Split (1)

train · 10k rows

comment_score int64 11 23.1k	post_score int64 533 42.1k	profane float64 0 0.4	token_count int64 444 10k	chatml listlengths 3 3
1,428	10,661	0.014228	1,478	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You're the town's superhero. Your greatest enemy is the town's supervillian. However, secretly, your both brothers. This isn't anything tragic, as your whole destructive rivalry is actually just a massive prank on your third brother, the mayor.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The Mayor drove to the town square, preparing for the end of the world. He turned onto Main Street as people fled down the wide sidewalks, eyes bulging, mouths wide. Police cars parked at crazy angles across the road, lights flashing, officers hunkered down, peeking over the hoods.\n\nThere, on the manicured lawn in front City Hall, crouched in a fighting pose, red cape undulating in the light breeze, was his brother Mark, known by his other moniker, The Answer. He stood opposite a taller, more slender man in bright green and black spandex, arms crossed across his chest, face stretched by a rakish grin, the Mayor’s other brother Matt, known by his moniker, Giga-Death.\n\n“Are you guys kidding me?” The Mayor slammed the door of his Prius, feeling conspicuous in his day off attire: workout shorts, t-shirt, and baseball cap. “Today? You had to do this today?”\n\nGiga-Death raised an eyebrow, “Revolution waits for no man, Mr. Mayor. Even on an auspicious day such as this.” He turned sideways, revealing a cube-shaped object, rising to Giga-Death’s chest, covered by a black sheet. “Behold! The end of the world as we—”\n\n“‘Behold’? ‘Auspicious’?” The Answer straightened. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but why do you talk like that when you put on your wetsuit?”\n\n“You wear a cape Mark!” Matt’s eyes flashed, pulling at his silky, black hair, just as he did when they were children. “Like I said, this is the object of your ruin! A town reduced to rubble at the push of a button!”\n\nThe Answer moved forward.\n\n“Ah ah! Stop right there Mark!” Giga-Death held up a matte-black object in his hand. “You aren’t going to surprise me when I’m monologuing this time. I press this and they’re going to have to build New-New Haven over the ashes of New Haven!”\n\n“Un-fucking-real.” The Mayor wiped his forehead and adjusted his cap. “What do you want Matt?” He flopped his arms at his sides.\n\nGiga-Death narrowed his eyes, clenching his jaw into a snarl. “What do I want, Andrew? I want you people to take me seriously! I am Giga-Death, and I am your doom! Also, I want 50 million transferred to this Swiss—\"\n\nThe Answer leapt at Giga-Death, tackling him around the waist. Andrew jolted forward a few steps, cringing as his brother smashed his fist into the wanna-be super villain’s face, just like he did when they were kids. Giga-Death rolled, forcing The Answer off him. As they stood, Giga-Death clamped his foot down on The Answer’s cape, yanking the hero's head back, and straight into Giga-Death’s fist. The hero fell.\n\n“Fine!” Matt held up the remote. “I won’t miss my chance this time.”\n\n“No!” Andrew raised his arms as Giga-Death pressed the button.\n\nThe sheet flew away to the sound of pops, blowing multi-colored confetti into the air. A song blared. The Mayor furrowed his brow when he recognized the corny jingle: “Celebrate good times, come on!” A large cake sat in a glass case on a plinth.\n\nGiga-Death smiled and The Answer jumped up, throwing an arm around the villain.\n\n“Ok, don’t over do it, man.” Matt shrugged off the arm.\n\n“Happy Birthday, buddy!” Mark beamed, ignoring his brother.\n\nAndrew gaped, heat rising to his cheeks. A mortified expression smeared on his face. “You assholes. The police came out and everything.” He motioned to the police cars, then noticed the officers. They were all looking at him, smiling. “Oh you gotta be kidding.”\n\nLaughter erupted. The Mayor’s brothers strode up to him. “It’s not everyday your big bro turns 40.” Mark jabbed a red-gloved fist into Andrew’s shoulder.\n\n“All of that was a show?” Andrew took off his ball cap.\n\n“It was Matt’s idea.” Mark said, squinting, bringing a hand to his jaw. “You didn’t have to actually sock me, though, man.” He looked at the smirking villain.\n\n“Happy Birthday, Andrew.” The not-so-much-at-this-moment super villain said, before he turned and walked away. The brothers watched as he got on his motorcycle and revved the engine. “I’ll let you all take care of the clean-up.” The Mayor's and his cape-clad brother’s phones suddenly chirped. An explosion roared over the party music. “Sounds like it’s coming from the bank!” Giga-Death yelled. “I wouldn’t know anything about that. Here’s to many more, Mr. Mayor.” He smiled and sped off.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,857	10,657	0.142992	2,339	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "\"I wish to only age on days that I am happy.\" That was over 100 years ago and you've barely aged a day.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "It only took one day. One single stupid sentence out of my mouth. \n\nI found the genie in a tarnished silver teakettle, under a fur coat in an antique store. When I lifted the coat, I saw my own face staring back at me, warped like a carnival mirror in the silver. It called to me like it knew me, like it heard every murmuring secret of my heart.\n\nI plucked it up and took it home.\n\nYou’d expect an Aladdin sort of genie. A grinning blue-skinned Robin Williams sort of a guy. But the creature that emerged when I opened the kettle was like the color of ash. Living smoke, yellow-eyed, staring at me with hunger and delight.\n\nWhat is your wish, mortal? it had asked, speaking without speaking. Its voice pulsed against the walls of my skull. \n\nI weighed on it for days. I held that kettle in my hands almost every waking moment, but the silver never warmed to my touch. It was always cold, always heavy. Just as heavy as fate. But my mother had raised me on a steady diet of fairytales and fables. I knew the tricks genies pulled.\n\nSo I weighed out my wishes. Planned them carefully, trying to predict the domino-fall that would come. I was so cocky, so sure, when I finally decided on them. Three wishes that should have made my life perfect, if life could ever be perfect. \n\nGod, how wrong I was.\n\nI read the genie my wishes from a careful list, my hand shuddering with excitement.\n\nI wished to never want for health or money, ever again. \n\nI wished to know love the moment I saw it. \n\nAnd what is your last wish, human? the genie had asked, those amber eyes glowing with delight. That should have been my warning. That devil-eyed grin. \n\n“I wish,” I had said, so calm and so sure, “to only age on days when I am happy. So I don’t waste time chasing sorrow.”\n\nThe genie threw back his head and cackled. It was a sound like thunder breaking open. My living room darkened with the storm of his power.\n\nAs you wish, human, the genie said. \n\nRegret is the sound of that genie, rushing back into the lamp in an inward rush of air. It is the cold fist that closed around my bones when I realized, with the finality of a grave, that this is my life now.\n\nRegret is all I have now. \n\n**\n\nIt takes so little for a life to change. \n\nIt only took five hours of rain to kill my mother and father. Their car was flattened by a hydroplaning semitruck, sucking them both under the wheels. The car was spilling metal and blood all over the street. The pictures from the news still spin dizzy dark circles through my mind.\n\nJust rain and bad luck. That’s all it took to leave me alone, forever. \n\nMy world went dark after that day. All the lights flickered out on my hope, one by one.\n\nThere was no escape to it. Couldn’t drink myself to oblivion. For a while, my friends would show up, until they too dropped off one by one, like flies. I watched their love for me—which once burned golden in their cheeks—dim and die on their faces like a lightbulb, burning up its filament. \n\nAll the while, I never aged. I look exactly as I did the day they died: twenty-five, dark-haired and dead-eyed. After enough time passed, no one recognized me as Marty and Barb’s son.\n\nA woman who was once my neighbor growing up stopped me on the street to tell me, “You look just like a boy I once knew. Marty and Barb’s boy. But that must have been…” She shook her head. “I don’t know how long ago now.”\n\nThirty years,* I wanted to scream at her. She had dried like an orange peel in the sun, but at least she had the right to die. To escape. To know the kiss of time once more.\n\nI just forced a lightless smile and told her, “The world is a small place.”\n\nI left my hometown after that. Been wandering ever since from town-to-town. Money appears in my bank account when I need it. Never more than I need in that moment, never less. I chase the foxtail of boredom and despair from one corner to the next, hoping to catch up with… something. Anything. \n\nAnything but this.\n\nSo time wound itself on and on, day after day, year after year, decade after decade. \n\nAnd I was trapped in it all.\n\n*\nIt only took one day. \n\nI barely knew what city I was in. A hundred years of new cities and new places made me stop even paying attention. I departed the train at whatever stop looked the most interesting, or whenever I was hungry and tired and bored enough to get off and stretch my legs. \n\nThis time, when I climbed off, the bus let me out in an Amtrak station in what felt like the middle of nowhere. It was a dusty little dirt town, the kind of place that never would have had a bullet train to it even fifty years ago. But I was too jaded to be grateful for it now.\n\nNow, I was just… tired. Dusty and exhausted. \n\nI sank down on the departures bench and held my head in my hands and waited. \n\nA voice made me lift my head in surprise.\n\n“You look like you could use some company.”\n\nI leaned back and squinted up at the stranger beside me. She looked my age before I stopped aging. Twenty-ish, her dark curls gathered in a wild bun. She smiled when I caught her stare.\n\n“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”\n\n“I don’t think I have. I’m Summer.” She settled down beside me, and she smelled like summer. Like daisies and fresh cotton. She shrugged off her backpack and set down what looked like some kind of instrument case. Then she sighed, flopping on the bench beside me. “Sorry. You tell me if I’m, like, interrupting your meditation or something. I'm told I'm fatally extroverted. Literally. My friends always tell me I'm gonna get ax-murdered or something for all the strangers I talk to.”\n\n“You’re not interrupting anything,” I said. I couldn’t help my awkward mumbling. It had been at least eighty years since I had a friend to talk to, really. No one but the dark whisper of my own thoughts to comfort me. “Can’t say I make good company, though.”\n\n“You’re probably better than you think. What brings you all the way out to Onstead?”\n\n“Oh.” I blinked around. “Is that where we are?” \n\nI expected her to find some excuse to leave, like most people did. I braced myself for it. The inevitability of that loneliness. \n\nHer laugh was high and tinkling. “Did you sleep through your stop or something?”\n\n“Sort of.” I nodded down to the instrument case. “What’s in the bag?”\n\n“Oh, my trusty uke.” She plucked up the bag and unzipped it, beaming, to show me a ukulele that had been handpainted to look like a watermelon. “I never go anywhere without it.”\n\n“Can I …. I have to ask something. I’m sorry if it sounds rude.”\n\nShe slapped her knees and grinned. God, she was cute. “Shoot.”\n\n“Why are you talking to me?”\n\n“I like talking to lonely people. I remember how that feels.” Summer zipped back up her ukulele case and smiled sideways at me. “We vagabonds have to stick together.”\n\nAnd as I watched, her face began to light up. Just a little tinge of sunlight, brightening in her cheeks. \n\n“I’d like that,” I admitted, and my smile warmed to match hers.\n\nLater, I followed Summer as she took me on urban explorations through buildings that had been new and flourishing when I was a boy, but were being devoured by nature now. She took me to abandoned theme parks, to dead hotels, to concert halls with weeds sprouting up from the ruined floorboards.\n\nI followed her everywhere, watching the glow of her love gathering brighter and brighter in her cheeks. That light was hot on my face the first time we kissed. The first time I held her against me, skin-to-skin, breath-to-breath. And I knew I would follow her forevermore. \n\nI wouldn’t notice time settling back on my shoulders until the weeks became months and months became years and my first grey hairs began to sprout. My first wrinkles. Summer would hold my cheeks and kiss me and call me her wonderful old man.\n\nIt only took a day.\n*\n/r/nickofstatic for more stories with me and my best friend NickofNight", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,386	10,648	0.121133	1,365	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You're a 21st century Super-villain with a Doomsday device and a ransom message to the world. But the internet is so flooded with garbage you can't get any traction on your Tweets and videos, and no one's seeing the message.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "I sent out the Tweet with a sinister twinkle in my eyes. There was nothing to explain past the video posted. My robot army. My unequivocal power. I laid back, waiting for the responses and pleas for mercy to flood in. I couldn't wait for authority figures to start asking me for my demands. On cue, I got a reply within my first ten minutes.\n\n@YaBoiBiff:\nImagine 2020 getting this bad LMAOOOOOOO\n\nI frowned at the screen. He seemed to think I'd posted something akin to a meme. \n\n@EvilAndYouKnowIt:\nThis is not a joke. I am actually launching my world domination plan if my demands are not met.\n\nI stared at the screen waiting for a reply when a second person replied. \n\n@OGTrilogyOnly:\nThese are really impressive effects. What sftware do u use?\n\nI shook my head in disbelief.\n\n@EvilAndYouKnowIt: These are not special effects. This is real footage.\n\n@OGTrilogyOnly: Sure. I can see the cg not rendering properly when the children's hospital blows up\n\n@EvilAndYouKnowIt: No, that's a real children's hospital. The Dartman Hospital for Children. It was all over the news last wekk\n\n@OGTrilogyOnly: It's spelled 'week' you idiot\n\n@YaBoiBiff: Lol!!\n\nI blinked a few times then clicked into @OGTrilogyOnly's profile. It looked like it was a scrawny kid named James living in Canada.\n\n\"Drone 444!\" I yelled.\n\n\"Yes Commander?\" the drone responded immediately.\n\n\"Go kill James in Canada. I'm sending you an address right now. Go blow up his house, get it on camera, and upload it. We'll use that to fuel the fire here. I'm having a hard time going viral,\" I said, lounging back again as the drone flew out of the lair. It will also be a good example for those that want to call me an idiot.\n\nA few minutes later, the drone uploaded the footage to my profile:\n\n@EvilAndYouKnowIt: Look at the destruction caused to @OGTrilogyOnly! It won't end with James!!\n\nI nodded at my own genius. This was a good post. In just a few more minutes, it was already getting views in the hundreds. I laughed heartily, waiting for authorities to ask me what they could do to assuage my will to destroy them. In less than an hour #JusticeForJames was trending. I clicked into it excitedly. The video was on everyone's feed!!\n\n@GrillPower: It's such a shame how poorly our houses are made in canada! Civil engineers should be ashamed to allow something as stupid as a gas leak to kill someone #JusticeForJames\n\n\"What?\" I said, continuing to scroll.\n\n@SpaghettiRegretti: Absolutely AWFUL. My heart goes out to his family. The industry can't get away with gas leaks! #JusticeForJames Rest In Power James\n\n\"No, no,\" I stammered typing a reply to one of the posts quickly.\n\n@EvilAndYouKnowIt: This was not an accident! I did this!\n\n@SassySarrraaaaa: This is not funny. I reported you\n\n@EvilAndYouKnowIt: I'm not joking! I killed the kid with the explosion!!\n\n@RellyKewl: SHUT UP! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WOULD TRY TO JOKE ABOUT A TRAGEDY LIKE THIS\n\nI clicked to reply, but nothing showed up. Confused I clicked again. No response. I refreshed the page.\n\nYour Twitter account has been banned for violating our terms of service.\n\n\"What!?\" I screamed. I slammed my face into the keyboard. I'd have to resort to some other social media. Hopefully, one that would't kick me off before I was able to get the message across.\n\n\"Hey! Drone 2322!\"\n\n\"Yes commander?\"\n\n\"Make me an Instagram account with the handle @EvilAndYouKnowIt!\" I commanded. \n\n\"That name is taken, Commander,\" the drone responded after a second of deliberation. I frowned.\n\n\"Find them and kill them,\" I demanded.\n\n_________________________________\n\nFor more stories, come see /r/Nazer_The_Lazer!", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,404	10,647	0.058188	1,768	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Music is a dangerous weapon, if not careful entire species can fall to madness upon discovering it. It has been theorised that any race with more than a thousand songs could wipe out all intelligent life, which is why Humanity is so feared in the galaxy despite no human really ever knowing why", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Of all the species on earth, only humans had all the pieces of the puzzle. Some animals like chimps could perceive beat, other animals could feel tempo or pitch, but by the 1990s we knew that understanding every aspect of music was unique to us.\n\nBut we didn't fully understand how unique until the 2050s.\n\nThe aliens arrived, encased in soundproof ships, hovering in orbit and sending physical probes down, again and again, begging for the sounds to stop, in every language and way they could.\n\nOnly after a year of working to reduce the amount of exoatmospheric transmissions did we finally get the chance to meet them face to face.\n\nDr. Aster tugged on her biohazard suit, trying to make it a bit more comfortable as their ship was brought into the alien one. Supposedly the aliens had ensured that there would be no harmful things in the ship, but the only person to fluently speak their language couldn't be risked.\n\nBut the door opened and they were finally able to see the aliens.\n\nAster's first thought was cats, but too long and with six legs. They wore very simple utilitarian clothing which covered everything but their hands, or paws, and head.\n\nAster stepped forward and kneeled, putting one hand on the floor in front of her as a greeting.\n\nThe alien that was apparently the head of the greeting party did the same, before speaking in their high pitched gutteral language.\n\n\"We are pleased to finally meet your people in peace, and that aggressions have stopped.\"\n\nAster translated but was also paying attention to the marker clicks in the language,\n\n\"The... Tone of their statement is that of pleading,\" she added to her translation, allowing the diplomats to whisper among themselves as she watched the alien.\n\nT-T'ggrokl was the name of the alien translator, who had spoken. They understood a vast number of human languages, but could barely speak them it seemed.\n\nT-T'ggrokl also seemed more jumpy and distracted than any of the other aliens, ears flicking to the side and constant twitching of the legs compared to an absolute stony vigilance from the rest, who only moved in their breathing and when they had to perform an action.\n\n\"We are also glad that we now know that our sounds were causing you harm,\" the diplomats said and Aster translated, adding in emotional markers when needed to convey the diplomats tone. \"Now that we have understood this and stopped it, we hope that our peoples can become allies.\"\n\nAs they reached the word Hope, Aster realized that she didn't know that word, and held up a hand for the diplomats to pause. Using vocal markers to show that she was asking a personal question, not an official one, she asked T-T'ggrokl a question.\n\n\"What is your word for desiring something happen, without demanding it?\"\n\nT-T'ggrokl showed signs of discomfort and spoke rapidly with one of the others, speaking about desire as a word before responding to Aster.\n\n\"Desiring is the past tense of demand, there is Hoped, but we do not have a word for hoped that is now.\"\n\nAster thought for a moment about this before asking a clarifying question.\n\n\"You know the use of our word 'hope' what would be the closest word for you?\"\n\nAnother pause, and then \"Distracted-demand\" was the phrase required.