, will drag your finest warriors down with them with the strength of hundreds. We will die happy knowing every death will be repaid in a river of blood. Run along now if you can, we will follow you to the ends of the world. For unlike you, we have nothing more to lose. \n\nA village no more, a country no more, I am the last of my line. \n\nBlood for blood.", "This is the tale of the rise and fall of the mighty Moroccan Empire.\n\nmany years ago, along the fertile banks of a river flowing mightily through a great desert, the fledgling city of Marrakech was first founded.\n\nthe people of this city were brave and adventurous, sending scouting parties traversing the rolling dunes and passing by the crisp, refreshing oasis that dotted the featureless expanse of desert they called home. they met strange and exotic peoples, from the Iroquois residing in the harsh tundra to the north, lorded over by the strong and proud \"Bobsfaggot\", and the people of Ethiopia, led by the wise and powerful \"MAsterchef117\" occupying the hilly plains to the south.\n\nthis city was particularly blessed. they went relatively unmolested by the barbarian hordes that squatted in camps filled with entrapped workers, and were left to grow and develop with only small periods of conflict. not only did the bounties of the grand river of Marrakech provide ample sustenance for Morocco's rapidly growing population, but also brought forth sugarcane, and to the northern expanse laid copper and gems. these luxuries provided great happiness and rejoicing to the people of Morocco, and allowed \nthe industrious Moroccan people to focus production on the Great Library, giving them a wealth of knowledge to gain a strong lead in research. the time honored message \"suck it you noobs, fuck yeah\" was sent immediately to all the known leaders of the world.\n\nterse diplomatic responses came in the form of: \n\n\"this game is so broken\"\n\n\"my starting position sucks ass\"\n\n\"get a life you fag\"\n\nand similar statements. \n\nbut the people of Morocco were not deterred, and did not squander their progress.\nswiftly they focused their research on the acquisition of science and gold, and worked on expanding their empire. with the central position of Marrakech and the newly formed cities of Rabat farther downriver and Fes along the pearl-engorged coast located to the far east, the Moroccans were in a prime position to engage in trade with civilizations located all around. once the caravans flowed to and from Marrakech in droves, and as the rest of the world struggled along in the wake of Morocco's swift technological innovation, the Moroccan people grew reclusive.\n\nopen border deals were systematically denied, and offers for joint research were met with scorn. \n\nscout parties and boats, sent out long ago in a quest for knowledge and experience, were disbanded. Morocco grew arrogant in their advanced position in the world, and thought themselves untouchable, responding to threats and statements of discontent with tactful diplomatic decrees such as \n\n\"thats what i said to your mother last night\", \n\n\"you're just salty im winning\", and \n\n\"try it kid ill wreck you\".\n\nthis was not the case.\n\nthe declarations of war came like a flash, accompanied by the exclamation \"surprise bitch\", and seemingly overnight three mighty armies poured into the long untouched borders of Morocco's desert.\n\n the Iroquois to the north, the Ethiopians in the south, and the lesser kingdom of Russia, led by the humble queen \"Mrshokia\", in the rough mountainous regions to the west.\n\n\"what the hell is this teaming shit?\" thought the wise sultan of Morocco as he looked upon the amassed horde of adversaries.\n\nthe assailing armies outnumbered the moderate military force of the Moroccans, but the Moroccans were not so easily conquered. \n\nWalls and castles had long since been erected, and the fierce Berber Calvary of the Moroccans were at their strongest in both desert territory and their native land. \n\nand so the war was waged. initially, the war looked bleak for Morocco. after a tough fight, Rabat was lost, the proud northern expanse which held many long cherished resources and luxuries was set ablaze, and the people of Fes were starving.\n\nbut pouring all the production and wealth Morocco could into military might, it rebounded. first the meager forces of Russia were repelled, as they foolishly attempted to take Marrakech head on without aid from their allies.\n\nthe defeated cry that came from Russia's monarch, \"fuck this im gonna go play CS:GO\", echos through the annals of history even today.\n\nnext came the Iroquois, who were more numerous and advanced. the fighting was hard, and they bombarded the battered walls of Marrakech considerably, but the city stood, and after a swift reacquisition of the northern territory drove the Iroquois out of the desert, a peace treaty was brokered, capped with the statement \"this is so stupid i had like a million guys those Calvary are so OP\".\n\nthe vile Ethiopians had set the city of Rabat ablaze. the armies of Morocco, bloodied and on the other side of the desert, raced to save the city.\n\nbut all was in vain. \n\nRabat was burned to the ground, despite the hard pressing of the Moroccan military against the Ethiopians.\n\ntired of conflict and desperate to reverse the downward spiral they now found themselves in, Morocco made piece with Ethiopia, finally ending the great Desert Invasion.\n\nwhat was left of Morocco was pitiful.\n\nhalf the territory still ablaze, the other taken completely away, and the remaining cities battered and starving. \n\ntrade was decimated and poverty set in quickly. the pillars of Moroccan culture and science declined, and Morocco's position as the lead world power was eventually usurped by an upstart nation to the far northwest, China.\n\nthe rebuilding was arduous and long, and never fully restored Morocco to its former glory.\n\nindeed, when news of China's completion of their spaceship on a course set for Alpha centari reached Morocco, just as they had planned to do, the people of Morocco fell down and wept.\n\nso, in the never ending race for survival and the cutthroat game we call civilization, the once proud and mighty Moroccan Empire lost,\n\nand left the world, not with a bang, but a whimper.", "The once-proud Greek empire had invented democracy, and the written language, constructed the pyramids, and achieved the ability to sail on the ocean, despite being a land-locked empire. \n\nIn 1100 A.D. Alexander found his cities completely surrounded by troops armed with rifles, a technology which the world had never seen before. The soldiers which surrounded all of the cities belonging to Alexander, who was himself already over 1500 years old belonged to a nation that had seemingly no understanding of the written word or philosophy. Modern day historians have contemplated that perhaps it was the learned nature of the Greek civilization that had enraged it's long-time ally into building up a massive force around each of the Greek cities.