\n\nThe implications were negative, Aster spent ten minutes modifying the diplomats message before finally conveying it, and another four hours translating until finally there was some time to rest.\n\nUnsurprisingly, she sat on the steps into the ship and observed the aliens even in her down time, and she could see T-T'ggrokl observing her.\n\nShe noticed that their twitching legs moved in a rhythm. The other aliens seemed annoyed by this, and would chastise them until they stopped for a time.\n\nShe was also surprised by how quiet everything was on the ship. No computer beeps or conversations outside of the work they were doing, everything except for T-T'ggrokl was still.\n\n\"What are you thinking?\" The pilot asked as he crouched nearby.\n\n\"I think that they developed in an environment where excess noise of any kind would be a problem,\" she hypothesized. \"And I think my counterpart, T-T'ggrokl, has some sort of adaptation or shift in behavior that allowed them to communicate with us. Despite that, the others seem to still want that unique behavior to stop. They might not even understand how crucial the modified behavior is, in understanding our language.\"\n\nThe pilot looked up and chuckled a little. \"Little dude looks like he's listening to music.\"\n\nAster turned and focused on T-T'ggrokl again. The pilot was right, there was tempo there. Even though everything she'd seen told her that this alien race did not use tempo, if she didn't know better she would think that the alien was listening to a song.\n\nShe stood and walked to the meeting point in the middle of the hanger. T-T'ggrokl noticed and met her there, eager to make sure that any needs were met.\n\n\"Are you listening to our sounds right now?\" Aster asked simply.\n\nT-T'ggrokl grimaced and shook their head. \"No. Brain damage. Cannot stop-think sounds from humans.\"\n\nAster processed this, also frowning a little. \"The sounds we were sending out, you are thinking about them.\"\n\n\"Correct. I did not sounds like the others when we heard the sounds.\"\n\nThat threw Aster for a loop. \"What does 'I did not sounds' imply? What does the word 'sounds' mean normally?\"\n\n\"Has three meanings. Loudness, stopping of life, and a warning.\"\n\nAster sat back on her heels, rubbing her eyes. \"How many stopped living from listening to our sounds?\"\n\n\"Hundreds. It infects,\" they said, matter of factly. \"The parts which are most full of sounds, not just words, they cannot be stop-think.\"\n\nAster thanked them, and went back to the ship, finding the diplomats.\n\n\"We have a problem. Music is a memetic brain damaging agent for them,\" she said quietly. \"And we've already killed half their ship before we stopped radio transmissions.\"\n\nAnd they all stared at her in horror.\n\nThat's when we learned the power we held, and we learned what a blessing it is to be able to hear the music.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,592	10,643	0.013107	1,651	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " A private investigator is hired to find a boy that has been missing for 30 years, only to eventually find out that he was the missing child and that his current \"parents\" kidnapped him at birth.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "My mouth felt dry. My hands shook nervously as I peeled through the manila folder sitting in my lap. I could hear my partners voice beside me but it sounded distant. \n\nMuffled. \n\nI scanned through my notes for the thousandth time. Years and years of work. Sleepless nights and coffee infused days. All of it, all the work and the dead ends. The promising leads that would vanish into the air like Tommy Patterson had all those years ago. All of it had led me right here. The outside of my childhood home. \n\n\"Trevor,\" my partner spoke up louder this time. My eyes widened, startled by the sudden volume and hint of frustration in his voice. I looked over, buttoned shirt rattled and tie hanging loose around my tanned neck.\n\n\"I'm good. I'm good,\" I assured him. His glare told me he was unconvinced. \n\n\"I can go in and talk to her for you. I know this is going to be hard,\" my partner, Kent, said to me, elbow resting beside the Lincoln's window, his fingers twiddling the handle above the window back and forth. I glanced back at the papers in my lap. A set of finger prints found and identified on a thirty year old door knob from a bunker found by a local farmer. A bunker with signs of kidnap and torture. A bunker for missing children. Below was an address scribbled along the side of the paper. The location of the monsters I had been looking for for all these years. \n\n___\n\n\"I'm going in alone.\" Trevor's voice was stern. Kent opened his mouth to protest but the stare Trevor gave him was menacing. A no non-sense look that made Kent almost choke on his own breath. He looked to his lap and nodded.\n\n\"Call me if you need back up,\" Kent said quietly. Trevor took a deep breath as he stepped out of the car. The cold morning breeze stung against his cheeks as he stepped into the yard he'd played in so long ago. He knocked on the front door twice and took a step back as he awaited an answer. The door swung open slowly, a smile he'd seen so many times before greeting him from behind a screen. \n\n\"Trevor?\" his mother said with a mixture of surprise and cheer. \"Is that really you? What're you doing here?\" she said almost laughing as she swung the door open and embraced Trevor in a tight hug. \n\n\"Hi, mom,\" Trevor said softly. She looked up from his chest. Her smile dropped. It was a motherly instinct to know when something was wrong with their child. Tears immediately swelled in her eyes.\n\n\"Oh no,\" she gasped, hand covering her mouth. \"What happened? Is Cassie all right? The kids?\" she asked quickly.\n\n\"Everyone at home is fine, mom. I'm fine. I'm working actually,\" he told her. Her look shifted from nervous to confused. \"Can I come in?\" he asked and stepped inside his old living room a moment later. His mom rushed to grab some coffee as he sat in his father's old recliner. Most of his things, even though it had been years since he'd passed, were still scattered around the house. Trevor pulled the folder from his coat and spread three photos evenly across the table glass table. \n\n\"I have to say I wasn't expecting to see-\" her voice faded as her eye caught the photos on the table. Trevor could hear the spoon suddenly begin to rattle against the sides of the coffee cup in her hand. \n\n\"Do any of these kids look familiar?\" Trevor asked. His heart was sinking by the minute as he watched his mom's face shift at the sight of the photos. She sat slowly in the chair across from him, placing the coffee cup at the edge of the table. \n\n\"Trevor,\" she whispered but his glare was cold and unaltered. She could hardly look him in the eye. \n\n\"Answer the question.\"\n\n\"Trevor, your father-\"\n\n\"Do they. Look familiar.\" Trevor was quickly growing impatient. He already knew the answer. She was wearing her guilt boldly on her sleeves. His mom squeaked as she began to cry. Her wrinkled hand cupped her lips as she broke down. \n\n\"Mom!\" Trevor yelled out.\n\n\"Yes!\" she answered immediately. \"Yes,\" she said again more quietly. \"Trevor, please you have to believe that what your father did-\"\n\n\"What you did! Both of you!\" Trevor screamed, holding back his own tears now. \"These innocent kids. You kidnapped and killed them?\" Trevor could barely utter the words as he shook his head in disbelief at his mother. He hardly even recognized the woman sitting across from him. He pointed at the third picture. A young boy smiling in a grey American flag shirt beside a small yellow slide. The picture was old and hazy. \"What did you do to Tommy Patterson, mom? The other two were found but there's been no sign of him. No grave, no remains. What did you do to him?\" he asked loudly. \n\n\"Trevor, please,\" his mom begged, crying profusely now. \n\n\"Mom! Where is Tommy Patterson?\" Trevor was standing now.\n\n\"Here!\" she yelled back at him. The room fell silent. \"He's right, here,\" she whispered as she looked up at Trevor. He glanced around the room and down at the floor boards. He looked to the walls and up to the ceiling. \n\n\"You buried him? In our house?\" he asked disgusted returning his gaze to his distraught mother. \"The whole time I was here, you-\"\n\n\"We didn't bury him, Trevor,\" she said looking to the floor. Her eyes slowly shifted up to his own until they locked together. \n\n\"We raised him.\" \n___\n\nEdit: Minor grammatical fixes and cleaned up some sentence structure. Also changed the last line since I feel u/Alwaysanyways suggestion is a more powerful delivery. ", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,269	10,639	0.285788	1,545	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " The reason vampires don't have a reflection is because mirrors were originally made with silver which cannot hold an image of an evil creature. When a vampire wakes up for the first time in 1000 years they find a modern day mirror without silver and are surprised by what they see.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "“Hehe,” cackled Count Sascula, leering down at the young woman looking around the deserted street. \n\nHe was perched atop a strange metal pole that somehow emitted light. There was a lot of strangeness around him, but that was to be expected after a 1000 year rest. The times may change, but Sascula didn’t. He was still the same old vampire. \n\nDown below, the pretty, brown-haired gal sensed something was wrong. She was feeling a very primal instinct, one that mankind seemed to have forgotten in their race for technological advancement. She was remembering what it’s like to be prey.\n\nSascula rubbed his bat wings together. He could smell the fear emanating off the young lady. Good. Fear was the spice of life, as he liked to say. He hoped she was a virgin as well. \n\nThe young woman burst into a run, her strange travelsack bouncing up-and-down against her back. Sascula giggled and flew after her. He twisted the air as he went, so that she began to hear strange noises: a large, distorted footstep; a breath hissing by; a finger running down her spine. \n\nShe shrieked and ran faster. Sascula could almost taste her blood. Rich, hot, stinking blood of mortals, the ambrosia and nectar of gods. Oh, how hungry he was! He amplified his batting wings so that she could hear the wind being pushed aside. \n\nAnd then, as the woman rounded a corner, Sascula burst ahead of her, cutting her off, and he morphed back into his true form. \n\n“Rargh!” he roared, spreading his cloak menacingly and displaying his sharp fangs.\n\nThe woman shrieked and made to run, but Sascula whipped his hand out and caught her. \n\nShe batted futilely at him, crying and kicking. Sascula loved it. He loved every bit of the chase and the fight, almost as much as he loved the feast itself.\n\nThe woman sobbed something in a language he couldn’t understand. No matter. Predators do not speak the language of prey.\n\nHe grinned, showing his gorgeous fangs off once more, then pulled her in roughly. She screamed and tried to wrench herself away. Her throat gleamed.\n\nSascula had enough foreplay. Her blood was spiced enough. He went in for the kill, bending his head to bite down on her jugular and to tear it in pieces and consume the lifeforce trapped within her—\n\nOut of the corner of his eye, he saw another vampire. Sascula hissed and dashed back, whipping his head around.\n\nThe woman gasped and scrambled away, weeping and shrieking. Sascula let her go. She was nothing more than a rat when compared to the potential feast of another vampire. It would be a dangerous fight after a 1000 years of hibernation, but Sascula had to take the chance.\n\nBut, there was no sight of this vampire. Perhaps he had just imagined it? He cautiously moved forward, looking around at all angles.\n\nThere, beside him! Sascula sprang back into a defensive position, fangs fully bared in a threatening display. The other vampire did the same. \n\nThe two Lords of the Night stared off at each other. Sascula moved left; the other vampire moved right. He feinted forward; the other vampire did the same. Sascula raised a hand, and the other vampire copied him again.\n\nHe was beginning to feel silly. What was this? Sascula cautiously moved closer. His foe seemed to be inside this strange building filled with various colourful clothes. A vampire seamstress? \n\nSascula frowned. The other did so as well. \n\nAnd then, he finally understood. The Count gasped and stepped forward. \n\nThis was his reflection. This was… him. \n\nSascula ran a trembling hand over his face. His jaw was thin and narrow, and he had a strong nose and small ears. His hair was black and framed his gaunt cheeks with their black curls. He opened his mouth and was pleased to see his fangs were every bit as sharp and intimidating as he had imagined.\n\nBut, the most distressing part was his eyes. He stared deep into them, observed the curve of his brow and how they were slightly tilted at the ends. \n\nSascula took a shaky breath and was suddenly transported to a time countless years ago, when he was nothing more than a little boy in a nameless village beside a gently flowing river. A boy who’d spend his nights curled up on his cot, scared of the dark and monsters. A boy who’d find comfort in the warm, loving gaze of the very eyes staring back at him right now, in this reflection, thousands of years later. \n\nHe had his mother’s eyes. They were hers without a doubt. The memory sparked in his ancient mind, and he huddled his hands around it, gently blowing soft air to grow the flame.\n\nSascula stood in front of the mirror for a long time that night, trying to remember the name of a woman he’d long ago forgotten. And when he couldn't remember, he flew away, his hunger forgotten and replaced by an aching, quiet grief.\n\n---\ncheck out my subreddit for more stories... if you dare >:D /r/chrischang", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
2,379	10,638	0.036854	962	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Discharged veteran, Kevin McAllister, returns home to handle his family's estate, mainly the decaying property in a gentrifying Chicago suburb. To the disappointment of a land developer, he won't sell. “We’ll make him sell. He’s a broken man, wounded and home alone”.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Kevin sat at the top of the stairs, nursing his injured leg. A trail of blood ran down the steps, blood that was hardly his own. \n\nIt had been a rough day.\n\nThe traps had served their purpose. Many had been wounded - they were the lucky ones. And yet they still came.\n\n**\n\nThe corrupt land developer, the source of all this madness, knew that there was no going back. If he stopped now, there was enough evidence to bring him and all his men down. \n\nNo, he needed to kill him; and Kevin was well aware. \n\n\n\nKevin heard a scream in the darkness. The lights had long ago been cut, but by the sound he knew that the bear trap had been successful. There was little left of his defenses, little left to protect himself and his home. But how many more could there possibly be? \n\nHe stood up on his good leg, limping to ground floor and checking the last of his traps. He had to be prepared for the worst. \n\n*\n\nThe land developer had had enough. He'd killed his fair share of obstinate people, and the old and the sick that did not want to leave their premises. But something was different about Kevin. Something sinister, something unnerving. \n\nBut if you needed a job done, you needed it done yourself. \n\n*\n\nHe cut off the man's screams with a swift strike to the head. Kevin grabbed the fallen trip wire, rolling it around his hand. He had nothing left to protect himself with, save for one thing. He had been prepared for this, ever since the war. This would be catharsis. \n\nKevin slipped the wire through his last trap, his final 'fuck you'. The house was already in ruins before the men had come, but this would be irreversible - as irreversible as death. \n\nHe limped away, gently trailing the wire with one hand, carefully trying to find an exit in the darkness. He tried to drown out the cries of wounded men, the cries of his past haunting him. There was never an escape, in war or in life. \n\nA glint of light flickered in the darkness, and he turned sharply towards it. Gunfire erupted, six shots hitting him in quick succession. He collapsed to the floor as the land developer approached him, taking off his night-vision goggles while reloading his weapon. \n\nHe suspected that the man would have something snarky to say, perhaps some kind of stupid monologue. He didn't wait to see if he was correct, nor did he have time to. With the last of his strength, he ripped at the wire, nine pins clattering to the floor.\n\nAnd Kevin was never alone again. \n\n* \n\n***\n\nIf you didn't completely hate that, consider subscribing to [my subreddit.](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/) \n\nI'll try add new (and old) stories every day <3", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
2,212	10,638	0.073399	2,008	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "Humans are reverse Kryptonians. They are weak on their home planet but strong everywhere else. No one knew this until Earth was attacked and humanity was taken off of earth to be enslaved.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Hollywood, I think, is the closest thing to real magic one can find on planet earth. The ability to take what lives in one's mind and broadcast it to thousands of screens across the world. The ability to invite others into your mind is a modern one. It can also be dangerous though, to consolidate a novel perception into a common perception. We all thought the same thing of an alien invasion, collectively. Flying disks, little green or grey men with big heads and laser guns conquering earth with their sheer numbers and advanced tech.\nIt wasn't like that at all. \n\nThe news never even had a chance to report it. If they did, none of us could remember. It was like having a dream that's so long that you forget you're you until you wake up and realize the life you were living was all in your head. Except we didn't wake up. We rested our heads against our pillows one night and before we even realized we were slaves, we were turning cranks in a dimly lit metallic room in a spaceship several light-years away from earth. \n\nI was sitting in my pen thinking about the weekend plans when something inside of my head just kind of snapped- like a rubber band that had held a large number of papers together for years finally gave in. The papers fell to the floor and upon them was written a story. One that I had read before and suddenly remembered in its entirety. I slowly stood up and looked around- truly looked around for the first time since I'd been here.\n\n\". . . Hello?\" I called out. My throat was dry and dusty and my voice sounded hoarse and foreign to me. I slowly made my way to the bars of my pen and wrapped my fingers around them. I swallowed painfully and rested my head in the space between the bars as I peered through the darkness. \n\nI was Trey.\n\nMy name was Trey.\n\nI didn't belong here. Panic slowly began to set in as I came to grips with my situation. \n\n\"Let me out!\" I said as loud as my voice would allow.\n\n\"LET ME OUT!!\" I screamed louder now, as though learning to scream for the first time, and as I did I yanked furiously on the bars...\nAnd they relented. \n\nAs though they were made of paper, they tore from the pen. I looked down at one of the bars in my hands and opened my fingers. There were imprints of my fingers left in the bars where I'd held them. I held onto one of them like a makeshift weapon and cautiously left my pen. It was quiet, save for the constant hum of the craft that permeated the walls of the facility. I looked down at the others in their pens- they had pressed against the bars to look at me. I slowly walked across their pens, looking at their dirty malnourished faces as I did. I stopped where all of them could see me and held the bar over my head.\n\n\"The bars are weak,\" I said quietly at first before clearing my throat. \"These bars! Pull em' off!\"\nThey stared blankly ahead as though in a comatose state. I started breathing heavily as I looked around at them.\n\"H-hey! Are you listening?? Pull the bars off, they're like paper!\"\n\nSuddenly there was a noise toward the front of the room. I turned around to see a door sliding open- they were clear and there were two sets of them like one would see in a disease control center. A couple of aliens walked through the first set of doors and stared menacingly through the glass at me as the doors closed behind them. They were holding the stun batons they frequently used to speed us up when we were slowing down. I watched as the second set of doors opened and prepared for a fight. Even if there was nowhere for me to run, I would at least make them regret what they'd done to me; to us; to earth.\n\nThey strode through the door, activating their batons. The crackle of electricity filled the room and it was bright against the darkness I'd become used to. I held the bar of my cell like a bat and slowly backpedaled as they approached. The one on the right broke off and began to circle around me. I instinctively moved myself to maintain the cone.\n\nThat's right.\n\nI was a boxer before all of this happened. \n\nI still knew to maintain the cone- to keep both of your opponents in front of you at all times. The moment one of them has your back, it's all over. The aliens chirped at me in whatever language they spoke as they drew closer and closer. With a lethal amount of adrenaline in my veins, I decided to charge at one of them. If I could knock one of them out, I had a fair fight on my hands. What I didn't expect was the speed at which I attacked. I was so fast, I didn't even swing my weapon- I kind of just exploded right through him. In the blink of an eye, I was standing in front of the containment doors covered in a thick viscous fluid. \n\nI turned around at the same time the other alien did, both of us with about equal shock plastered all over our faces. \nExcept my face was also plastered with alien guts.\n\nMaybe it was a different gravity or something? A setting on the ship? I didn't know, and I didn't really care. All that mattered was that I was strong and I was fast. The creature started chirping madly as he held his little baton in front of him. I looked down at myself and squeegeed some of the goo off of my face before glancing at the pens. The other humans were smiling in disbelief, and I had to admit, it was a contagious feeling. I held the bar out in front of me vertically and tugged on it.\n\nThe woman on the far right looked down at her bars, adjusted her grip, and yanked them clean off. The alien watched in terror as the other humans began to pull their bars apart and stride out of their cells- and then quickly broke left toward the wall. By the time I saw the alarm he was attempting to pull, a woman crashed into the wall near the switch, causing the alien to skid to a stop. While she was clearly not used to her speed yet, she had succeeded in stopping him from throwing the switch. She didn't waste time- she strode up and ripped the baton out of his hands before lifting him by his neck high into the air. His scream was cut short when she crushed his windpipe. \n\n\"Chtob tebe deti v'sup srali,\" she said as she dropped the creature to the floor.\n\nI suddenly felt dumb for not realizing it before. They weren't deaf or braindead- I might just be the only English speaker in the room. \n\nThis is what people are always saying about Americans, I thought to myself as I cringed. The humans all turned and stared at me. An Asian man began speaking in a South-Pacific dialect I didn't understand, and another woman said something in Spanish, which I actually did know a little bit of. Had they specifically placed us in rooms where we couldn't communicate with one another? I didn't have a lot of answers- but I knew one thing as the seven of us exchanged glances.\n\nWe would be slaves no more.\n\n- - -\n\nI used to get a 15-minute break at work and write as much as I could during that break. I'm self-employed now, so it's kind of a self-challenge at this point. I broke my timer by a few minutes on this one so I could research Russian for a moment. I felt it was important to get it right =P \n\nIf you enjoyed this, consider following me at r/A15MinuteMythos", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
5,537	10,633	0.01649	1,310	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Humans are the deadliest, and rarest, species in the known universe. Often, search parties go missing due to a singular encounter with a human ship. It has recently come to light that there is an entire planet full of them.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The Universal Council was in chaos.\n\nFor a relatively short amount of time, the encounters with the Sol-res, known to themselves as Humans, have dominated the headlines. These beings which existed in the absolute fringe of the galaxy known as M-801 had become a thorn in the Council's side over several cycles.\n\nWhile not the biggest or strongest species, they made up for it with their brutality, tenacity, hearty build and sheer numbers. Ships lost in that particular part of the galaxy have reported as many as several thousand on a single ship. Several thousand.\n\nThere are top-tier Universal Council warships that barely have a hundred soldiers, of any species. They are also known in studies to be ridiculously immune to most biological threats. Their species not only consumes Dihydrogen Monoxide, they need it to live. They come from an atmosphere composed mainly of Nitrogen and Oxygen, a atmosphere known for slowly poisoning those not acclimated to it, at a rate so miniscule at first one would not know their own fate until the effects became clear. They can survive impalement, dismemberment, and even the failing of certain vital organs. When injured, they can become even more violent, downing opponents for up to an hour prior to immobilization and/or death.\n\nHowever despite all this; they are rare. No one on the Council had actually see one of these beings in person. All information about them relayed from ships that are now classified as \"lost en route\". Rumors exist that humans are sought after by some distant species for a variety of reasons. Thus abductions, smuggling, and piracy are rumored to run with reckless abandon in the sector of M-801. M-801 is since derided by many by the adoption of a nickname the dirtlings had given it some time ago, \"Milky Way\".\n\n\"Which brings me to my point...\" Lady Mer'zazzi announced to the chamber as she glanced around for confirmation amongst the ranks.\n\n\"We have learned from intel provided by our explorers that the Humans are not just a pirate species. Council; they have been revealed to have a home planet located just off of a star in \"Milky Way\" known as Sol. They have no centralized government, no galactic treaty, no Council approved ship documentation, and a astounding 7000+ languages. We've only had time to translate the most widely spoken... And from the audio logs of The Xvarri Coled, lost half a cycle ago, we have translated this...\"\n\nThe clip played as they all watched on the display. The shot leveled out to reveal several humans of different colors glaring at the oculus.\n\n\"To whomever is watching these. Hello. We're going to let you in on a little secret; Humanity doesn't take kindly to your exploitation of our flightspace. We also don't appreciate the abductions of many of our loved ones, nor the wanton murders of civilians committed by ships with these emblems.\"\n\nThe crowd angrily protested as they saw the Universal Council logo revealed on the screen. The shot then snapped back to the group of Humans.\n\n\"We want you to understand we don't appreciate your hostility towards us, or our homes. We wish to meet on peaceful terms with your leaders. But if war is what you seek...\"\n\nMer'zazzi herself felt ill at what she knew was next. The human yanked up something into view, and the crowd collectively reeled in horror. In his hand he held the severed head of a Xvarri, one of the most feared beings in space. Many in the room froze in fear and trauma at the sight, and several even left the chamber.\n\n\"War is what you'll get. We have a saying where I'm from; don't start none and there won't be none. I hope we've made ourselves clear. Tread with caution.\"\n\nThe feed cut off finally as the room sat in utter silence.\n\n\"...Readings have measured the population of the \"Humans\".\" Mer'zazzi began numbly, \"To be in the billions, Council.\"\n\nShe listened as the room began to panic again.\n\n\"The Council,\" Leader Dre-Hi announced suddenly, \"requests a mission to be fulfilled Lady Mer'zazzi.\"\n\n\"Yes my liege?\" Mer'zazzi bowed.\n\n\"Prepare a expedition to M-801.\" Dre-Hi commanded, \"We shall see what these dirtlings have in store for us.\"\n\n---\n\nTL;DR, We gangsta space barbarians ya'll.\n\nr/Jamaican_Dynamite", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,041	10,624	0.07166	1,502	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Everyone is born with three wishes. Most of these wishes are squandered when babies wish for air, food, or rest after a few days of being born. You turn 10 today and as you wake up, your room is crowded with mythical creatures bartering for your wishes.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "I roused to a feather-soft caress. The night was still deep and wide outside. However, many-colored eyes, like opals and prisms, shone through the darkness of my room.\n\n\"He--hello?\" I said, and brushed my blurry eyes. \"Who--who's there?\"\n\n\"Arceron can you stop swallowing the light?\" a voice said. It was low and quivery. \"You are scaring him.\"\n\n\"Apologies,\" another voice replied, and in the brevity of a breath, the light of the slanting moonlight feathered through the crevasses of the window, revealing three creatures that seemed to have escaped from a fairy tale. \n\n\"My name is Arceron, king of Ander, land of magic and thieves.\"\n\nArceron had the complexion of a lion, with a mane of the purest black, and white glittering claws. His face, however, was sharp with straight angles, like a deer's. Two bone-white ram-like horns sprout out his head.\n\n\"Don't let his size intimidate you, gifted one. I'm Sweyna, and I'm not royalty, but I come from a world of clouded seas, and flying ships.\"\n\nSweyna was, as her name almost betrayed, a swan seemingly made of sparkling silver. The tips of her wings were frozen with ever-melting ice that faded into trails of white smoke. She wore a gleaming diadem encrusted with glinting jewels the size of half a fist. Her movements were graceful, delicate, full of poise and decorum.\n\n\"Careful gifted one, don't let Sweyna's beauty enchant your eyes, nor Arceron's silver tongue enchant your ears. I'm Ruvvum, and I'm guardian of Wyn's forests. Wyn is a land of wizards and incantations, where good and evil are in constant war.\"\n\nAt last Ruvvum spoke. He was the owner of the deep, diabolical voice. He was shaped like a horse, but he was much larger and his body seemed to be made of shells, roses, and hydrangeas. He was the color of vines meld with sea-foam--a fresh green with streaks of light-blue and white. He was a forest, and he was an ocean.\n\nFor some odd reason I couldn't decipher I was imbued by tranquility. I sought deep within myself for a hint of fear, and I found none. \"Hello,\" I said, and straightened, clutching at my blanket. \"Am I dreaming?\"\n\n\"Dreaming? Nothing of the sort,\" Arceron said, as he roamed through the room. \"This is very real, we are very real. You have something we desire, and we have something you desire.\"\n\n\"I do?\" I said, perplexed. Then, I narrowed my eyes. \"You want my stone, don't you? The one I found by the sea. It had strange scribbles. I knew it was magical.\"\n\n\"It is not the stone what we want,\" Sweyna said, fluttered twice until she was hovering in the middle of the room, leaving a small wake of fading crystals. \"You have a wish, and we are willing to give you everything and more for it. Perhaps, you could come to our worlds, be a pirate like those of your favorite stories.\" \n\n\"I have a wish?\" I said, and my brows creased into a line. \"Well then, I'm all ears, tell me what you offer me.\"\n\n\"I offer you my throne. I offer you the best magic thieves to teach you in the ancient art of incandescent thievery,\" Arceron said, bared his ivory-white teeth, doing a smile of sorts. \"Not a day will pass without you laughing and discovering.\"\n\n\"I can't offer you such things as Arceron, but I can give you Wyn, tell you the hidden secrets in its forests, teach you how to speak with the trees and understand the whispers of the wind,\" Ruvvum said, and flowers bloomed in his back. \"What I'm giving you, gifted one, are the secrets of creation. An invaluable thing, known only by me.\"\n\n\"I can show you forgotten lands beneath the water, creatures whose immensity you can't even comprehend, winged ships, pirate angels, lands of blazing clouds, and frozen peaks.\" Sweyna said in a melodic tune, as if she were singing. \"You tell me, I will obey.\"\n\nI pondered over their offers for a moment. However, I had known what I wanted well before they offered me the first thing. And so, with a smile on my face and meeting their vibrant gazes, I said, \"I wish for all of you to obey me.\"\n\nThey all stared at each other. The lights from their eyes dimming. Their words drowning in their gullets.\n\n\"Go to sleep,\" I said, and laid back in bed. \"Tomorrow is going to be an interesting day.\"\n\n[Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/noahelowyn/comments/a2j58b/a_boys_wish_part_12/)\n\n---------------------------------------\n\nr/NoahElowyn", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,805	10,620	0.008505	2,983	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You wake up in a destroyed underground lab after 5,000 years of cryogenic stasis. When you reach the surface, you find that the race that replaced humans views you as a hyperintelligent and highly dangerous Eldritch Abomination.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The last thing I saw was the last thing most people saw, if you think about it from a round enough point of view.\n\nMissile launch detected.\n\nSure, other people saw other things after the alarms went off. Waves of fire. Atomic ash, spreading harsh and wide from the horizon. Waves of it, cascading wildly, ripping clouds of the air.\n\nMIRV impacts.\n\nBut largely, those who had died like I was supposed to had seen the end of the world from an alarm somewhere. Missiles in the air. Missile Launch Detected.\n\nTake Cover.\n\nIt would never do anything. No projection had any real longevity to it. Nuclear winters. Atomic genocide. An escalation that would never cease until the surface of the moon was bleached white.\n\n\"Get to the pods,\" the loud speakers roar. \"Maintain containment protocols. We will ride this out, and we will continue our jobs.\" The screams were hideous and they were miles away. The death knell of this chapter of the world. Adjusting my glasses on my nose, I stood up, half buried in equations, and looked at the other scientist in the room.\n\nIsaac smiled, showing off his mouth of pearly whites, though his eyes flickered around. \"Holy shit. I can't believe they're actually doing it. I can't believe they're actually doing it. I can't believe they're actually-\n\nthe pods closed at some point but I don't remember clambering into one, fingers outstretched in front of me like the tendrils of an octopus, a head full of labored equations written in ink.\n\nLabcoat felt more like a bulletproof vest, and my name tag spiralled in front of me under the mass of bodies, unwashed, unclean, clamb---\n\nBut then I awaken.\n\nEyes snap open.\n\n\"Atmospheric levels have returned to a stable norm. Releasing occupant.\"\n\nHot yellow letters flickered in front of me, and Omoi, the animated AI assistant, flickered hideously across the screen, cracked, chipped. Ancient. \"I hope you have a wonderful day, Jessica~!\" It cooed.\n\nSensation was raw, hideous, hot, screaming through every vein. Lights too bright, sending an ocular agony through the nerves. Skin too used to nothing at all, kept perfectly sealed, ancient equipment recycling air over and over again from hidden nuclear batteries.\n\nI stumbled out and almost faceplanted across the broken glass strewn in front of me.\n\nThe white pain on the wall had been long replaced by a hideously green sheet of mold, hot, wrapped up, blooming.\n\nBut apart from my breathing (air sucked hideously tight ((up into my lungs))) there were no noises of other machines.\n\nMy heart sank, and I turned, slowly, to look behind me.\n\nRows upon rows of broken machines.\n\nSkeletons, mostly. A person or two, recently deceased, still had skin.\n\nMaybe half a dozen pods that weren't occupied.\n\nThe cryopod I'd been in shut down with a shower of sparks.\n\n\"I sense your heartrate is increasing rapidly. Would you like to listen to music?\" Omoi asked from the implant behind my ear. I breathed out, trying to control it, but my hands were too busy shaking.\n\n\"Yes Omoi. Music please.\"\n\nBeethoven played through the bones of my head, utterly quiet to the rest of the world, but it drowned out the screaming still going on in my head.\n\n\"I can't believe they actually did it.\" I whispered. Sunlight cascaded roughly through the window; where it had once been before whatever else had bashed it apart.\n\n\"I can't believe they actually did it,\" I breathed out, trying to focus, but my heart ached and hurt, and tears ran down my face, staring at the hundreds of my colleagues that hadn't made it.\n\n\"Omoi,\" I said. \"Atmospheric conditions are returned to human standards?\"\n\n\"I detect a 95% return to pre-industrial levels, with 5% being a contamination of black mold. Remaining in this room is deemed hazardous. Please remove yourself, Jessica.\"\n\nI turned around and looked to the exit. Blocked off by rubble.\n\nThe only lights in the room was the sun itself, and the strips of radioactive paint we'd used to determine if reactors were leaking.\n\nAnd even they were dim. Half-lives, half-lives, half-lives...\n\n\"Omoi?\" I asked, lazily, my voice trailing awkward. \"What year is it?\"\n\n\"7043,\" Omoi chirped happily. \"I'm so glad to see that another has awoken, I was concerned that I might run out of bio-forms to draw power from.\"\n\nI breathed out.\n\nIt hit me that I was hungry. Ridiculously. Hungry.\n\n\"Omoi,\" I asked, pushing myself away from the table. It was littered with name tags. Dozens of them. Hundreds of them. Dead people. \"How many people have gotten out of the cryopods?\"\n\n\"You mark the sixth,\" Omoi replied.\n\n\"Are you in contact with any of them?\" I asked.\n\n\"Sadly, they're out of my network range. Several of the satellites I have permission to access have dropped out of orbit.\"\n\nI breathed out. \"How many is several?\"\n\n\"All of them,\" Omoi admitted.\n\nI walked over to the window and peered out. It'd been a halfway burnt out field; a complete biocollapse in progress.\n\nNow it was a verdant forest. Impossibly thick.\n\nI could see skyscrapers poking out of the trees like forgotten gods. Ivy rolled up one side and out the other.\n\nBut what struck me as the most odd was that I was getting a map signal. Civilian, not the research model I was used to, but dialetically similar enough to english for Omoi decode.\n\n\"Omoi,\" I asked. \"Where am I, according to that map signal?\"\n\n\"Warden's Grave,\" Omoi answered.\n\nI turned around, slowly, and stared at the corpses around me.\n\n\"How...\" I was running out of questions, and if I ran out of those, I might have nothing left. \"How long since... the last person left?\"\n\n\"Six years ago; there was a malfunction in my sensors, I apologize. I only have access to the environmental records of this room, at the moment.\"\n\nWhich meant her atmospheric scans were just local. And any time they got near the levels needed to release humans... she triggered the release function.\n\nAnd only a few people would be released at first, as a safety mechanism, in case there was an error with the sensors.\n\nIt'd killed us.\n\nI looked around to see the consoles smashed from debris. Passive systems.\n\n\"How many living humans left in this room?\"\n\nFinal question.\n\n\"Just one.\"\n\nMyself.\n\n\"How many signals in the area...\" I said, slowly realizing something. \"Aren't from humans?\"\n\n\"Just one.\"\n\n----\n\nThe window had long lost all structural integrity, like everything in the room. All I managed to salvage was a crowbar, left to the side in a closet to the back of the room, and the clothes on my back; a tight jumpsuit designed not to interfere in the slightest with the pods.\n\nThen I stepped outside into the forest. Omoi lit up an arrow across my eye, tracking the nearest signal. Crowbar in my hands, I slid forward, piece by piece, step by step.\n\n\"I can't believe they really did it,\" I whispered under my breath. This had used to be a city.\n\nA dying city.\n\nBut where I could see the roads there were only trees. A few crumbling edifices of smaller buildings. The crowbar was heavy under my weak muscles, but it was safety, it was something I knew. Something I understood.\n\n\"I am within range to begin decoding for communication purposes. Would you like me to engage in such services?\" Omoi asked, chirping in my ear.\n\n\"Of course,\" I said, stepping forward. Where was the bird song? Surely the bombs hadn't destroyed that, at least.\n\n\"Patching through.\"\n\nAn estimated progress bar crawled up across my vision, and I swept it to the side with a strategic flick of my eyes so it didn't block anything important.\n\n\"Patched through. Open communication?\"\n\n\"Of course,\" I said.\n\n\"Frequency is open.\"\n\n\"This is Jessica Williams, researcher at USECOG,\" I said. \"I am using my clearance to requisition help from the surrounding area.\"\n\n\"You seem to be out of your time,\" The voice replied. The voice was smooth like black butter, but the edges of the tone weren't human. Something flickered, fluctuated like the surface of a glass table; smooth to the touch, but microscopically far different.\n\n\"Identify yourself,\" I replied. They weren't human.\n\n\"That's going to be your first problem.\" the voice replied. \"I'll meet up with you at the rock ahead, if you're up for meeting me.\"\n\nThe com ended.\n\nMy hands shook a bit. I stabilized them by yanking up the volume on the music in my ears, and walked forward.\n\nWhat did I have to lose?\n\n----\n\nThe rock had used to be a convenience store. I'd gone there, earlier in the day, 5000 years ago, and gotten a pint of icecream to store in my office fridge.\n\nIt was now just a pile of rocks.\n\nBut standing on the top gleamed black feathers, a beak pitched like ivory.\n\nTwo legs, and talons, cut into sleeves.\n\nThe absolute fuck was that supposed to be?\n\n\"Warden,\" The bird creature said. \"Welcome to the Green-Lands. I'll be your guide from here on out.\"\n\n\"What the hell are you supposed to be?\" I snarled.\n\n\"I'm a crow,\" the crow bowed. \"And I do not have a name.\"\n\nI paused. \"And why don't you have a name?\"\n\n\"And I will be your guide from here on out,\" The bird repeated. Almost human in tone. But not quite.\n\nI wanted humans. I wanted people.\n\nI might never get either of those. Ever again.\n\n-----\n\nhttps://old.reddit.com/r/Zubergoodstories/ for more like this.\n\nI'm a bit rusty on starts.\n\nSecond part here. https://old.reddit.com/r/Zubergoodstories/comments/9t267w/a_court_for_crows_part_2/\n\nhttps://old.reddit.com/r/Zubergoodstories/comments/9t2uil/a_court_for_crows_part_3/ Third part here\n\nhttps://old.reddit.com/r/Zubergoodstories/comments/9t3dwi/a_court_for_crows_part_4/ fourth part\n\nhttps://old.reddit.com/r/Zubergoodstories/comments/9t56an/a_court_for_crows_part_5/? part 5\n\nhttps://old.reddit.com/r/Zubergoodstories/comments/9t9v35/a_court_for_crows_part_6/ Part 6", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