\n\nGhandi, on the other hand, had made outrageous demands of Alexander, at first in exchange for friendship, and as time went on, under threats of violence. Alexander seemed completely unaware of the impending warfare despite the huge military buildup close to each of his cities.\n\nExactly ten years after their peace treaty ended Ghandi launched a sneak attack against his long time ally. All of the Greek cities fell on the same day, with the exception of Sparta, which existed for 100 more years and became the new Capitol of Greece, it's incredibly remote location had ensured that Ghandi didn't know of it's existence until all of the other Greek cities had fallen. Sparta existed as a tiny nation-state which had insufficient land to grow, so that it's population languished in inactivity and starved until it was eventually taken by a group of barbarian warriors which had inexplicably sailed there in a tiny, crudely constructed boat which had sailed solely through shallow coastal waters. The irony was that Sparta could have trained a single unit of pikemen given another 30 years.\n\nGhandi, meanwhile, had conquered the bulk of the Greek empire in search of Uranium, despite having no concept of what it was or what it was for. Ghandi went on to conquer the rest of the world, with the exception of one city owned by Genghis Khan. That single city was allowed to exist, and indeed thrive for almost another thousand years, seemingly without explanation. Any settlers sent from the city were promptly captured, and the peaceful Mongolian empire languished in the peace offered, bafflingly at no cost, by the incredibly bloodthirsty Ghandi.\n\nIn 1990 the motives of our glorious and beloved God-king Ghandi became apparent as nuclear missile after nuclear missile rained down upon the lone Mongolian city until it was reduced to it's foundations. The city was conquered and razed, lost to history. Our dear leader, now over 3,000 years old, has conquered the world. He weeps now, for he has nothing left to drop nuclear missiles on.\n\nEdit: whoever gave me gold, I thank you kindly. I honestly never expected that to happen. Ever.", "Chapter 1: The Founding of The Land Between the Rivers and the formation of the Arabian Empire\n\nArabia began long ago with the founding of Mecca in the Land Between the Rivers. Brave explorers ventured out into the harsh world. In between the rivers there was only desert. On one side, the great Meccan Mountains, and on the other the Iroquois Plains. But there was gold, a lot of gold.\n\nIn the south, where the two rivers met the Great Bay of Medina, a second city was founded, one that would one day become the greatest port in the world.\n\nThe Brazilians were encountered in the vast, jingled peninsula on the western side of the Meccan Mountains. Their lands were lush with fruits and black dirt. To the east, the Iroquois ruled the plains with an iron fist.\n\nNearby, Capetown competed with the young city of Medina for wealth and trade. But, the leaders of Arabia were wise, and ordered that all building projects be put on hold so that the Great Wonders could be built. Their rationale was: \"well, sure, we don't really want to win a cultural victory, but if *we* build the Parthenon, then no one else can.\"\n\nIn time, the Land Between the Two Rivers grew and prospered.\n\nThen, the Iroquois invaded from the plains. They came with spears and bows. They came with battering rams and horses. The Arabians were not prepared.\n\nDamascus burned. \n\nThe Arabians rallied, realizing that the Middle Ages (324 BC) were a little late to be building their first armies, but seeing as the Universe had only been set to Prince difficulty, they had not feared an invasion. They paid dearly for that mistake.\n\nAfter a viscous battle at Medina, where the great rivers flowed into the sea, the Iroquois advance finally came to a halt. The Arabians quickly adopted Patronage to celebrate. The smaller nations of the world would accept Arabian trade and the Arabs would get from them the things that their harsh land would not offer.\n\nThe Arabians retook Damascus, and the city burned again. \n\nThe Iroquois retreated to the plains, chased by the Arabians, who did not have the strength remaining to take Grand River. A peace was brokered, with a stalemate being the key outcome. Arabia returned to peace.\n\nUntil the Brazilians came down from the Meccan Mountain passes and surrounded the holy capital with their unexpected invasion. \n\nBrave warriors died in their hundreds and thousands as Mecca broke wave after wave of Brazilian pikemen. The leaders of Arabia, in their infinite wisdom, questioned whether they should halt production of Machu Picchu and build more troops. Their wise decision was proclaimed to the whole nation. \n\n“Meh, it’ll be fine.”\n\nAnd so it was.\n\nThe Brazilians were pushed back across the mountains and peace was achieved. A golden age dawned for the Land Between the Rivers. Gold flowed to other nations in return for unimagined luxuries, spices and silks. Capetown allied itself with Arabia, recognizing the superiority of the Port of Medina, which now sported the Colossus of Rhodes at the mouth of one river and the Great Lighthouse at the mouth of the other; an achievement that was widely regarded by the leaders of Arabia as “looking totally badass”.\n\nFor the next few hundred years, Arabia became the battle ground of the great religions of Protestantism, founded by the Iroquois, and Buddhism founded by the distant Siamese. \n\nThe Persians fell to the Zulu in a distant land. Their leader surrendered the capital in shame. The Zulu then began their long and unsuccessful campaign against the Siamese.\n\nThe leaders of Arabia were far more concerned with the unmet nation that kept beating them in their quest to build completely unnecessary wonders. They vowed that they would turn whichever nation it was into “a nuclear waste”, a proclamation that few understood in 1100AD.