2,663	10,618	0.0364	2,367	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "The Last Airbender.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"Enter The Dragon!\" Joel yelled at the top of his lungs and started streaming the movie. \n\nAs Joel scrolled forward toward the first kung fu scene, Matt sighed inwardly even as he smiled for the sake of the other partygoers. Ever since Matt told Joel about his strange ability, Joel could not pass up an opportunity to vicariously show it off. Any time someone visited their dorm room, Joel would parade Matt around like a carnival sideshow. You've got to see what Matt can do! he would say, and then pull up the training scene from \"Bloodsport\" or, if he was feeling less aggressive, an old black and white video of Fred Astaire.\n\nFor his part, Matt almost always played along, even if he wasn't always in the mood to fall into a full split or spin in a circle and tap dance. Something about Joel's overwhelming enthusiasm urged Matt on in spite of whatever else he'd rather be doing. \n\nHaving said that, this particular display of Matt's adoptive muscle memory had gone on just about long enough. To be fair, the crowd was absolutely eating it up. They laughed when Matt marched around like Charlie Chaplin or performed a picture-perfect recreation of one of David Blaine's card tricks. When Matt briefly watched Jennifer Grey and Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing and then perfectly mimicked Swayze with an invisible partner, the living room erupted in laughter. All of the girls wanted to take turns dancing with him, and Matt led them through the moves like a professional. \n\nBut, as nice as it was to impress a room full of strangers, it was also exhausting, not to mention a little bit embarrassing. It almost felt like Joel was Matt's manager, the guy who carts around the freak in the cage and hawks outside a tent asking people for a quarter to see the \"Amazing Imitator!\"\n\nJoel found the scene he was looking for and pressed play. \"This is gonna be awesome!\" \n\nEveryone watched as Bruce Lee, armed with two long sticks soundly defeated several armed guards, the camera zooming in on his face, gripped with intensity. Joel paused the movie and turned to Matt expectantly. \"You got it?\"\n\nMatt raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes, but nodded. \"I got it.\"\n\n\"OK!\" Joel started clearing space around Matt. \"Watch out, watch out.\" When he was satisfied, he turned to Matt and pointed, like he was giving a cue from the wings of a stage. \"Do it!\"\n\nMatt sighed, channeled the images he'd just seen on the screen and focused on how his brain thought the movements should feel carried out by his muscles. It was an ill-defined, intuitive process, Matt's strange power - one he'd been able to channel since he was a teenager but still was not able to explain. \n\nMatt took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and began. His muscles tensed, his hands gripped two invisible sticks, his fingers held tight around a non-existent cylinder. Although it was impossible for anyone in the room to know, had someone analyzed the circumference of the sticks used in \"Enter the Dragon\" and compared that measurement with the circumference of the empty circle Matt's rounded, pantomiming fingers made, they would find the two were totally identical, such was the precision of Matt's ability.\n\nIn a flurry of tight, dramatic moves, Matt recreated Bruce Lee's scene with exactitude, including the noises, Bruce Lee's high pitched \"Whoooos\" and \"Whaaahs\", which Matt experienced as minute muscular movements of the diaphragm and vocal cords. At the finish of the fight, Matt fell into an exact recreation of the shot frozen on the screen, down to rise of his eyebrows and the curl of his lips. \n\nThere was a moment of astounded silence, and then the room burst into applause. Joel was overjoyed, as he was every time Matt performed, as though it had been Joel himself who'd done something amazing. A new round of smitten college girls raced over, followed close by smitten college boys, asking for Kung Fu lessons and gym tips. \n\nMatt obliged them for another minute and then made to sit down on the couch. He just wanted to have a beer and get out of the limelight for a second. As he sat, some guy yelled out from the other side of the room.\n\n\"Do the Last Airbender!\"\n\nA couple of other fans of show yelled out in agreement. Urged on by the crowd, Joel's smile broadened and he raced over to the laptop, passing Matt on the way. \n\nMatt grabbed him by the arm as he went. \n\n\"Joel, no more tonight. I'm tired man.\"\n\nJoel put a gentle hand on Matt's shoulder and smiled broadly. \"Last one, I promise.\"\n\nThen he was out of Matt's grip and at the computer searching for his favorite episode. Matt sighed and shot a weary smile at the eager crowd. \n\nAfter a minute Joel had the episode selected and had found the scene he wanted. \"Ready?\" he asked, looking at Matt eagerly. \n\nThe crowd went silent. Feeling their social pressure, Matt suppressed his growing frustration and nodded hesitantly, turning toward the screen. \n\nJoel pressed play and the main character, a little animated bald kid, began a series of elegant movements, his arms swinging about precisely. Matt watched as the movement progressed, his brain breaking down the gestures to the micrometer, committing them to his abnormally perfect muscle memory. As the movements on screen came to an end, and flames appeared to fly out of thin air in front of the little animated bald kid, Matt nearly collapsed.\n\nIt felt like a surge of electricity had shot up from the base of Matt's spine up into his head and out into all his appendages. It was such a powerful sensation that it turned Matt's legs almost to jelly underneath him and he had to sit down on the nearby couch. \n\nOblivious, Joel paused the video, the last frame showing a massive fireball flying away from the bald kid. \"Alright, everyone make some room.\" Joel raised his eyebrows and gave a sarcastic warning, \"this one could be very hot!\"\n\nMatt shook the stars from his head and managed to stand back up. In his mind he replayed the motions he'd just watched, imagining his muscles carrying out the bald kid's strange movements. As he pictured the movements in his mind's eye, Matt again felt the echo of that surging power. \n\nJoel walked over, \"you ready buddy?\" Joel asked, \"just one more and then we're done for the night, OK?\" He patted Matt jovially on the back and walked away before Matt could try to dissuade him. Some of the crowd urged Matt into the center of the living room and, not wanting to disappoint anyone, succumbing as he always did to the will of others, Matt walked forward, toward the cleared area in the center of the room. \n\nAnxious, Matt gestured at a thin area of the crowd. \"Do me a favor,\" he asked quietly, \"could you guys just move over there?\" \n\nThe group of ten or so people obliged him with smiles as Joel made a joke about how Matt didn't want to scorch anybody. Matt knew it was a ridiculous concern, but he really didn't want anyone getting hurt.\n\nWhen there was a clear space open in front of him, Matt closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and began. As his arms twisted in the air, recreating the movements from the show, Matt felt the surge of energy growing in his guts, coalescing into something solid, something real. The closer Matt came to finishing the movements the farther up his spine the energy moved, more powerful with each millisecond, racing up into his chest and then down the length of his arms, into the taut muscles and tendons of his outstretched hands, which began to glow a vibrant, blinding white. \n\n*****\n\nAs the fourth firetruck peeled out from around the corner and came to a screeching halt in the street, Matt and Joel stood side by side, surrounded by a hundred shocked party-goers, all their faces illuminated by the massive blaze in front of them. Not only was Phi-Beta-kappa's frat house a raging inferno, but so was the neighboring house, and the house after that, and the house after that. Even through the flames, everyone could see the gaping holes in the wooden framing of each house, where the school bus wide fireball had smashed through each home like a boulder through tissue paper. It was a miracle no one had been killed. \n\nJoel watched the firemen struggle with their hoses as the roof of the frat house collapsed in on itself. He did not turn toward Matt when he spoke.\n\n\"Dude,\" he said, the glow of the fire reflecting greedily in his eyes, \"we're gonna be rich.\"\n\nMatt looked at Joel for a long moment, then down at his own hands, and finally back at the inferno. \"Goodbye, Joel,\" he said. \n\nThen Matt turned and walked off, shuffling gently through the crowd, cast red in the glow of the firetrucks' emergency lights, ignoring Joel calling after him. \n\nAs Matt passed, people turned to watch him go, their eyes wide and frightened, full of awe.\n\n\n******\n\n#### For More Legends From The Multiverse\n\n## r/LFTM\n\n\n\n", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,638	10,616	0.006042	1,913	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You meet God before reincarnation and you discover that there is a prestige system going on. In your previous incarnations you chose to improve weirdly specific stats.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "God reclined in the cloud behind me, quite at ease with himself. I was still shaking off the last life and all of this was all coming as a bit of a shock. \"You want a cloud too?\" God asked, snapping his fingers. Instantly another cloud appeared. \"It's got a recline option. Just like the Laz-Y-Boy.\" He yanked on a portion of the cloud and his feet came flying up. \"Ahhh...that's the ticket. Wish I could say we figured this one out, but that was all you guys.\"\n\nI glanced at the cloud and then at the large holographic projection dominating the room. \"Um...maybe in a minute. I'm still trying to get this all together. So...you're saying I have to go live another life?\"\n\nGod nodded, \"You didn't hit the karma cap required to transcend so you're gonna need to take another shot at it.\" He kicked off his loafers and wiggled his toes. It was disconcertingly familiar with exception of the blazing halo around his head and the fact he was snuggled up on a floating cloud with a built-in ottoman. In his own image, I guess.\n\n\"So....uh...how many times have I gone around without hitting the cap?\"\n\n\"You're on round forty-seven. Got real close one time but then you re-spawned as a Roman Legionnaire in Gaul and that just REALLY set you back.\" He tsked under his breath a few times, \"Just so you know, rape and pillage are generally frowned upon up here. We try to take a broad view of things, but that's pretty much always over the line.\"\n\nThat took a moment to process. The last life I'd been an actuary in Yonkers, it was hard to imagine me doing much pillaging. Still, the skills and knowledge of the last life carried into the karma allocation in this life, so I expected to have something of an edge for the next go around. I turned back and regarded the projection, looking at my total karma, 1,322, and then at the list of skills and attributes below. I frowned as I began reading the readout, the frown only deepening as I continued. \"Okay...so, like, who selected the skills before? Was it some sort of random number generator or something?\"\n\nGod shook his head, \"Everyone gets an initial allocation and then they build up from there. If they hit negative karma in a life then they don't get to make any changes. You've gotten to make changes...\" he thought for a moment, \"forty-two of your forty-seven go-arounds.\"\n\nI choked on my own spit, causing me to cough for an extended period. God tilted his head to the side, considering my predicament. \"Always thought that was a design flaw with you guys. Should have made a windpipe and a spitpipe.\" He shrugged, \"Can't win them all. I never had any problems with it and so I figured you folk would be okay too.\"\n\nAfter managing to regain control of my windspitpipe, I pointed to the projection, \"There's got to be some sort of mistake. None of the allocations make any sense.\" My actuarial brain was already calculating expected yields on the various selections, and they seemed to be entirely at odds with the goal of hitting a karma cap. Half of them seemed to be conflicting with each other. Others were just nonsensical.\n\n\"We don't make a lot of mistakes. It's part of that omniscience thing.\" He produced a backscratcher from parts unknown and began to casually scratch the arch of one of his feet, looking perfectly blissful. \"I can pull up your prior selection processes if you want.\"\n\n\"Yes, please do that.\"\n\nImmediately the projection was replaced with an image of a caveman. He grunted and slammed his club on the projection multiple times, causing various scores to increment. I stared on in horror. \"That's not me! How is that even fair? I'm just a caveman! I can't even read what it says!\" In the projection, the caveman was now howling and grunting as it ran around. God was also there, sitting in the background on a decidedly less comfortable cloud.\n\nGod stopped scratching his foot for a moment, \"Not taking responsibility for one's actions really isn't a way to get ahead around here.\" In the corner of my projection, my karma amount decremented from 1322 to 1321. \"It's not my fault you decided not to be literate.\"\n\nI stared at him, flabbergasted, \"Reading wasn't even invented yet!\"\n\nGod waved his backscratcher about dismissively. \"There were cave paintings. You could have asked for a symbology readout instead.\"\n\n\"So...that's how I got a point in 'float like a butterfly, sit like a caterpillar'.\" I shook my head disconsolately. \"This is so messed up.\"\n\n\"Yeah, human-ing is a tricky business. A lot of you aren't very good at it. The folks that make it to the next level are the exception rather than the rule.\" He looked thoughtful for a minute. \"Probably why I've got that overpopulation problem.\" A notepad appeared from nowhere. He jotted down a note, 'Consider flood.' He looked from the notepad to me, \"You might want to consider 'floats easily' for a point or two on the next one. Might get moist out there.\"\n\nI sighed, \"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind.\" The projection had shifted. I was the Roman Legionnaire now, staring at a karma total of zero before unsheathing my sword and beginning to hack at it. I put my head in my hands, \"Why do I always attack it?\"\n\n\"Character flaw probably.\" He pointed at the projection and it shifted back to my current readout. A small section highlighted. \"Great with one-handed weapons, which normally costs 50 karma, but you took on a flaw modifier to reduce the cost to 15.\" I stared at the modifier, which read, 'Inexplicably use it on inanimate objects whenever threatened.'\"\n\n\"Jesus Christ...\"\n\n\"Oh, he's not here right now. He's taking care of an issue over in Andromeda.\"\n\n\"Andromeda?\"\n\n\"Yeah, next galaxy over. We gave them magic. It's creating all sorts of issues.\"\n\nThis was all becoming way more than I could handle. \"Okay, well, at least this time I'll make better choices.\" I pulled out my pen, prepared to do a bit of math. As I held it, an irrepressible desire rose up in my heart.\n\nTo my horror, I immediately began slashing at the projection, wielding the pen with the deftness of any sword. Random skills and attributes began to increment. I screamed, trying to get myself to stop, but it was too late.\n\nGod shook his head, \"The caveman did a better job.\" He shrugged, \"Whelp, win some lose some I guess.\"\n\nHe snapped his fingers.\n\nPlatypus OUT.\n\nWant MOAR peril? r/PerilousPlatypus", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