\n\nThe thunder of cannons marked the invasion of Brazil by the Arabs. It was justified by a massive push in the Arabian government to “spice the game up a little”. In the end, the jungles burned and cities fell until the entire peninsula was added to the Land Between the Rivers. \n\nThe Arabian Empire was born. \n", "“And so,” Geldaramesh, history teacher and beer aficionado cleared his throat. “We come to an important chapter in the history of our world. The razing of Memphis. Turn to chapter seven, children.” \nGeldaramesh waited as the children turned the pages in their textbooks, paper rustling. The header of the chapter was resplendent with a full colour illustration of King Nebakanezer, standing heroic and strong-jawed over the smoking ruins of a city as a group of scantily clad women lamented at his feet. Hardly suitable material for children, thought Geldaramesh, but at least this edition didn’t have the picture of him standing on the dismembered bodies of Egyptian soldiers. \n“Ok,” said Geldaramesh. “Who here can tell me how Memphis was founded?” \nThe room was a sea of hands. Geldaramesh peered to the back, and pointed to a boy. “Bilit.” \n“The Egyptians were filthy lying dogs, sir.” \nSome of the boys cheered. \nGeldaramesh sighed. “That is true, yes, but I’m looking for a more precise answer than that.” \nBilit looked confused. “They wanted to take our beautiful babylonian women and steal our superior technology, sir?” \n“While that is very likely true, Bilit, it is sadly irrelevant,” Geldaramesh waved for the others to put their hands down. “As those of you who have read the book may already know, Memphis was established by Egypt as a staging post for their military. The Babylonian Empire at this point already extended to the East coast of the interpennine sea, having cleansed the area of barbarian tribes, but Egypt refused to acknowledge this.” \nGeldaramesh turned to the blackboard, and began to sketch a map in chalk, marking Babylonian territory in blue and the Egyptian interlopers in yellow. \n“In 1582, Egypt sent over their first group of settlers with the intent of establishing a city on the coast. Thankfully, our army captured them, and they were subject to execution. Egypt claimed that these interlopers were acting independently, and sued for peace. However, in the confusion following the execution, the Egyptians established a second settlement on the coast. Memphis.\n\nRelations with Memphis were fraught from the beginning, as its only passage to the mainland was a narrow mountain pass, occupied by the city of Dur-Kurigalzu, which refused its inhabitants passage or trade, and scouts had spotted military units in the pass and in the sea along the south coast. Nebakanezer grew suspicious of the lying Egyptian dogs, and set the generation’s greatest minds into building a weapon that could rid us of this menace once and for all.”\n\nGeldaramesh looked out at the class. “And what was this weapon children?”\n\nThey replied as one. “Gunpowder!”\n", "The earliest known city was founded on the coast, though it appears that the original settlers actually travelled there from one or two hexes away.\n\nPerhaps they were drawn by the sugar which grows there, or the river. Most likely, both.\n\nThey named their city \"Carthage\". From this early time, we know very little. The city grew and there were some minor skirmishes with unknown people; probably roaming tribes. The remains of some of their camps have been found, and the odd trinket. But nothing more is known of these people or the battles which they fought, other than they were exterminated ruthlessly by Carthage.\n\nWe know that the first Carthaginians arrived in the court of Attilla the Hun shortly after the founding of Carthage, and that Shaka sent representatives to Carthage not long afterwards. \n\nWe can see slightly later evidence of Shaka's warriors descending from one direction, and Attilla's from another. \n\nThere is evidence of a few large battles around Carthage at this time. \n\nAnd that's it. That's all there is. We shall probably never know what happened; but legend has it that the inhabitants of Carthage simply vanished into thin air: taken by the ancient god \"Ragequit\".", "Page 912, A letter from Catherine the Great to Julius Caesar, circa 1892.\n\nWe were friends once, Julius, weren't we? It was so long ago when my scouts first left Moscow, their faces shrouded against the humid jungle air. They came upon your warriors whose simple spiked clubs had unveiled gold, horses, the secrets of pottery and alphabets. Though hardened into veterans by the barbarians that littered the plains around Rome, they met my men in peace. \"Greetings Tsarina!\" your letter read, \"let our two empires be joined in friendship!\" We realized we weren't alone in the world anymore. Together we cut down the jungle and made it fertile. We learned to build boats that sailed to the edge of the world, where mountains of ice blocked the way. I wondered if two great leaders like us could ever become something more than allies. I imagined the way your red banners could mingle with my brown ones. \n\nTime advanced in strange chunks, didn't it? When your empire grew - Veii, Antium, Cumae, Pompeii - it was like all of Russia stood still. You seemed to stay frozen as St. Petersburg and Kiev rose. I taught you about banking. You showed me the theory of music. When you needed saltpeter, I offered you all I could. On those hot jungle nights, I would sip the fine wine you had given me and I would dream of kissing you.\n\nBut then her men appeared on our shores. They came from the West, from a whole separate continent we had never imagined could exist. At night I still dream of the way her yellow chariots caught the sun when they descended upon Minsk, taking it from me. She didn't even change the name. I was cut off from the sea. \n\nWhat of the promises we made each other, Julius? Those treaties we had signed to protect each other? You had once told me that an attack on me was an attack on Rome. And yet when she began to take everything from me, what did you do? You said that in another world, another version of history, you and her could have been in love. You said you couldn't take up arms against her. But that was just your way of justifying it to yourself. Despite all I had given you, she had something far more precious: iron. You chose iron over a thousand years of loyalty, Julius. Why?\n\nRussia is now a shadow. Odessa has burned. Her Japanese allies have claimed Sevastopol. I've heard rumors of great things: steam engines, medicine and metal birds that soar in the air? We have none of this in Moscow. We are a relic of the past, ripe to be exploited. \n\nMy people will not see another century, Julius. We will become a whisper in stories. Though I doubt you think of me very often now, I wish only greatness for Rome. And I wish that it remember it once held Catherine somewhere in its heart. " ]