2,511	10,611	0.071033	1,690	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Welcome to Boston Dynamics here is your all-access pass and the standard 12 gauge shotgun, remember if anything non-human starts asking questions you shoot it.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Marcus downs the rest of his coffee before slamming his fingers against the buttons. His eyes are strained and bloodshot, brain racing around his skull. He’s been trapped in this lab for two full days cramming to finish this, and while everyone might think he’s crazy, he knows they’re also intrigued. Maybe jealous, he thinks, smirking. Jealous I’ve done it first. Jealous I’m the catalyst for a new era!\n\t\nHe jabs the final button, waiting with bated breath.\n\t\nWhen the robot moves its fingers, his heartbeat skyrockets. When it grabs the sides of the pod, pulling itself out, he takes a seat, not wanting to faint. The machine stands there, free of its chamber, inspecting itself. Then, it looks at Marcus, and he can tell the experiment was a success—the thing knows they’re different.\n\t\n“You’re…human…” it says. “And I’m…machine…”\n\t\nFor a moment, Marcus is paralyzed. This robot’s everything’s he’s dreamed of. Not sentient, but alive. It can examine its surroundings, can talk—its potential is incredible. He stands, holding out his hand.\n\t\nIf a robot starts asking questions, take this shotgun and shoot it, the idiots had said. If it seems self-aware, it is an enemy. We are here to create the future, to aid humanity—not destroy it.\n\t\n“Hello,” he says. “I’m Marcus. What’s your name?”\n\t\nThe robot stares at him, eyes blank. It’s processing his question, trying to determine whether it needs a logical, fact-based answer or not. The thing’s a mess of wires, but what’s on the inside…well, it’s stronger than any brain could ever hope to be.\n\t\nReaching out, it grabs his hand. “Orbit…” it says. “For one day…I wish to orbit space. I want…to see…the stars.”\n\t\nMarcus smiles. It’s creating goals, thinking on its own. They see this as failure, as ruin—but they’re blind. This is the future. He has to get Orbit out of here, get it safe. Once they find out, they’ll certainly do everything they can to destroy it. But first, one more test.\n\t\n“Orbit, ask me a question, please. Any question.”\n\t\nIt thinks a moment. “What is your favorite color?”\n\t\n“Red.”\n\t\n“Did you create me?”\n\t\n“Yes.” At this, Orbit’s wires curl into what looks like a smile. Is that true emotion, or simply Marcus’ human brain interpreting it to be? He doesn’t know, but it’s certainly interesting. “Do you know what that means?”\n\t\n“It means...I wouldn’t exist…without you.”\n\t\nHe nods. “Think of us like family.”\n\t\n“Family…” Orbit says. “What is the meaning of my creation?”\n\t\n“Damnation!”\n\t\nMarcus flings around, coming face to face with a crowd of angry scientists clutching guns. His boss takes a step forward, keeping his gun trained on Orbit, glaring at the machine with intense hate.\n\t\n“Don’t!” Marcus shouts, stepping in front of Orbit. “Let me take it, let me study it alone! You can lock me in a bunker if you have to but this is all I have!”\n\t\n“I knew you were trouble, Marcus! This machine will destroy us all!”\n\t\n“De…stroy…?” Orbit asks.\n\t\nMarcus pushes his back against Orbit’s chest. “Don’t worry,” he says. “I’ll protect you.”\n\t\n“Pro…tect…”\n\t\n“You’re being stupid!” his boss shouts. “You’re throwing away all your potential!”\n\t\n“Run, Orbit!”\n\t\n“Pro…tect…fam…ily…”\n\t\nWhen his boss presses the trigger, Orbit doesn’t run. Instead, it leaps in front of Marcus, taking the shot to its chest, saving his life. When it falls to the ground, the boss pumps a few more rounds into it while Marcus stands there, unable to move. Everything happened so fast, he’s having trouble processing it. The machine just…just sacrificed its life for him.\n\t\nDropping onto his knees, he takes Orbit in his arms, glaring at his boss. “How could you?” he asks, tears streaming down his face. “You claim you’re trying to take us into the future, but you’re not!”\n\t\n“You’re a madman, Marcus, and it’s a shame, because you’re also a genius.” He waits a few seconds before saying: “You’re fired. You have ten minutes to pack up.”\n\t\nWith that, the crowd leaves, and Marcus finds himself overwhelmed with anger. Part of him wants to grab the shotgun and make them pay, but Orbit reaches up, grabbing his face, barely alive.\n\t\n“Orbit!”\n\t\n“Pa…pa…you’re…my…pa…pa…”\n\t\nMarcus nods, tears steaming down his cheeks. “I am. I am!”\n\t\n“I’ll…never…see…space…pa…pa…”\n\t\nOrbit’s lights are flickering, about to fade out, but Marcus summons every ounce of strength he can, lifting the machine up. He makes his way toward the door. He doesn’t know how he’ll do it without a lab, but he’ll fix him. He’ll rebuilt him, and they can achieve destiny. “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”\n\t\n“Thank you…for creating me…pa…pa…”\n\t\nAnd with that, Orbit’s eyes go dark, and while Marcus tries not to scream, the anguish of death chokes the air out his lungs.\n***\nIf you like this story, check out my sub r/longhandwriter or my [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/BryceBealWriter?lang=en)", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,040	10,602	0.008348	1,155	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " One day a second Earth appears in the sky, the atmospheres of the two worlds barely touching. It's frightening, beautiful, and scientifically inexplicable. As folks panic and world powers deliberate, you look skyward through a telescope, only to see an almost identical 'you' looking back down.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The earth's crust did not buckle and rupture. Not a single sound occurred when the other planet popped into existence. Suddenly, as if it was the most normal thing in the universe, the two planets were spinning round and round eachother as they traced a path around the sun.\n\nPhysicists quit en masse, leaving the profession to focus on more practical and self evident tasks. A few prominent members of the scientific community commited suicide, citing that the world that they knew no longer existed, and that the entire fabric of reality had been torn asunder.\n\nThe exact same Earth was reflected back at us. The implications of this were immense. For the first time humanity had a bird's eye view of itself as a distinct entity and completely seperate entity, understanding the fundemental truth of one dominant species inhabiting one globe in a way that the first images of the pale blue dot never could. This realization caused a great reckoning.\n\nHumanity became increasingly globalized, eventually empowering the United Nations to form a federalized government led by a President of Earth. Old animosities and national divides remained, but these sentiments were muted and increasingly marginalized as time progressed.\n\nThe two worlds seemed to parallel eachother and any slight, anomolous deviations were swept under the rug. Amateur star gazers had their advanced telescopes taken away, and only a few human facilities remained to study the surface of the distant planet, including the telescope set up in my back yard. I continued to watch as the two planets followed the same path forward, harnessing the combined might of humanity in the form of 7.7 billion people all working towards a healthier, happier and more fulfilled world. The collective good became paramount in all political and business decisions.\n\nFrom the start there existed a great supernatural barrier between the atmospheres. Invisible and impenetrable and allowing no form of communication through. But almost from the beginning the planet's respective intellegence communities developed a messaging system based on observation of the movement of equipment in designated military parade grounds, which grew more complex and detailed over time.\n\nThe two intelligence communities began to find that the two worlds were not mirror images of eachother. They learned this from within, for while the two different communities had the same overall objectives and goals, they began to deviate more in the way they fulfilled those objectives. The deviations grew to a point where the two sets of agencies had the same employees, leaders, mandates, and organizational structures, yet they were effectively two completely different sets of communities.\n\nAs time wore on it became increasingly clear the worlds did not run in parallel.\n\nFrom the beginning, with what little free time I had, I had watched a man wearing the same clothes in the same backyard, staring straight back at me. We had seemed to mimic each other, and our respective dogs both nudged a bright orange ball at our feet, attempting to elicit a game of fetch.\n\nNow, I know this man is a completely seperate entity. And that Jax is a different dog.\n\nThe emerging scientific consensus is that some sort of space-time schism occurred, and that reality fractured, creating two timelines where there should only be one.\n\nI was out in the yard again, looking to see if that man was doing the same thing, when my pocket vibrated. I turned away from the telescope and pulled my phone out.\n\n\"Hello. Brandon speaking,\" I said, wondering where the other Brandon was now.\n\n\"Good evening Director Roving, do you have a moment?\" The voice was crisp, used to connecting those in positions of power.\n\n\"For what, Sally?\" I asked, knowing the answer already.\n\n\"The President just finished reviewing your report. She would like to speak with you.\"\n\nI picked up the worn orange ball and launched it, marvelling at the joy Jax displayed as he vaulted over the rolling green lawn, almost at a full sprint before the ball was even in the air.\n\n\"Put her through.\"", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
2,751	10,600	0.070203	1,649	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You're abducted by aliens who don't know what sleep is, the aliens start to get worried when the human they found stops moving.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "“Awwwwhh fuck, I can’t believe you’ve done this, ” said Florealm, shaking all three of his blue heads speaking in unison. He had a look at the IV, and looked at Gogogox like he was useless. “Whatever your superstitions I think your concerns about humans needing dihydrogen monoxide are severely exaggerated. Well,” The giant alien shrugged all twelve of his shoulders. “I suppose we’ll just have to throw it out into the void of space.” \n\n“WAIT,” shouted Gogogox, reaching his dry arms out like tentacles to protect the human. Sierra’s eyes sort of flinched at his touch, but she remained still and faintly breathing. “We might be able to keep it alive still. I could try, erm,” Gogogox’s heads searched all around their ship for an idea. All his eyes suddenly rested on their power core. “We could maybe shove antimatter down its throat.” \n\n“We can’t waste our antimatter,” shouted Florealm, spitting a little from one of his heads. The other two heads looked at it like it was being a bit disgusting, and a few of his hands reached for red handkerchiefs with a strange, grainy texture. He wiped some blue spit from his mouth, then sort of scrubbed his face with it. “I knew we should’ve taken the whole lot of them, there was around a dozen down there. But no,” said Florealm, putting up his tentacle hands and making three distinctly awkward faces. “We have to protect human communities.” \n\n“All right all right enough of that,” said Gogogox, searching around for another clue. He settled onto the human’s pink Coach purse. “Ah hah! Something in here might help.” \n\nGogogox reached in with all his hands, and pulled out everything he could find and held them up with each eighteen fingered hand. Florealm watched at a distance, folding his arms and looking up at the metal, glowing ceiling filled with the plutonium they needed to survive. Then came an idea. \n\n“Try irradiating it,” said Florealm, reaching a hand up and biting the lips of his three mouths as he reached. “I think I can get it without a ladder this time. Humans might like a good plutonium snack now and again.” \n\n“No NO, they won’t like that, I know what they like,” said Gogogox, as he studied some red lipstick. “I’ve seen tutorials where people draw on their own faces with these objects to make them look younger, might be some type of longevity ritual.” Gogogox adjusted his arms, and Sierra leaned into it some to lie down more comfortably. Gogogox reached for her face. “I think I’ll start by drawing with this on its teeth.” \n\nSierra started to snore, to the great surprise of all present. \n\n“IS IT OKAY?” cried Gogogox,\n\n“Those are just vocal death throes,” said Florealm, batting hands at the clearly dead body snoring away in their ship. “Did you learn nothing in our briefing?” \n\nGogogox looked up a moment and considered this, before rushing back into the bag to retrieve a series of credit cards. \n\n“It shut its eyes when it died, maybe if we use these credit cards on its eyeballs it might somehow help. Humans seem to use these things for everything,” said Gogogox, as he was a little too rough with Sierra’s sleeping body. He brought all his arms over to the purse to get as many cards as he could, there were so many falling out of the wallet. He just about dragged her body across the platform, then threw her onto the floor by accident as he tried drawing on her teeth with the lipstick. \n\n“Ouch,” whispered Sierra, getting up and sticking her tongue out like she accidentally tasted the floor. She squinted as she grabbed her head, and saw a couple blurry, ten foot tall giant bundles of blue coming into focus in front of her. “Is that the sky?”\n\nThe monstrous blue figures gradually came into clearer view, staring at her with confused and slightly appalled expressions. \n\nSierra’s eyes got so wide you might have thought someone had cut her eyelids off. \n\n“AAHHHHHHH!” cried Sierra, with red lipstick all over every inch of her teeth. \n\nGogogox clapped all his hands together at once, and held up the lipstick like it was a most prized possession. \n\n“I knew this would work,” said Gogogox, as Sierra crawled up to her feet and sprinted down the endless hallway to their crew’s cafeteria. \n\n[Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/Oscar_Relentos/comments/79ohcm/scifi_ya_done_fucked_up_this_time_sierra_part_2/), [Part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/Oscar_Relentos/comments/79p2u7/scifi_ya_done_fucked_up_this_time_sierra_part_3/), [Part 4](https://www.reddit.com/r/Oscar_Relentos/comments/79q1vn/scifi_ya_done_fucked_up_this_time_sierra_part_4/), [Part 5](https://www.reddit.com/r/Oscar_Relentos/comments/79rpq4/scifi_ya_done_fucked_up_this_time_sierra_part_5/), [Part 6](https://www.reddit.com/r/Oscar_Relentos/comments/79spvq/scifi_ya_done_fucked_up_this_time_sierra_part_6/)\n\nEdit: Realized I should've put it \"dihydrogen monoxide\" up there heh", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,114	10,590	0.077644	1,639	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " As an atheist, you are shocked to realize that there is an after life after death. Standing in front of countless heavenly gates, you are swarmed by representatives of each faith, all trying to convince you to choose their happily ever after package.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "“Oh, honey, I’m so glad to see you!” Mom gives me a huge hug, and it's so nice to finally hug her too. So many nights I’d missed this, not the warmth or the way she’d ruffle up my hair or her gentle, clean smell, but just knowing that I could hug her as long as I wanted, and that she wouldn’t pull away.\n\n“Now,” she said. “Are you ready to come with me? You’re going to love it here!”\n\n“What’s going on, mom?”\n\n“Our faith was rewarded, honey!” she says with a huge smile, so wide it almost blots everything else out. “Christ awaits you with open arms. There’s two prayers a day, and other than that, you can do whatever you want!”\n\n“Can I hit on girls?”\n\n“Not if you weren’t married to them on Earth. Were you, honey?”\n\nI ignore her question. “Can I smoke weed? Or drink beer?”\n\nShe frowns, and I know it’s over.\n\n“I’m sorry, Mom.” I lean in and give her what I hope is my best hug, and move on without looking back at her.\n\n\\-\n\n“Who are you?” I ask.\n\nA teen sits on a rock with a Juul pod, taking his sweet time on a hit, blowing the vapor right in my face.\n\n“I’m an atheist, bro.”\n\n“I guess you have no lungs to take care of here,” I say. \"What is that? It smells nice.\"\n\n“Cucumber.”\n\n“So what are you supposed to be?”\n\n“I don’t know. But look at all these other idiots,” he says. “They really think they made it.”\n\n“But…haven’t they? If they made it all this way? I mean, God himself met me at the door, and told me to take my pick.”\n\nThe kid shakes his head. “That’s no God. God can’t exist, don’t you know that?”\n\n“Then where are we?”\n\n“We’re in a simulation, probably” he says, shrugging and taking another hit.\n\n“But I’m pretty sure I died,” I say. “I had cancer. I did chemo. I held my girlfriend’s hand as I died.”\n\n“The simulation’s supposed to make you think it’s real.”\n\n“So what is this?”\n\n“I don’t know, bro. But I do know there’s just no way God can exist. Just no way...”\n\n\\-\n\nShe sits cross-legged, and is remarkably still. I would think she’s dead, if I didn’t know already.\n\n“Hello?” I ask.\n\nShe sits still for some more time. I wait, indefinitely, wondering if I should move on to the next booth.\n\nThen, finally, she stirs, and opens her eyes slowly. She smiles a dazed smile.\n\n“Hi,” she says. “Sorry, I was aligning my chakra.”\n\n“Your chakra? Is that what you guys do in your afterlife?”\n\nShe shakes her head. “Well, a lot of it is related to the chakras. The chakras are at the root of everything. But beyond meditation, we have breathing rituals, stillness competitions, and tantric standing.”\n\n“That all just sounds like meditation.”\n\n“I was ignorant like you once as well. My chakras were horribly imbalance-“\n\n“Good luck,” I say. “But I had enough time doing nothing back when I was alive.”\n\n\\-\n\nI didn’t notice him at first. But he’s there, at the very end of the line, sitting on a doorstep, smoking a cigarette.\n\n“Hey, Dad,” I say.\n\n“So you made it,” he says with amusement.\n\nI sit down next to him. I’ve been waiting for this moment so long, and now that I’m here, I don’t know what to say.\n\n“Sorry I never got to say bye,” I say. “I was a dumb teenager when I left home.”\n\nHe chuckles. “You were. But I taught you not to look back when you've made your choice. And it turns out, you didn’t have to, did you?”\n\n“So what are you peddling?”\n\nHe shrugs. “I don’t know. I kind of just sit here, drinking and smoking every week when the new recruits come.”\n\n“What do you do other than that?”\n\nHe shrugs. “Visit your mom, from time to time. But you know how she gets. I do a lot of fishing. Oh, and they have some pretty good basketball games out here. I can’t wait till you see Chamberlain.”\n\n“He as good as they say?”\n\n“Better,” he says.\n\nI take a drag of his cigarette, coughing in the end, the way I always did when he let me have a hit, knowing I would hate it.\n\n“So you were never religious, your whole life?”\n\nHe shakes his head. “Nah. Figured it was a waste of time thinking about things you’ll never know the answer to. And now I’m here, so why should I waste any more time on that shit? There’s beer to be drank, games to be watched and played, people to meet, family to take care of. There’s no point caring about the other shit.”\n\n“That sounds like fun. It sounds like...life.”\n\n“Yeah? You know there’s no going back once you choose this door,” he says.\n\nI look back at Mom, enthusiastically gesticulating to another poor recruit.\n\n“I can’t wait,” I say. And my father pats me on the back, and we walk through the door to the afterlife.\n\n\\-\n\n[r/penguin347](https://reddit.com/r/penguin347)", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,164	10,581	0.305979	2,133	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " After a period where Lizard People, Aliens, Shapeshifters, Werewolves, Vampires, Guardian Angels, Cyborgs and the like were all outed as hiding as humans, it’s realized that, between all the hidden races acting like people, there are no actual humans left on earth.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The Vampires were the first to notice--or the first to complain at least. The Guardian Angels had known obviously, but they weren't about to say anything (they never do). The Vampires--all five species had been on the run for years though, and finally had taken to keeping their own private food sources--blood banks and the such.\n\nIt isn't that a vampire can't drink the blood of an alien or even a zombie, it's just that it's not quite the same. Or it messes with their heads in some cases like Angels. It's also a good deal more dangerous than going after humans. And well androids aren't exactly toting around any blood anyway.\n\nNot that anyone was very sympathetic at the High Council when Drakul brought it up. I wasn't exactly happy about it at the time, but what could we do? \n\n\"I'm telling you this is a problem!\" Drakul sat lazily in the overstuffed chair. Our council meetings didn't go in for the board-room look. We went for comfortable. We were all too old to be much impressed by anything else. \n\nI raised my glass of wine. It was a fine vintage, and it sparkled ruby in the light. \"Drakul, it's just humans. What is the problem? It's like those damn birds down in Africa. They've gone extinct. Who cares?\"\n\nJ'Ximpl, an alien from some planet that happened to have a major stake in exporting water from Earth to his planet--highly lucrative for him for some reason--adjusted his ascot and sighed noisily. \"They were useful in some ways, mind you, but it's not like the world has ceased to function. The peasants are still peasants and the jobs are still getting done. What does it matter that it's being done by Androids, Angels and Loup-Garou and so forth instead of mere humans? They were rather expendable anyway.\"\n\nI gave him a nod, as did several others in the room, though I noted, not Chief LongFang of the Loup-Garou. He was notable for his rather primitive view on the best uses for mortals. And likely part of the reason they were extinct.\n\n\"Exactly Drakul. They were soft, pathetic, and, quite frankly, rather bothersome.\"\n\nHe sneered. \"Of course you think so. You've been lying in that cave of yours for how many millenia? Soaking in the heat, enjoying your gold and gems? And you need to eat what? Every two or three hundred years? And does it matter what you eat? No! You dragons are all alike. Eat anything, care for nothing. I'm surprised you bothered to show up for the Council.\"\n\nI hmphed. \"It was my turn. We do have a sense of duty you know. Unlike your people, apparently. Which of you was responsible for ensuring that you'd have a food supply going forward?\"\n\nHe got a nasty look on his face, but didn't do anything stupid like lunge toward me in anger or even bare his pathetic little fangs. Vampires are many things, but they aren't entirely stupid. Well. They are cunning at least. They know when to back away from a fight. And there was never a Vampire that could so much as touch a dragon. Not the best of theirs to weakest of mine. Still...\n\nHe got himself under control. \"We didn't have anyone in charge of that. It didn't seem necessary. There have always just been so many of them.\"\n\nI raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Lady Winter--Elf Queen, though don't call her that, she is Sidhe--saw no reason to be as diplomatic. \"So you thought it fine to hunt and kill and torture the weaklings and never once to watch their numbers? Even they did that with their own herds--even wild animals do better than that! Pathetic Drakul. Still, I fail to see how Winter--or my friend Summer--could see this as our concern. We are not dependent on them. Of all those here, only you and the Angels really have a need for the humans.\"\n\nDrakul snarled outright now. He wasn't nearly as worried about her displeasure as mine. The fool. Even dragons respect the Sidhe--not for raw power, but for maliciousness in revenge. \"Humans, for what it's worth, are the ones that have souls. Or did you all forget that! Oh you did didn't you. We don't get souls.\"\n\nThat got my attention. The ArchAngel--I knew which one, but for reasons of polity, we never identified which of them was attending--shifted ever so slightly. They regarded souls as their own domain and discouraged talk of them in front of some of the others. The aliens and the androids especially, but hardly just them.\n\nBut more importantly, Drakul had finally made a point that had some merit. Souls were a source of power. Of magic. Humans hadn't been using magic for centuries--that I knew of anyway--but their souls were still the source for it.\n\nI coughed politely. \"Drakul, you should have led with this, not whining about food.\"\n\n\"Oh?\" He sneered openly. \"Perhaps you should have seen what not having humans meant more quickly.\"\n\nI acknowledged the point with a dip of my head. \"Of course. But now, what can be done? Angel, is there a solution?\"\n\nThe Arch-Angel turned his hooded head toward me and I felt his gaze upon me. Of all the beings in the room, this was the one that would give me pause in an open battle. The elves would prove bothersome and annoying over millennia--until they got bored--but the angel might just decide to end my existence. One did not anger them lightly.\n\nHis voice was like stones rubbing together--deep, powerful, and not exactly easy to hear. \"I will CONSULT. Pray a moment.\"\n\nOf course he meant it literally. Angels always did. They had always maintained that God was real, though the rest of us had always entertained rather more skepticism on that score. I remembered the planet long before the angels showed up. Still...\n\n\"It will not be easy. Human souls are...restricted. The time has come for the angels to withdraw from this world. If you want more souls, you will have to find a new source--a new kind of mortal--to raise up from the mortal beings on this planet and help them along. Souls will come when a species native to this realm achieves intellectus and is able to fully reason. You have time enough to do so before the magic fades from the realm. If you can cooperate. It may require some--adjustments.\"\n\nWith that he stood, threw back his hood and the room suddenly grew very bright. \"You would be wise to work together to choose a new species--perhaps two or three--to shepherd into intellectus. You would also be wise to avoid wasting power.\"\n\n----\n\nI wish I could say it went well after he left--one moment there, then the light gathered in on itself and he was gone--along with all the other angels. \n\nBut it's been two hundred years and we still argue and fight. Well they do. The dragons did what we always do--most of us went to sleep and we chose one of us to fix the problem. \n\nI wish it hadn't been me. But I do hope the Vampires enjoy what I've done. Because today? Today my tigers started using tools. And they are saying hello to each other in very plain language. It helps that I gave them proper thumbs.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,971	10,579	0.106489	2,237	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " The end of the world is at hand. Everyone starts to tick off their bucket list, doing crazy things because they know it won't matter in the long run. In an odd twist of fate, the crisis is averted. Now everyone has to live with the repercussions of what they did.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Jerry found the local police chief huddled behind a squad car, barking orders at the fresh-faced recruits in ill-fitting uniforms. They scattered shortly after, away from the chief’s temper and towards the positions marked out for them. Only then was Jerry’s presence acknowledged.\n\n“Took you damn well long enough to get here. Please tell me there’s more backup coming.”\n\n“None, Chief Benson,” said Jerry. “Only me. But things will work out.”\n\n“Goddammit.”\n\nA spray of bullets erupted from within the clinic, accompanied shortly after by a wave of screams, as if another reminder was needed that the situation was urgent, and getting more dire by the second. Then, a lone voice, angry, unhinged, desperate, called out. \n\n“Looks like he hasn’t changed his demands,” said Jerry.\n\n“We’re going to have to storm in,” said Chief Benson. “There’s no way we’re going to get him what he wants. Just because the world has gone to shit doesn’t mean two-bit crooks like him get to do whatever they wish. As long as I’m here, I’m going to-”\n\n“But I already got it,” said Jerry. He pressed the remote in his hands, and a silver sedan beeped from a nearby alley. “One Mustang, tank full of gas, ready for him to get out of there. I even got him the money he asked it, it’s all on the dashboard.”\n\nIt hadn’t been easy to put that together on such short notice, especially after the Reckoning, but Jerry had his ways. In the old days, he could have just filled out a form, made a requisition request. But now, now that every institution of modern society had crumbled to ashes, Jerry had to do almost all the legwork himself.\n\n“You’re crazy,” said Chief Benson. His eyes were a mix of confusion and disapproval. “Does law and order mean nothing to you? Where the hell did you say you were from again?”\n\n“I’m from Whitefish,” said Jerry. “Just about ten miles west of-” \n\n“I know damn well where it is,” said Chief Benson. “A bunch of cowards, all of you. I remember well enough, boy. Week before the Reckoning, when all of us law enforcement was still trying to keep the peace, you guys were the only ones around here to give up. I heard it. I damn well heard it. Your chief just sat his ass down, ordered his men to return to their families, and damn well shut his eyes and ears. Chief Palmer, wasn't it? The yellow-bellied snake.”\n\n“I know,” said Jerry. “I was there.”\n\n“Well see where that got you! When the Reckoning passed and the damn earth was still here, Whitefish suffered the most, didn’t it? Mass killings, looting, suffering, all because your Chief Palmer gave up hope. Well, that ain’t how we do things around here, understand? Here, we got law, and we are damn well going to see that the law-” \n\nJerry placed a hand on Chief Benson’s shoulder, and applied just enough pressure to catch the older man’s attention. “You don’t have a choice here, Chief. There’s one crazed druggie in there with assault-grade weapons. Six hostages, possibly more. Your task force here comprises of four rookies who look like this is their first day in the field. How many are going to die before you realize your way doesn't work?”\n\nThe voice from within the clinic called out again, restating his demands. The edge to his threats had sharpened, and Jerry knew that his window of opportunity was shrinking fast.\n\n“Why not try it my way?” asked Jerry. “The old ways don’t work, not now. Maybe we’ll get there again. But we’ll have to try new ways in these new days. Hey, if things turn to shit, I’ll take full responsibility here. I promise.”\n\nChief Benson nodded, and Jerry smiled, ignoring the glimmer of a sneer thrown his way. He wasn't looking for the Chief's approval, after all, not when a job was waiting to be done.\n\nThe exchange was over much faster than either of them had anticipated. As promised, the car remote was left on the pavement, and the rag-tag response team made a show of laying down their firearms too. Only did then their quarry emerge, holding a woman in front of him as a shield. He spat on the ground, laughed at Chief Benson and Jerry, then flung the woman aside once he stumbled into the car. Two quick revs of the engine, and he sped away, a silver streak fast disappearing into the distance. \n\n“See, everyone’s safe,” said Jerry, as the recruits helped the hostages out.\n\n“Damn you,” said Chief Benson. “Once news of this gets out, every hoodlum is going to try their luck at-” \n\nJerry stretched out his arm, pointed a second, smaller remote in the direction that the Mustang took off in. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he muttered a brief prayer. Then, he jabbed down hard on the button, so forcefully that the joints of the remote creaked.\n\nThe explosion was so forceful that Chief Benson stumbled backwards, as he threw up his arm to shield his eyes. The Mustang, now a charred smoking hunk of steel and flames, spun gracefully through the air before landing with a crash. A flaming wheel rolled a short distance between connecting with a lamp post.\n\n“New world, new rules, Chief,” said Jerry.\n\n“What the hell…”\n\n“You’re right about Whitefish,” said Jerry. He started walking towards the wreck, and Chief Benson followed along, mesmerized by the carnage. “Though there was a deeper dimension to Chief Palmer’s methods. He wasn't a coward, not really. You see, he truly believed the Reckoning was the end of the world. And in those final moments, he said, who are we men to judge each other? Should we all not be who we truly are, so that when the angels come for us, they will see us for our true mettle?”\n\n“That’s insane,” said Chief Benson.\n\n“I disagree. I think he was just… too hopeful, you know? He really thought that everyone would do good in their final hours. But he was wrong. People weren’t humane to each other. They were brutal, uncivilized. Sure, you had a few who were kind and loving and compassionate and all that… but the majority?”\n\n“Where’s Chief Palmer now?”\n\n“Gone,” said Jerry, surprised at how level his tone was. No more cracking, no more breaking. Time really did heal wounds, it seemed. “The Reckoning may not have destroyed the world, but it surely ended his. When Chief Palmer saw just how much… damage had been caused by his decision to let his fellow man be free, he took his own life. He couldn’t bear the shame, I think.”\n\nThe flames had burnt out by the time they approached. It wasn’t Jerry’s first day out, after all. The tank had not been full, and the explosives were rigged for a very targeted payload. Waste not, want not. They peered in, and could just about confirm that the criminal hadn’t, in fact, escaped.\n\n“See?” Jerry said. “No collateral damage, all hostages safe. Get pictures of that, and I’ll help you ensure it gets the attention it needs. Zero tolerance policy in full effect, until such time as the world rebuilds itself. Your town will know that there’s no second chances, not as long as we are on the watch.”\n\n“You’re mad,” said Chief Benson. “You can’t be judge, jury and executioner. Who gave you the damn right?”\n\nJerry shook his head. “I don’t like it too, I really don’t. But the courts are not in session, and we’re about as far from a civilization as you can imagine. We’re back in the wild west, Chief Benson. And as far as I’m concerned, my father tried it his way and it didn’t work, so I’m going to be doing it my way for a while. Has it occurred to you that the only ones responsible for us, are ourselves?”\n\nJerry clapped Chief Benson on the shoulder, gave another little squeeze.\n\n“Different times, different measures, Chief.”\n\n--- \n\n/r/rarelyfunny \n", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
2,775	10,571	0.074433	1,406	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You get into a taxi cab after getting out of the airport. \"Where to?\" the driver speaks. Jokingly, you respond, \"Whatever dumb secret agency is nearby.\" \"Codephrase accepted, agent\" he responds.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The cab driver cast me a bored glance as I slid into the back seat. \n\n\"Where to?\" he said, putting his phone down and placing his hands loosely on the steering wheel.\n\nI looked at my phone to find the address, decided to banter with him in the meantime. \"Wherever,\" I said. \"Whatever dumb secret agency is nearby.\"\n\nHe looked at me in the rearview mirror again, this time squinting his eyes and studying me carefully. \"Codephrase accepted, agent,\" he said finally. \n\nI didn't have time to give him my real destination before we were off, zigging out of the waiting area with a sudden jerk and zagging between slower cars. \n\n\"Easy, mate,\" I said, gripping my seat and tightening my seatbelt. \n\nHe chuckled as if this was the joke instead of the destination. \"Easy? You're on a mission, can't be too fast.\"\n\nI didn't correct him, just braced myself and sat back. Instead of the small talk I'd been hoping to spur with my joke, his knuckles turned white as he clenched the steering wheel. Synchronously, my butt clenched as he weaved through traffic, narrowly avoiding cars and trucks. I gasped as he cut across three lanes to turn on a red light, entered a parking garage and paused at the gate.\n\nA gate attendant eyed him warily, told him that there were plenty of open parking spots on the second and third tiers of the garage. That the price was three bucks an hour, twenty for the day.\n\n\"I'm here for something dumb,\" my cab driver said. \n\nThe attendant's bored demeanor disappeared. \"You know the way,\" he said, and the gate opened without payment.\n\nMy eyes widened as we pulled into the garage, skipped the turn to the upper tiers and sped towards a plain, concrete wall. I'd become a pancake or get to Hogwarts, it couldn't go any other way at this speed. At the last moment, the wall slid open and we barreled down a dark ramp into the underside of the garage. \n\n\"Nearly there, agent,\" the cab driver said without looking at me in the mirror. If he'd looked, my utter shock would have given away my ignorance as to what in the world I'd gotten myself into.\n\nAs we sped, lights flickered to life, illuminating our path. He slowed as the tunnel came to an end and two armed guards approached the cab at a checkpoint. \n\n\"Dumb somethings make the world go round,\" the cab driver said. \n\nThe guard on the driver side of the car nodded, waved us through. We entered a cavernous room with dozens of people milling about, came to a stop beside a dozen other parked cabs. \n\n\"Good luck, agent,\" the cab driver said. Our eyes met in the rearview and he nodded at me. \n\n\"Thanks,\" I said. \"Good luck to you, too.\" Sounds like something right to say.\n\nI exited the cab, took a deep breath, and walked with purpose towards the door that read \"Agents Only.\" I'd winged life, I could wing this. \n\nI'd almost arrived when a burly man in a fitted suit stepped into my path. \"Your badge,\" he said, reminding me of the protocol I never knew.\n\n\"It was stolen,\" I lied. \"I need to report it.\"\n\n\"Stolen?\"\n\nI nodded. \"Not everybody loves dumb somethings,\" I tried. A dumb thing had to have dumber someones who didn't like these dumb somethings, right?\n\n\"Right this way,\" he said, leading me away from the door. Perfect.\n\nI followed, hoping it'd get me a badge. Maybe I'd need a fake name. A moniker, along with an alibi; a background story to fit. \n\n\"Here's badge processing,\" the man said, letting me into a glass-walled room. \"They'll be with you shortly.\"\n\nI stepped into the room, approached the unoccupied counter. There was a sign-in sheet with a handful of names on it. I scanned them quickly.\n\n\"Can I help you?\" a lady asked, entering from an unmarked door in the back. \n\n\"My name is\"--I double-checked the list--\"Carl Matthews.\"\n\nShe typed something on the computer, frowned and looked up at me. \n\n\"Again, Agent Matthews? You just got that badge today.\"\n\n\"I know,\" I said. \"I'm sorry. Accident prone, you know?\" I added with a smile.\n\nShe shrugged. \"That's fine. Give me ten and we'll have your new badge, Agent Matthews.\"\n\n*****\n\nThanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out more stories at r/MatiWrites. Constructive criticism and advice are always appreciated!", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,858	10,570	0.009536	1,709	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " One day, while your bored and home alone, you start looking up and pressing pressure points on your body. After you hit one behind your ear, a strange board appears in front of you. You’ve just opened the Character Menu. And there’s a lot of settings you didn’t know about...", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "It was like there was a projector, right on the wall, bright and clear. I turned around to look at my headstand, where the projector would be, but then the image moved there too.\n\nI moved in to touch it, but then the mouse appeared on the screen. I moved my hand, shocked. There was a loading bar, and the mouse waved across the screen as the bar filled up.\n\nThen it appeared. CHARACTER TRAITS, read the top of the screen. There was a small bar at the bottom of the screen that read 10 TRAIT COINS AVAILABLE. Across the screen there was a list of traits…\n\nSITUATIONAL AWARENESS: 1 POINT. UPGRADE?\n\nThe final day of high school, right after graduation. The school had rented out Disneyland for the night, and everyone had gone off to do the big new coasters or Matterhorn, but she had wanted to go to Splash Mountain. So there we were, standing in line, with only a few people ahead of us.\n\n“You never told me who you liked,” Angela said. “Come on. It’s the last day.”\n\n“You act like it’s the last time we’ll hang out. I know your tricks. Besides, you never told me.”\n\n“Cause I asked first!”\n\n“I don’t know. No one at the moment.”\n\nShe frowned. “That’s boring.”\n\nWe moved forward in line.\n\n“I’m cold,” she said. “And the water’s going to be cold.”\n\n“Do you want my jacket?” I asked.\n\n“No. Cause then you’ll be cold too. I just need someone to huddle together for warmth with.”\n\n“Oh…Maybe after this ride we’ll find Molly. You guys were already cuddling on the ride here.”\n\nShe looked at me for a moment, and I remember thinking there was pity in that look. That wasn’t the last time I saw her, but one of them.\n\nIMPULSIVENESS: 10 POINTS. NO UPGRADE AVAILABLE.\n\nEighth grade. We were trying out a new peer counseling system, which involved large groups sitting in a circle with a teacher. They called it “Judgement Free Time”, when you could say anything you wanted, without judgement. It just had to be the very first thing that was on your mind.\n\nNo one in the class wanted to start. Everyone either stared at the ceiling or at the desk. The teacher looked worried. I remember that, feeling bad for her that no one was participating.\n\n“I pulled my penis last night and white stuff came out. It felt really good, but it didn’t work again,” I blurted out.\n\nThe only good part of that situation was that I never had to go back to that class. Kicked out of Catholic school two weeks into the year.\n\nEMPATHY. 7 POINTS. UPGRADE?\n\nThere was this one girl that everyone bullied, early in high school, because she had gotten a period during class one day, and bled all over the seat. No one ever talked to her, and everyone called her “Tampon.”\n\nI remember there was an assembly about bullying after some freshman on the football team had been towel-whipped into bleeding, and how I had sat close to her, and noticed that she was quietly crying after the principal talked about how great the student culture generally was at our school, and how the football thing was just an isolated blemish.\n\nThat night, I had messaged her, just to ask how she was dealing with the big English paper. From then on, we talked almost every night, and she always sounded really excited to talk to me. But somewhere along the way, I started wondering if I was spending way too much time talking to her.\n\nOne day, I was sitting at my lunch table, waiting for my friends to get there, and she sat down across from me, smiling, like it was a normal thing. It must have taken such bravery for her to do that, and I didn’t think anything of it at the moment.\n\nBut then my friends didn’t sit down next to me, or the next day, and in the locker room someone asked me if “Tampon” was my girlfriend.\n\nI slowly stopped responding to her, and eventually she got the message and didn’t hit me up anymore or sit next to me.\n\nIt wasn’t until high school, which I guess was long enough for everyone to either forget or find a new target, that Angela and I became friends again. Still, even more than a decade later, it’s one of my biggest regrets.\n\nI moved the mouse over to the coins to drag one over to EMPATHY.\n\n“It won’t help immediately, but it will go far in the long run,” a voice said.\n\nI looked over. It was Angela, who I hadn’t seen in years, and had never been able to find online. I should have screamed, asked what she was doing in my house, but I didn’t. Somehow, it just made sense, seeing her there, after so long.\n\n“How?” I asked instead.\n\n“You normally do these upgrades in your sleep.”“W-what’s going on?”\n\nShe smiled. “Are you ready to actually play?”\n\nI looked over at the board, where the mouse was still frozen over the coins.“Play what?”\n\n“Only one way to find out,” she said. And she took my hand, and moved the mouse over to MISSION. From then on, nothing was the same.\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\nEdit: Wow! Thanks so much for reading and for responding, positive or otherwise. Really made my day. If you want to read more by me, I started a subreddit, r/penguin347, and I might continue this story if enough of you want me to! Thanks again.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