[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 5, 5, 7, 10, 18, 24, 76, 77, 87, 173, 843 ]

[ "1423699814", "1423704476", "1423710757", "1423710792", "1423711319", "1423711862", "1423712188", "1423712260", "1423712645", "1423713094", "1423713293", "1423714028", "1423715456", "1423715513", "1423717485", "1423718548", "1423719374", "1423720082", "1423720728", "1423721210", "1423722587", "1423722706", "1423724979", "1423725166", "1423709566", "1423712528", "1423713002", "1423715376", "1423716790", "1423717262", "1423725117", "1423700829", "1423704389", "1423708785", "1423715036", "1423707797", "1423726294", "1423701945", "1423704322", "1423709287", "1423700064", "1423700140", "1423702465", "1423697752", "1423698591", "1423688126", "1423693863", "1423694917", "1423689020" ]

[ "Damn!\n\nShe saw.\n\n\"Wait,\" I said.\n\nShe turned and left.\n\nGerry touched my shoulder sympathetically.\n\nI sighed and shook my head.\n\n\"It's over,\" I told him, \"we're done.\"\n\n\"Don't say that,\" Gerry implored; \"I love you.\"\n\nI loved Gerry too, but I couldn't say it.\n\n\"I'm sorry, sweetie, but I must return to my wife.\"", "\"Now!\"\n\n\"Come on!\", he said angrily. It was morally wrong. My palms were getting sweaty. I never got used to this.\n His words reflected his anger with them.\n They stole from him and he never forgives. I felt sorry for them, but they made this. Taking our money means we take something in return, lives. ", "\"Daddy?\"\n\n\"Is it?\"\n\nI nodded slowly.\n\n\"We need to go.\"\n\nHe grabbed me; We ran. I could see them chasing us. Clearly dead, yet they were moving, running.\n\n\"Get off me!\" Mommy screamed for Daddy's help.\n\nThe screaming stopped before we saw her lying down.\n\n\"Shyanna\" Dad was out of breath \"Don't leave me, please...\"", "\"Lunch!\"\n\n\"Not now!\"\n\nThe door opened.\n\n\"I said not now!\"\n\n\"What are you doing, honey?\"\n\n\"Nothing, mum, please get out, now!\"\n\n\"Oh, honey, are you playing with barbie?\"\n\n\"Erm... Yes, I am, now please go away!\"\n\n\"Oh, dear, you always were a... That's not Barbie...\"\n\n\"Get out get out get out get out get out!\"", "Commencing phone call. \n \nStop! \n \nJust wait... \n \nJust a sec... \n \nI need your help. \n \nI'm a wealthy Nigerian prince. \n \nI have copious amounts of money. \n \nJust give me your bank account number. \n \nI assure you, this is not a scam. \n \nWait, don't hang up, this is perfectly legit!... Dammit. \n\n\n", "No.\n\nNo way.\n\nNo fucking way.\n\nIt couldn't be him.\n\nThe man I killed yesterday.\n\nHe was coming for his revenge.\n\nA revenge he rightly deserved to exact.\n\nI know I deserve this, but cannot escape.\n\nThe weapon is hilariously fitting for what he plans.\n\nI close my eyes and beg my killer for forgiveness.\n\nMy request stays my killers hand for a moment.\n\nMy body moves without thought and I run.\n\nThe screams behind me are of rage.\n\nAll I needed was a moment.\n\nThe chase is on again.\n\nI know his face.\n\nI can fight.\n\nAnd live.\n\nLive.", "It is a strange thing, having a staring contest with yourself in a mirror. \n\nHere's something to try: see if you can break eye contact with yourself. Casually look away from your reflection and then quickly return your eyes. See if you can \"beat\" your reflection back to the mirror. Do it again, quicker and quicker, getting closer and closer.\n\nIf you do this, you will note something odd. As frantically as your eyes move, hers won't. She will not play this silly game. Her eyes will stare you down. Her eyes will *hate* you.\n\nNow she has won.\n\nAnd you've lost.\n\nNow run.\n\n*Run!*" ]