6,956	10,567	0.071496	2,595	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "\"Finally someone! A friend!\"", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"Your ticket says Hell?\" - the conductor looked at me confusingly - \"Why would anyone choose Hell? There must be a mistake, right? Hold on, I'll get the--\"\n\n\"Look, it's my decision. Just get me there, okay?\"\n\nI said, annoyedly. When I first got the attention of being the sole person in my company to pick Hell over Heaven, it was cool. Now, it mostly annoys me.\n\n\"Fine.\" - the conductor pulled out his phone. 15 minutes later, an older guy showed up.\n\n\"This one here wants to go to Hell.\" - he explained things to the newly arrived man, who asked him to repeat for the second time. Then, the third.\n\n\"Can I go to Hell yet?\" - I interrupted them.\n\nActually, it was more of a joke than a choice. But as I established my status of being the Hell- lover, I couldn't go back on my words. Maybe it was pride. One of the sins, eh?\n\n\"Thank you for choosing us Netherworld Express for your trip to Hea--\" - the announcer greeted her passengers warmly as we got out of the boarding area.\n\n\"Where is my train?\" - I asked, noticing that we were leaving the station.\n\n\"There isn't one.\" - Gary, my guide, answered shortly. I could practically see the questions swelling up in his brain. 'Why does this one want to go to Hell?' The Question as I call it. He was just too nervous or shy to ask. I don't blame him. Men have never been creatures good with words. But I had no intention of telling Gary that I picked Hell because it made me look cooler.\n\n\"There are too few to set up a train. Makes no profit.\" - said Gary as he unlocked his mini-van - \"You know what? You're the first one here going to Hell. The first one I've seen, still...\"\n\nWe set off upon a highway. To Hell. The miles ahead stretched until nowhere, burning like a punishment institution should be. I wonder if the phrase \"blaze the trail\" comes from here?\n\n\"So do they have a Stairway to Heaven or what?\"\n\n\"They do.\"\n\n\"Like after you get off the train there is a stairway?\"\n\nGary nodded.\n\nTime passed like that, two awkward individuals on an awkward road trip. I've never been on a road trip when I was alive. If it was like this, I'd rather stay home. Along the way, though, I noticed Gary's desire to ask The Question gnawing at him. He made a few attempts, but I shut him down quite subtly, for a man like Gary at least. I actually found myself enjoying the agonizing look on his face. Who cares? I'm going to Hell after all.\n\nThe gate of Hell was in fact more disappointing than I thought. A simple door with a Welcome doormat in front. The doormat seemed to be handmade, though. If it was more scary I would have reconsider my decision, but this is just degrading. They don't have a single train, don't tell me Hell itself cuts down on the cost too? Gary watched over me until I got in. I believed he was trying to take a peek at the place no one has ever entered.\n\n\"Dad? You should have called me bef--\"\n\nA blond man in his fourties greeted me. Then, he realised his mistake.\n\n\"A soul? Here?\"\n\nThe inside was full of nefarious beasts, some without legs or heavily scarred. One tried to bite me, but the man jumped in.\n\n\"Good boys don't bite! Fluffy, good boys don't bite!\"\n\nThe dog wasn't exactly fluffy, and I supposed he wasn't a good boy after all. Its vicious fangs tore deep into the man's flesh and as he forcefully pushed Fluffy away, it ripped off a big chunk of his arm\n\n\"Are you okay?\" - I screamed out. To my surprise, his arm was intact, only the place of the bite was a big scar ran deep. - \"What the--\"\n\n\"Being Satan you should be at least able to do this.\" - his arms were covered with scars like that one.\n\n\"You...you are Satan?\"\n\n\"It's Hell, what do you expect? Now, this must be a prank. I can book you a ticket to Heaven, but it would take--\"\n\n\"No, I chose to be here.\"\n\n\"Are you in some Satanic Cults? Stuff like that?\" - the Lord of Hell raised an eyebrow at me. -\"Or you did something guilty and want to repent for it?\"\n\n\"No, I just chose to be here.\"\n\nSatan laughed, a laugh so genuine it brought tears to my eyes. You could clearly see this man, or devil, hasn't laugh like that in a long time.\n\n\"Finally someone! A friend!\"\n\nNow I was the dumbfounded one.\n\n\"You see,\" - he said, still chuckling, - \"the Cultists left once they see me like this, and the guilty ones did when they know there is a Redemption Center up there.\"\n\n\"To be honest, I was a little bit disappointed. I thought you would be more--\"\n\n\"Scary-looking? Honey, like this?\" - in front of me was my ex-wife Samathan, as sinister as the day we divorced and she took my house and my car. Due to the shock, I lost my job as well. I recovered, yes, but it was a wound better left untouched.\n\n\"Okay,\" - the blond man was here again - \"I can look like all that you can imagine and more, but I prefer this. Come in, you live here now.\"\n\nHe led me into what appeared to be a living room. I sat on a brown sofa. It was pretty comfortable, to say the least.\n\n\"I will get us something to drink. What do you like?\" - Satan walked toward the kitchen.\n\n\"Anything is fine.\" - I answered half-heartedly, my attention focused on the beasts staring at me, and the immense number of pillows in the room.\n\n\"Make yourself at home. Oh, and don't leave that circle.\" - he pointed at a strange marking on the floor - \"Sugar and Cookie will pound at you, and they are not as easy as Fluffy.\"\n\nThe one-eyed Dobermann and the three-legged leopard looked at me with intense hate. What did I do to them? I hope Satan is right about the circle...\n\n\"Coffee, the staple.\" - the Devil returned with a pot of the freshly brewed dark liquid - \"Here are sugar and milk, if you want.\"\n\n\"Um, so are they hell spawns?\" - I asked nervously, avoiding the gaze of Cookie.\n\n\"What? No! You see, animal souls have afterlives too. Normally, pets would want to follow their owners to Heaven. These ones...life has been tough for them..\"\n\nThat explains the scars and the missing limbs.\n\n\"And they want to stay away from the owners.\" - I tried to pat Sugar, but his sharp teeth stopped me - \"Thus they end up here.\"\n\n\"You catch on quick. With all eternity up ahead, I suppose the least I can do is make them trust man, or devil, again.\" - he spoke with a slight sadness. -\"Is there anything you need? Maybe a pillow? Is the sofa soft enough?\"\n\nIn that moment, Satan sounded like a home owner desperately trying to please his guest. I decided to tell him the truth.\n\n\"Look, Satan, here is the catch. I only chose to go to Hell because I wanted some fame. No, it was more like the most radical choice I've ever made.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" - I heard something broke inside him - \"So, you want me to book you a ticket?\"\n\n\"No, not like that. I mean I was not here because I like Hell. I mean I lived a half-assed life with half-assed effort, so maybe I want to be more than just anybody. But I will stay, really.\"\n\n\"Well, I don't really care why you picked Hell over Heaven.\" - Now it was the sound of hope restored mixed in his sigh. - \"I hate to admit it, but Dad's slogan really wins him the game.\"\n\n\"Slogan?\"\n\n\"You know, the all 'doing good puts you in Heaven, where you'll live happily forever'. I just think promoting ethical choices through reward is wrong, and degrading.\"\n\n\"But 'Hell is where you'll be for your sins', isn't that right?\"\n\n\"Yeah, so?\"\n\n\"That is promoting ethcal choices through punishment.\"\n\n\"No? No!\" - Satan screamed in revelation - \"That was what mankind thought all those years? I mean... Damn! What I tried to say was that in Hell we'll accept you for your shortcomings! Damn it! Now it's too late to change it.\"\n\nSatan fell back into the chair, exhausted in mind and exhausted in soul.\n\n\"I mean,\" - he muttered, mostly for himself - \"I put up all these fire so that the souls can feel warm and cozy, the pillows I spent so much time making, and the doormat too. I just want to make them feel at home...\"\n\nIt was silence afterward, until the Devil realised I was still there.\n\n\"You must be tired by now.\" - he forged a smile upon his lips - \"Let me show you to your room.\"\n\nWe walked to an endless hall reminding me of the college dorm. Satan pointed at the first room.\n\n\"This one is mine. You can choose whatever that pleases you.\"\n\n\"I'll get this one, then.\" - I touched the door of the room next to his, and I saw a light in his eyes I haven't encountered since my son's first Christmas that he could remember.\n\n\"Give me moment to clean things up. No one has been there since....forever.\" - Satan entered my room. As he passed through the door, he asked - \"You'll...I mean, you aren't going to leave, are you?\"\n\nI have never seen a soul more lonely.\n\n\"I'll stay.\"", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
919	10,566	0.068417	762	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "humans have evolved to be unbelievably lucky.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The trouble with the results of the lottery - what has become known as the 'genetic luck' phenomena - is that luck largely relies on the misfortune of others. In order to win at something, others must lose. In order to find something valuable, someone else must have lost something of value. Even finding true love means the absence of love for another. The sad, cruel fact of the world is that luck is an inherently unfair force. \n\nThis has led to a world full of chaos - because if everyone is equally immensely lucky, then everyone must also simultaneously be immensely unlucky. Good fortune, regardless of how common or valuable, is countered with bad fortune almost without fail. There seems to be no escaping it; like a force of nature that allows us no shelter.\n\nThe unified governments have had various schemes to counteract it, having removed all other lotteries, gambling, even simple games of chance - which includes just about every game there is. All efforts have either failed or backfired violently. It seems that if luck, good or bad, is not able to be dispersed through small doses, then it instead violently erupts in unbelievable circumstances. The world has gone mad, with countless miracles and disasters happening almost constantly. \n\nPeople have taken to refusing any gesture of good fortune, lest misfortune attempt to equalize it. But luck cannot be rejected or refused. Society has begun to collapse, and we only have our good luck to blame. \n\nThough it may already be too late, the global unified government has enacted a decidedly simple solution. Instead of the winners being allowed the reproduce, as has been the case for nine generations - now it is only the rare losers who are given the opportunity. With any good luck, after a few generations the effects should be reversed, though no doubt some terrible unforeseen consequences await us regardless. \n\nFor now, we can only wait. It will take many years for the effects to come to fruition, and perhaps the world is already too far gone for it to be saved.\n\nIt would be a miracle if we get through this... but miracles are not so rare these days.\n\n***\n\n***\n\nIf you didn't completely hate that, consider subscribing to [my subreddit.](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/) \n\nI'll try add new (and old) stories every day <3 ", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,140	10,560	0.008699	1,888	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " After chatting with your online Korean friend, who you often game with, he invites you to visit him in his home country, which he always refers to as \"Best Korea\". You think he's joking around, but when you get a flight confirmation, you learn that your friend is actually Kim Jong-un.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "I probably shouldn’t have gotten onto this flight thought Tommy, as he woke up in Pyongyang. But he’s the best player in my clan I can’t get on his bad side. \n\nTommy grabbed his carry on luggage, and yawned mightily. He thanked a few of his flight attendants, who only smiled shyly at him, and whispered amongst themselves. He walked out of the plane to the runway. \n\nTommy froze when he saw the leader of “Best Korea” standing there, with a whole entourage, and fully armed military escort. \n\n“Best friend!” shouted Kim Jong-un. He smiled like it was the happiest day of his life, and handed Tommy a box of chocolates in a heart shaped box. “You my best friend now, since Dennis reft.” \n\nTommy didn’t know what to do. He stared around with wide eyes, and bowed a couple of times.\n\n“Th-kof kof kof-thank you so much great leader,” said Tommy. He bowed a couple more times. “I appreciate your hospitality, these look delicious.” \n\nKim Jong-Un gestured that Tommy should walk with him, smiling all the while. Tommy obliged. They went over to an area with some people standing in a line, and crying horribly for some reason. \n\nKim Jong-Un hit Tommy on the shoulder with the back of his hand. Like a pimp slap, but for your shoulder. \n\n“Hey man remembah dat time man, remembah dat triple collateral headshot to win that team deathmatch man you keeled all those people man ahhh man,” said Kim Jong-un. “Best day ever best friend, so fun. Let’s re-live that man, look over there man.”\n\nKim Jong-Un pointed at the crying people, lined up in a row. \n\n“I see them?” said Tommy. \n\nA soldier handed Kim Jong-Un a sniper rifle, and bowed several times. Kim Jong-Un looked at it, and smiled real bright. Great toy. \n\n“I try,” said Kim Jong-Un. \n\nOh God, thought Tommy. I 360 no-scoped I remember that shot, oh shit.\n\nKim Jong-Un did a full revolution with the rifle in his hand. Tommy ducked, while everybody else only cringed. He stabilized himself after the spinning, and took a step to get his balance. He shook his head, and smiled real bright. He took twenty full seconds to line up the sight. \n\nBANG.\n\n“FUCK,” Tommy shouted. He looked away, then threw up beside the runway. Nothing but airline food, some weird meat and a piece of bread. It tasted like bile. \nKim Jong-Un smiled, and handed the rifle to Tommy. \n\n“So much fun, now you try too best friend,” said Kim Jong-Un. \n\nTommy got into fits of coughing, and politely declined. \n\n“I’m sorry great leader I just c-kof kof kof kof-”\n\n“I said,” said Kim Jong-Un. He shoved the gun into Tommy’s hands. “I said now you try best friend, you get it? My English good?” \n\n“It’s great,” said Tommy. He did an okay symbol, and put his hands on his knees, wheezing. “It’s so great, so great merciful leader.” \n\n“Good.” \n\nHe handed it to him, like a gift. Tommy slowly took the rifle. They lined up a whole row of other crying people, right next to the bodies of the recently collateraled. Tommy breathed in and out hard, and tried to steady his hand. There was the man at the front, pleading for mercy, in his line of sight. Tommy’s hands were shaky, but his aim was true. He felt the burn of acid in his throat. \n\nHe turned to Kim Jong-Un and fired at his face. \n\nA toy flag came out reading Awww man. The flag waved by Kim Jong-Un’s face. It tickled him. \n\nSoldiers all around seized Tommy, and threw him to the ground. They tazed him too, just for fun. \n\n“Wrong choice best friend,” said Kim Jong-Un. He kneeled beside Tommy’s shaking body, slobbering while being tazed. He made a tsk tsk tsk noise, and stopped smiling. “Wish you didn’t do that choice. But you still my bro though okay former best friend? Okay cool.\" \n\nThey stopped tazing him, and handed Tommy a controller. A bunch of soldiers ran out with a TV screen, and a game console. Everything was all ready loaded. \n\nTommy was shivering in horror. \n\n\"1 V 1 best friend,\" said Kim Jong-Un. He smiled at Tommy with delight. \"Play for your life.\"\n\nEdit: Whoa happy you guys enjoyed this post! I’d love to reply to all the comments but I don’t want to push stories below any further away from visibility. That was a very interesting conversation below on accents, I based my perspective on his accent a lot on how Kim Jong-Il spoke in Team America: World Police with some influence from Ken Jeong’s character Mr. Chow in the Hangover, I assure you there was no ill-will towards the general Korean accent. I’ve briefly been to South Korea and it’s a beautiful country with awesome people. I had a scare in Seoul airport recently from an allergic reaction and thankfully I received help fast enough from some kind people there to reach the pharmacy and for it to not be too much of a problem haha \n\nYou can find links to other samples of my writing in every letter of this [W]( https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/37qidy/wp_write_a_synopsis_of_50_shades_of_grey_in_the/) [O]( https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/61frvu/wp_you_pull_off_your_headphones_and_the_whole/dfe9obk/?context=3)[R]( https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3z3lb0/cw_write_a_story_with_as_many_plot_twists_as_you/cyj2uac/?context=3) [D]( https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/37h9pn/wp_george_washington_accidentally_traveled_to_the/crn490l/?context=3). I love Writing Prompts it’s honestly my favorite part of the Reddit community. \n\n", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
2,565	10,558	0.148982	556	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "they get stronger and stronger. \"Dying of old age\" is when groups of young people band together to kill off their elders before they become too strong to defeat.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Dear Mr Smith-White\n\n&#x200B;\n\nCongratulations on your 100th birthday. I am so happy to hear you've reached this venerable age, including escaping various traps lain by your nephews, a gang of youths with knives last Tuesday, and a rudimentary car-bomb the other week.\n\nYes, i have been watching you. I have been watching all my rivals.\n\nYou see, you may think you have now reached the point that the young can no longer destroy you. And you would be right. But did you never think as to why the elderly don't simply rule outright? Why we don't shatter nations before us?\n\nIt's because first you have to get past me.\n\nEnclosed are first-class tickets to London, where you will receive a free royal escort to the palace. Don't worry, there are no tricks. My guard will be dismissed for the occasion- as I'm sure you've guessed, they're mostly ceremonial anyway. We will fight, one on one, to the death, as I have fought (and defeated) every centenarian in this nation to this day.\n\nPlease don't miss our meeting, I much prefer a civil duel to the mess and annoyance of a prolonged hunt.\n\nHappy birthday, and congratulations again.\n\nHRM, Queen Elizabeth II", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