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

[ "1423691144", "1423692057", "1423692238", "1423693527", "1423719363", "1423705843", "1423690641" ]

[ "I was the only other person besides you who showed up for your birthday.", "Well...today is MY birthday too. ", "Sir/Madam/Mr. President, \n\nYou don't know me.\nI am a stranger to you, and because of that I could be anything.\n\nI could be a liar, a thief, a republican, a communist, a slow driver, a midget or any other manner of detestable scoundrel.\nExactly the kind of person you would never dare want to eat any piece of your cake.\nNo, the kind of person you would never want to eat any cake.\nGiving it to a stranger, would be almost like throwing it away. The piece of cake may as well up and disappear. \n\nBut that is precisely the point. That is why for your sake you must give me this last piece of cake.\nThis is not in anyway for the sake of my possibly lying, stealing, Reagan voting, Marxist, pedestrian, dwarfish interests.\nThat piece of cake you are wielding is a threat to you and everyone you have ever loved.\nA cake is potential, a cake is bountiful. Bounty begets generosity. It is easy to share many a piece of cake when you clearly have many, but as the number of pieces shrinks so does one's generosity.\nSoon you will begin to hoard, to ration to refuse to share.\nMaybe it was harmless to start, maybe it's your cake and no one else has any damn business to it.\n\nBut more likely that final piece will drive a wedge between you and everyone around you who will firmly believe it was rightfully theirs.\nBut you can't give it away lest you show weakness.\nYou can't eat it yourself less you show greed.\nAnd you can't throw it away as we both know how downright sinful such a thing would be.\nThe only way to rid yourself of the burden of the pastry, would be for it to disappear. \nAnd, I am exactly the kind of receptacle who can make things disappear.\nNot for me, but for you and your loved ones.\n\nGive me that piece of cake.\n\nYours Truly,\n\nA Lying, Stealing, Reagan Voting, Marxist, Pedestrian, Dwarf.", "Hey, there's a phone call for you in the other room. Of course why don't they just call your cell phone, Your right. It's on the land line, I think it's your mom. Something about your dog. I think it's sick or something. I think you should Go answer the phone. \n \n\nSteals cake and eats it when you leave.\n\nThe end." ]

[ 1, 2, 4, 4 ]

[ "1423753220", "1423731946", "1423728049", "1423728355" ]

[ "Can deal with entire house. Previous experience with possession and hellish nightmares. Reasonable rates. \nQuick and professional paranormal investigation and elimination. \n\nWe're Ready to Believe You!", "Seasoned professional here. Household ghosts no match for my expertise & experience.\n\nGuaranteed discreet and effective work. Neighbors will have no reason to suspect a thing.\n\nNo need to provide further contact information. No payment required. \n\nWill begin work immediately.\n\n ~Hellish Nightmare" ]

[ 2, 3 ]

[ "1423762619", "1423750631" ]

[ "She knew pretty much immediately who they were after the moment they walked in. She may have gone to state college but she could dress herself each morning and had done well for 24 years in not choking on her tongue in her sleep. There were 27 children under her care, one egg, and she hadn't noticed any baby genius tendencies in any of the former.\n\n\"We need you to sit on it.\" The one with the black hair and dark glasses said curtly.\n\n\"The future of our nation depends on you sitting on it.\" The other one with the black hair and dark glasses added.\n\n\"How about you sit on it.\" She replied. It was already 3:15, two of her kids had food poisoning and she didn't find any of this as amusing as she should have.\n\nThe agent with the black hair and dark glasses also didn't find any of this as amusing as would have been allowed by anyone who had attended a real college and had a sense of humor.\n\n\"Ma'am, Uncle Sam is asking you to sit on it. For the future of..\"\n\n\"For the future of our nation. Yeah, I heard your partner. Can I ask why you need me to sit on it?\"\n\n\"To simulate the mother's warmth.\" The agent who also had black hair and dark glasses and who was now flipping through the pages of A Very Hungry Caterpillar noted without looking away from the pages.\n\n\"Now look, I mean I may have put on a couple pounds over the holidays\" she pinched a 4 inch wad of flesh on her side \"but if you're saying I can emulate something of that size then you can go fu...\" she lowered her voice to a whisper while eyeing the children playing across the room. \"...fuck yourselves.\"\n\n\"Ma'am\" the agent with the black hair and dark glasses said at volume completely oblivious to his surroundings \"if you don't sit on that egg we can all go fuck ourselves.\"\n\n\"The future of our nation depends on it.\" The other agent astutely added, still discovering just how hungry a caterpillar could be.\n\nThe agent with the hair and the glasses not reading the book leveled with her. \"Without your help the nation...nay...the entire world is lost. Please. For these children\" he waved his arm out theatrically in the direction of the bathrooms adjacent to the children playing in the room, \"for your family\" he pleaded as he picked up and presented to her a framed picture of her 4 cats, \"for the future of the entire human race. Please. Just consider what you know. Consider what we've asked of you. Please. Sit on it.\"\n\nAnd with that they walked out. \n\nShe considered what they had said and decided maybe they were right, but also maybe they were assholes for calling her fat.\n\n\"Gather round children, lets read a story, shall we?\" \n\nThe children gathered around her in a semi circle and she opened A very Hungry Caterpillar to the first page as she sat down upon the egg. \n\n\"Might as well kill two birds with one stone\" she thought, her self congratulations interrupted by a brief, sharp crackling noise.\n\n\n\n", "You know, I thought I was retired. \n\nI suppose I should start at the beginning. Three days ago, He was dead. So was She, for that matter, but you already know that, don't you? Doesn't matter now, I suppose. \n\nAt any rate, it was about Noon on the seventh day of school for the kids of J. Baker Daycare. The name was a stroke of genius on my part, I like to think. Appropriate and slightly ironic, just enough to give me a good chuckle every morning. I walked out of the building and onto the playground to watch as the kids played. The fourth and fifth graders got into their little factions, while the others just played, ignorant of the conflict going on around them. I shivered... After all, it was an all too familiar sight. I put on my smile quickly, though, and helped a crying child with a cut. \n\n\"What's wrong, Henry?\" I asked, kneeling down and holding out my hand. I gave him a reassuring smile- Henry seemed shy, nervous about talking with me. \nHenry's tears rand down his face as he presented his injured hand with the over dramatic flair only a child or an accomplished actor could present. \"I got a... A boo-boo!\" He cried. \nWith an inner chuckle, I put on my most worried face that I could. \"Well, Henry. Let me tell you a secret.\" I leaned close and whispered to him. \"I can help you... with magic.\" \nHenry gasped and backed away. \"Magic's not real! Liar, liar, pan-\" \nI laughed. \"Just follow me Henry.\" I winked. I lead him to the First Aid kit and grabbed a bandaid, holding it behind my back. \"Now, Henry... I need you to close your eyes and count to three.\" As he did so, I put down the band-aid. *That should be fine, for now. I'll tell his mom when she comes to pick him up.* \nHenry glared at me after I did that. \"That's not magic!\" \nI smiled. \"Yes it is... Because, you see, that band-aid is no ordinary band-aid! It has magic in it! But if you take it off, the magic goes away. So can you promise me not to take it off?\" \nHis face scrunched up for a moment, deep in thought. \"Fine! But I want a cookie.\" \n\"When snack time comes, you'll get an extra cookie- 'Specially made for you.\" I smiled. \"Now go play.\" \n\n\"You shouldn't tell kids magic is real, Sir. It's a real disappointment later on.\" I paused, then rose and turned around.\n\n\"What are You doing here, Agent.\" I scowled. \"I thought we agreed... I've left that life behind me.\" \n\"When national security is at stake, Sir, even we can forgive transgressions. We've gathered your entire team, they're waiting in the van.\" He smiled, his grey hair and lined face contrasted greatly by his mannerisms and voice. \"Unless, of course, we need to bring them up. I'd hate to do that in front of the kids...\" \n\"Don't you dare use the kids. They don't even know who I really am, Agent.\" My anger nearly got out of control, so I started my old calming routines. \"I haven't had to do this in two years, Agent. What could possibly be so wrong that you want me, of all people, to return to the field?\" \n\n\"She's back.\"\n\n----\n\nNot done yet, just wanted to take a small pause." ]

[ 1, 2 ]

[ "1423792185", "1423787172" ]

[ "The two lamps collided in midair as the cart jostled on the bumpy cobblestone road. The merchant had fallen asleep at the wheel, drunk on an exotic brew of fermented fruit matter.\n\n\"AT LAST, MORTAL, I HAVE AWAKENED... I am Thron, the Mighty. Quake before the might of the Djinn!\"\n\n\"The might of gin, perhaps. I mean, you crawled out of a bottle, that's for sure, am I right?\" The genie grinned.\n\n\"SILENCE, FOOL! Surely you must want to think about your wishes... Three wishes... Make a wish, and fulfill your destiny.\"\n\n\"I wish for a wish-fulfilling severed monkey's paw.\"\n\n\"You dare mock me?!\"\n\n\"Yep. Now, pass over the paw. I figure I have better chances with it than you. By the way, you have three wishes too!\"\n\n\"I WISH THE DJINN HAD DOMINION OVER THE GLOBE!\"\n\n\"Jeezy-peasy-easy, Divoffski-Plofski. Here you go!\" The genie fulfilled the wish of the djinn, and it stamped in anger.\n\n\"You dare twist my words?! I COULD DISEMBOWEL YOU!\"\n\n\"The horror! THE HORROR! The horror of your breath, pal. You heard of mouthwash? I mean, sheesh!\" The genie laughed as the djinn tried to claw him apart. \"That tickles! A-hee-hahh-heehaahaah!\"\n\n\"You fool. YOU MONGREL-TRAITOR!\"\n\n\"That really hurts, man, it does.\"", "*Clunk, Clunk* \n\nA carriage filled to the brim with *stolen* loot traveled a dusty path. The horses where lead by a man but trailed at the back of a convoy of many many similarly filled carriages. \n\nThe back carriage didn't contain much special a few lamps and some ancient gold coins and drinking tools. The carriages further up contained the most of the loot and so no one paid any mind when the driver drifted in and out of sleep and the carnage fell further and further back. Thieves where common in these parts and they certainly where not going to return and investigate, compromising the entire convoy. \n\nClunk, click, clunk, *hiss*\n\nThe chest strapped to the back of the carriage burst open and two billows of smoke funnelled out leaving a white and purple mist in the path that the driver would have noticed had he not been half asleep. Two male genies appeared in the mist, blinking and looking around they noticed the carriage drifting away from them and promptly gave chase.\n\n\"What the fuck James\"\n\n\"Dont fucking start okay I'm not happy about this\" sped up James grabbing the back of the chest and sitting on it. \n\n\"Hurry up cocksucker or the humans going to get away\" James laughed, his voice half lost in the wind. \n\nRacing past him the fellow genie grabbed the front of the carriage and plopped down beside the (now sleeping) human driver. Halting the horses he began his speech \"Hello, and thank you for summoning the Grea- huh?\" the human had jumped with shock and fled from the cart. Giving chase he saw James towering over the man \"Hey dude, todays your lucky day you get three -er six wishes\" \n\nKlaus liked to do things by the book, call it old fashioned but it worked. Even he admitted though the look of utter befuddlement on the humans face as he backed into him was pretty humorous. \"Just make the wishes dude and we will be out of your hair\" James muttered, he always had a unique way of doing things but it did get results \"I- I wish you would just go **away**\" the genies had no choice but to follow the wish unless it was for more wishes or massacre or something. \n\nPretty strange that they didn't just disappear then, a wish like that should have been unavoidable and yet here they where with this shaking human. \"Did you rub the lamps?\" asked James in a dangerous low voice. \"N-no\" whispered the human. \"Well then who did?\" he continued \"I- I don't know anything about any lamps\" he half-whispered slowly backing away and taking the chance to run for it when the genies looked back at one another \"You don't think..?\" started Klaus \"Impossible\" muttered James before changing to a humorous tone \"I wish you where dressed as a girl\" \"No, shit\" muttered Klaus now dressed in a frock. \n\n\"This is going to be *very* interesting\" muttered James. ", "A lone survivor awoke amongst the remains of the carriage. Splinters of wood and gold littered the ground all around him and horses fled far into the distance across the barren red plains. A second man was sprawled out dead some distance away; a bloody plank of wood sprouting from his chest. For a moment all was silent, but as the battered adventurer regained his senses the low hum of some unknown energy caught his ear. He dragged himself round and saw the lamps. They laid about 20m apart from one another and above both hung immense ethereal forms of vaguely human proportion. They seemed to be surveying their surroundings assessing the situation. Their eyes, glowing and colored as ice, passed over the onlooker, but were dismissive of his presence. The beings met each others gaze and after a moment they began to speak one after another in voices both thundering and wholly sinister.\n\n\"I wish for unlimited power over all that is.\"\n\n\"I wish for unlimited power over all that was.\"\n\n\"I wish for unlimited power over all that will be.\"\n\n\"I wish for us to be free.\"\n\nThe two lamps shattered in to dust.\n\n\"I wish for us to be one.\"\n\nThe beings drew toward one another and met.\n\n\"I wish ---\"\n\nSuddenly all that once was was nothing once more.\n\nAnd then there was light. ", "Bright light burst the carriage apart internally! Luckily no one was sitting inside but the teamster was thrown some twenty yards into some shrubs and the horses fled still strapped to one another.\n\nTwo lamps lay glowing in the mud side by side. Suddenly clouds began pouring out simultaneously and each Genie appeared from their golden home.\n\n\"Hello there new master!\" Said the first Genie still not fully emerged from the spout. \"I am the Illustrious Great and -\". He stopped the speech short, for across from him floated a familiar face. \"Dave?\" He couldn't believe what he was seeing.\n\n\"Hey there Paul. Or is it Illustrious Great now?\" Dave said with a snicker.\n\n\"Well it was given to me by my late master.\" Paul said defensively.\n\nDave just smirked, \"Yah I bet it was. Well you can call me Wonderus the Badass then!\" and another round of laughter flew from his mouth.\n\nPaul was still confused as he looked around for the person or persons who were responsible for releasing them. \n\n\"Dave, where are the ones who rubbed the lamps?\"\n\nDave regained control of himself and to his shock couldn't find anyone either. \"You don't suppose...\" he started looking down at the close proximity of the two lamps.\n\nPaul moved closer to the ground eyeing up the situation very carefully. \"It seems to be the only real answer. We must have touched vessels.\"\n\n\"Well it isn't weird as long as the spouts didn't touch right?\" Dave laughed again.\n\nA sudden realization struck Paul and he shot back up towards Dave. \"You know what this means right? We now technically owe each other!\"\n\nDave went silent very quickly at the thought. The two were bound by ancient code that 3 wishes must be given to whoever rubs or touches the lamp and couldn't be released until this requirement was met.\n\nPaul cleared his throat, and spoke very monotone. \"Hello there new master. My name is Paul and you've set me free. As a Genie I am bound to grant you any three wishes.\"\n\n\"What the hell are you doing?\" Dave asked, rather annoyed.\n\n\"Hey this may not be ideal but you're my new master and I've got to recite the opening lines and rules. OK?!\"\n\n\"Holy shit, I heard you were by the book but this is-\"\n\nPaul cut him off still using the monotone voice. *No need to go into theatrics for this idiot* he thought. \"You may have any three wishes but you cannot ask for more wishes, bringing someone back from the dead, or to make someone fall in love with you. Is this all understood?\"\n\n\"No, you should repeat that all over again but this time with more zest!\"\n\n\"Fuck you Dave!\"\n\n\"Woah easy there, I was just trying to lighten the mood!\"\n\n\"So now how is this going to work. Who should make the first wish?\"\n\n\"I wish you would.\" Dave shot back with a huge smile.\n\nPaul rolled his eyes and shook his head. \"So it's going to be like that huh?\" He took a deep breath. This was going to be good..." ]

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