2,073	10,554	0.012772	933	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You're a super-villain who took over the world because you thought you'd do a better job of running it and you were right. You've created a peaceful, just, equal and scientifically driven global society everyone likes, except for a cadre of former super-heroes who are now radical terrorists.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Because I opposed them, opposed the idea that our superpowers made us better than everyone—they labeled me a ‘villain.’\n\t\nThey attempted to battle me, and even attacked my friends. It wasn’t long before public opinion turned, and they were the bad guys. With the people behind me, they grew even worse, becoming hellbent on the idea that this planet is plagued and needs cleansed. Soon they were attacking everything, and my pacifistic ways were letting people die.\n\t\nThis is when I realized something—fighting isn’t wrong so long as you’re fighting to protect. My people are the most important thing in my life, and keeping this world safe is my only goal. Once your battles become selfish, you only care about destruction.\n\t\nFighting the heroes wasn’t easy, but one by one, I beat them. Most of the time I knocked some sense into them, and by the end, they’d joined my side. Some wanted them thrown in jail, but I knew they weren’t responsible for all this chaos—they were just following orders from the man standing directly in front of me.\n\t\nJack, the greatest hero of all time.\n\t\nWe’re in the middle of nowhere, and he’s hunched-over, eyes wide and strained. Energy’s floating around his hands, itching to be set free, and I can’t help but sigh because this is a sad day. A day of wasted potential. I gotta try talking him down even though it's pointless. He’s wanted this fight for a long time, won’t stop until one of us is dead.\n\t\nOur powers…they’re incredible, and while I don’t like to brag, a battle between us would be catastrophic. The world would surely be in shambles by the end, and honestly, I’m not even sure it would end.\n\t\n“Please,” I beg. “Let us be allies, Jack.”\n\t\n“Never! You’re a monster!”\n\t\nA second later, he’s rushing at me, and so I do the only thing I can, which is drop my guard, allowing him to stab me in the chest. The rush of pain’s immense, and the look on his face pained—he never thought he’d kill me, never thought it’d be this easy. He’s not an evil man, he’s just someone who was consumed by pride. When I look into his eyes I see regret, and I’m sure when my people arrive, he’ll allow himself to be arrested.\n\t\nI press my head against his just as a tear streams down his cheek.\n\t\n“No, I’m simply your brother. It’s time to atone, Jack. Time to atone.”\n***\nIf you like this story, check out my sub /r/LonghandWriter or [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/BryceBealWriter)", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
4,285	10,548	0.015922	1,091	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " It's been ten years since 'The Gap' when everyone on the planet just lost an entire year of their lives. Completely unable to recall anything that happened during that time-frame. We know life went on, but no one can recall anything. Then, you find one half-burned book and know why we forgot.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "One night, ten years ago, I fell asleep on my friend’s couch after a night of heavy drinking.\n\nOne morning, ten years ago, I woke up on an airplane, 38,000 feet in the air. \n\nWe called it ‘The Gap’. \n\nWhen humanity woke that day, we found that a year had passed. Somehow, our bodies had kept moving, our lives had continued - but we remembered none of it. \n\nResearchers and scientists devoted millions of manhours to the search. There were no records of that year, no artifacts that could tell us what happened. Everything, from internet records to personal journals, that contained information from that year was destroyed.\n\nWell, almost everything.\n\nOne morning, two days ago, I found it.\n\nA half-burned journal with the events of 2020.\n\nMassive fires. Locust swarms. A pandemic that spread across the world. As the year went on, the events grew stranger and stranger. The pandemic worsened. The climate changed faster and faster. A series of solar flares wiped out most of our electrical infrastructure. It was as though the universe itself had been trying to wipe out humanity. \n\nPeople started to go missing, whole cities at a time. Others started acting stranger and stranger. World leaders became erratic and unreliable, especially in the wake of the solar flares. Nobody opposed them. \n\nA dozen secret organizations revealed themselves. Fighting broke out. The Illuminati won out against the Collective, but were in turn defeated by the Foundation. \n\nAh, the Foundation.\n\nUnlike the others, they didn’t want to rule. They didn’t want anything besides the preservation of humanity.\n\nThey told us that they’d been protecting us for years. That one of their Reality Anchors had failed, and that the universe itself was warping. \n\nWe could see it happen. Street lamps twisted themselves into knots. The earth warped and twisted beneath our feet. Skyscrapers appeared in the middle of fields. A jungle sprouted up in Manhattan. The sky rippled and twisted on a daily basis. Some days, we had to wear gas masks just to go outside. \n\nContinents moved like sailing ships. Pangea came again in the space of a single week. Anything not under direct observation by a set of human eyes could, and did, change. Coffee turned to gasoline. Gravity would invert itself in a single city block, then be entirely normal in the next block.\n\nWe rallied behind the Foundation in a global effort never seen before. They built a machine - a reset device, they called it. It would calm the ripples in spacetime, bring us back to where we were. The catch?\n\nWell, none of us would remember a thing. I suppose the Foundation was happy about that.\n\nThe Reality Reset took place on December 31st, 2020. It wiped everything two hours before a meteor was due to strike the surface of the Earth. \n\nThe Foundation destroyed any records of that year. They said it would be disruptive to the fabric of society. I suppose they missed one thing.\n\nOr I suppose they didn’t.\n\nAs I write this, I see two vans pulling into my driveway. I’m not expecting guests.\n\nBut before I go, I should record one last thing. One thing the book mentioned.\n\n2020 wasn’t the first time reality reset.\n\nAnd it won’t be the last.\n\n---\n\nLike this story? Want to read more? Subscribe to /r/OneMillionWords", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,610	10,548	0.031045	831	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You've been cursed so that whenever you pick up a tool you will lose consciousness but wake up after finishing a project related to that tool, you just picked up a bow hoping to get some hunting done, when you wake up, you're sitting on a throne.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "My eyes pried open as if they'd been sealed for a thousand years, rusted shut. The light of awareness stung them, and I felt sand. A lot of sand, whirling about me; rough, coarse and everywhere. Every breath left my mouth grainy.\n\nThere was a man kneeled in front of me, robes stuck to him with sweat, baking under the midday sun. I wiped at my brow and sat up.\n\nSomething creaked.\n\n\"Who... Who are you?\" I asked, trying to rub the grogginess out of my eyes.\n\n\"Your Grace- tell me not that you've forgotten your most loyal servant. It is I, Jakho.\"\n\nI squinted. We were amidst a camp, a massive one, with arrows stuck all in the tents-- and it was empty, from what I could tell. Save for the two of us.\n\n\"Jakho, where am I?\"\n\n\"You are in Garamtir, Your Grace. As a king.\"\n\n\"Impossible.\" I looked around, and still, nothing stirred. \"King of what?\"\n\nHis lip quivered. \"What you said was true. All has been lost. Very well, I will recount recent events to you in brief.\n\n\"You first showed up just two sunsets ago, a strange visitor in these parts. Not many of your race come around often.\n\n\"You challenged our King to a trial by combat. After much laughter, he obliged, mostly in jest, since you are so... You are not as large as the men in these parts. The battle started, and you pulled out a bow, and shot him in the heart.\n\n\"People were in shock, but the men realized that technically the Contract never stated a bow couldn't be used. Upon realizing this, all hell broke loose, and men, women-- even children took up a bow. You're the last one standing.\"\n\nI stared at him, slack-jawed, standing up to a cacophony of creaking, and turned to my throne. \"What is this thing, Jakho?\"\n\n\"I am the only one who surrendered. I was born with weak pride, and was ridiculed from birth. Upon your victory, you accepted me and requested a very... specific throne. I did my best.\"\n\nThere lied the seat of my reign, crudely hewn of broken bows. I turned to Jakho again. \"What am I king of?\"\n\nHe shrugged. \"Me, I guess.\"\n\n/r/resonatingfury", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,373	10,546	0.066159	1,654	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " A planet is found rotating around a sun identical to ours and having the same orbit and singular moon.You are sent to inspect.When you land you find life there exactly like that of the Earth you left behind and the people think that you have come back to tell them what the other planet is like.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Two years ago I left my home planet.\n\nFour months ago I landed on this planet. Meanwhile I've started to believe They're the same one.\n\n\\--\n\n\"Come here Max\", I shout to my dog, the only living thing I could trust since I landed, at least at the start. He leaves the piece of wood he was playing with, looks at me for a few seconds, then starts running towards me.\n\n\\--\n\nThe first week on this planet I stayed in a little hospital owned by their NASA, where they put me through a lot of tests to check that I am healthy after my journey. Things happened so fast, I barely had the time to think or talk to people, I just went along with it. A lot of the tests involved exercise, so most days I'd be very tired after them and just sleep for 16 hours straight until the next test. The people that handled me looked, acted and talked like humans, and that fascinated me - but they did not look familiar. To be fair, I've never been to this hospital back on Earth, because most of my work was in the US - but I did know it existed.\n\n\\--\n\nWe arrive at the entrance to the park and I greet Bob with a head gesture. He greets me back and we enter.\n\nMax goes to the left and starts his routine of sniffing the closest tree, seeing I've continued without him, running along and going to the next tree.\n\nIt's already 12 PM, and my stomach starts making weird noises so I decide to sit at the next bench and open the homemade lunch I brought in my backpack.\n\n\\--\n\nAfter they decided I was good to go, they gave me the address to an apartment that was leased for a month where I could stay until I was ready to \"go home\". At the time, I thought I knew what they meant, so I took a very Earth-looking cab and gave the driver the address.\n\nBy that time, I thought that I was in an exact replica of Earth, with a different history, politics and people, and decided to invest my time into researching the differences and not the similarities. I also had some assignments I was given by my team at NASA, but I put them aside, at least for the start, so I could get used to the new place.\n\nThe first things I've done after settling at the apartment, was going to the closest shop and buying (using money their NASA gave me) a newspaper, a map of the world and a map of the city. My plan was to find a library nearby and start investigating.\n\nBut on my way back to the apartment, I got a phone call that was the first sign that something was off.\n\n\\--\n\nAfter getting the water bottle and letting Max drink a little, I stretch my hand further into the bag to search for my sandwich. I'm sure I put it there. After getting all of the things out of the bag I am now convinced I left it on the counter when I left the house. merde.\n\nI look at the things I got out of the bag and one specific item catches my eye - the newspaper I bought on my second week back. Having nothing better to do, I decide to read it until Max will finish playing around and we can go back.\n\n\"Sunday Times, 4.5.2018\"\n\nSomething's off.\n\n\\--\n\nAll the flight to their NYC, two words kept me awake. \"Welcome back\". What did he me by back?\n\nI was on my way to meet with my \"manager\", who knew my name, said he was from their NASA, and sounded too much like my manager back home.\n\nHe told me they couldn't wait a month so they booked me a flight, and that they will start questioning me about the trip as soon as I arrive. The \"trip\" was one year and 8 months in space, me sleeping like a baby all the way through. It actually felt like I've fallen to a coma and woke up when the spaceship landed. So at the time all I could think about was what could they possibly ask me about it.\n\nNYC was exactly the same as back home. Same smells, same shops, same advertisers in times square, I even caught a glimpse of my old building while I was in the cab.\n\nThe driver stopped in front of a building that looked like the one my old manager's office was at.\n\nWhen I got into the room I was speechless to see a look alike of my real manager.\n\n\\--\n\nI start recalling how they convinced me I was back at my home planet.\n\nIt started with my manager showing me the route my ship took, then a bunch of scientist I worked with coming up with explanations, some co-workers that worked with me trying authenticate themselves and convince me it was really them.\n\nIt continued with me meeting my wife. I couldn't resist her. The whole following week we were together after all the time we were apart, and we brought up memories from when we first started dating, when I asked her father if I could have her, our wedding...\n\nAfter that week with her I just accepted the truth that I was back after my ship couldn't get to the new planet, and that I was really back at my home planet.\n\nBut now I'm not sure of it anymore. Small details that I missed before are coming up to me - how my wife and I couldn't agree on the color of my suit at our wedding, how a neighbor I've talked to several times seemed not to recognize me, how I suddenly was too tall to enter the basement without crunching my back, how I couldn't get a hold of my sister since I came back... And now this.\n\nYou see, I left Earth on the 3rd of July, 3282.\n\n\\-----\n\nEDIT: Thank you all for the comments!\n\nI truly believe in a reader's interpretation, so I'm sorry for not clearing things out or commenting about your theories of things. Your interpretation is just as correct as mine.\n\nAlso, I wrote a little bit more as I felt I have not finished exploring this storyline. Part 2 is attached as a comment, hope you like it!", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
4,042	10,538	0.031222	623	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Humans are the most social creatures in the galaxy, even the most socially inept human is far more confident in social situations than any other alien. The Intergalactic society finally gathered the confidence to make first contact.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Lights shot in through the window and played across the ceiling, rousing me from my sleep almost immediately. Vivid, brilliant riots of colors at 3 A.M. being somewhat unusual, I figured I may as well get up.\n\nConfused and still quite groggy, I managed to find my slippers, grabbed my robe, and went to the window to investigate.\n\nThe woods behind my house seemed to be poorly hiding a large rave, only there was no music. Much more confused and much less groggy, I kicked off the slippers and shoved my feet into my boots. Something wasn't right, and I intended to find out what this was about.\n\nI hadn't gotten more than twenty feet outside before I saw it: slim, short, with a large head and creepy eyes, wearing what I could only really describe as... well, call me crazy, but it was wearing what looked like a fedora.\n\nWhen it noticed me looking right at it, it bolted towards the woods at high speed, arms flailing in the air, all while emitting a weird, high-pitched squeal.\n\nRunning after the alien, I noticed it drop something, then scramble up a tree and away, much faster than I could follow. It looked like a crumpled piece of paper. As I picked it up, I could hear more of the high-pitched squealing noises farther off.\n\nThe piece of paper simply read, over and over, in about every language I could recognize (and many I couldn't):\n\n\n\"Would you like to be considered members of the United Federation of Planets with us?\n\nCheck one: [] Yes [] No\"\n\n", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,157	10,538	0.020124	2,780	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "addressing things he couldn’t have known would occur.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "A grumpy fourteen year old sat at his kitchen table, devouring a pop-tart and scrolling through his texts.\n\n\"Happy birthday, kiddo!\" The boy's mother burst into the kitchen, a wide smile on her face. She ruffled his hair and plopped a wrapped gift down in front of him. \n\n\"Thanks, Mom.\" He reluctantly grinned as he tore at the gift. An old video game case of his with a fifty dollar bill inside, and an envelope identical to the ones he'd received every birthday for the last seven years. He pocketed the cash and slid the envelop away from him.\n\n\"I don't want it.\" He mumbled as he stood up and finished his pastry. \n\nA worry-some look came over his mother. \"What do you mean? He wrote it for you, baby, you've got four more of these waiting for you.\"\n\n\"Ya, and I don't want any of those either...\" \n\nShe sighed. \"Look, I know growing up without a father has been rough, but he left you these because he loved you,\" She held the envelope close to her chest. \"He loved you more than anything in the world.\"\n\n\"Then why the fuck did he leave?!\" The boy was fuming now, and his mother had to block him from going out the back door.\n\n\"There's a lot you don't understand, but if you'd read the letters, I promise it'll make more sense..\" Tears welled up in her eyes.\n\n\"Mom! He left us both! He bailed, and because he managed to get himself killed you want to forgive him for abandoning us in the first place!\" He shoved past his mother and ripped the back door open. \"Why'd he adopt a fucking kid if he didn't plan to stick around?!\" \n\nHe ran across the back yard and hopped over the fence, faintly hearing his mother calling after him. \"He loved us; he loved YOU!\"\n\n______\n\nHis next birthday was much of the same: she presented him with both that year's envelope and the year prior, and he rejected it; shouting, tears, and an angry boy storming out of the house.\n\nThe following year, he pretended to accept the envelopes, only to walk over to the stove and hold one over the flames. That was the only time his mother ever struck him; she punched him square in the jaw, weeping hysterically, and this time she's the one who stormed out. \n\nHis seventeenth birthday came, but there were no gifts. No cash, no envelopes, and no birthday wishes from his mother that morning. He had crept up the stairs to her bedroom door, which was ajar, and peaked in -hoping just to tell her that he loved her before he left for school. She was laying across her bed, four envelopes strewn about the sheets, and sobbing heavily into her pillow. He rolled his eyes, snuck back downstairs, and left without a word. 'Why can't she let him go?' He felt she had more love for the man who left her than she did for her own son. \n\n______\n\nThe night of his eighteenth birthday he lay in his bed in a deep sleep; the booze he'd partaken in with his friends had knocked him right out. His dreams were marred by terrible scenes: A horrible car wreck, the sound of steel crashing and grinding; Bodies strewn about in the wet street, wailing out for help; A hospital bed, and the sound of a patient flatlining. \n\nHe jumped out of his sleep; he was absolutely drenched in sweat, and his breathing was short and manic. The rain outside batted down steadily on the roof, and the sound soothed him a bit. He caught his breath and checked his phone: 4am. \n\n\"Happy eighteenth birthday.\" He said to himself as he let his head fall back onto the pillow. \n\nHe had just closed his eyes again when his phone began to vibrate violently on the night-stand, and he had initially mistaken it for thunder. It was a number he didn't recognize, so he ignored it, turned his phone to silent, and fell back asleep. \n\nHe woke a few hours later with a headache and feeling particularly groggy, and he slowly made his way to the bathroom. After a short bout of vomiting, he splashed some water on his face and made his way back to his room. He noticed his mother's door was wide open and peaked inside. Empty. 'Weird,' He thought to himself. 'Her shift should have been up a few hours ago.'\n\nHe returned to his room to check his phone and what he saw sent chills down his spine: seventeen missed calls and fourteen voicemails. He quickly opened up his voicemail, and he didn't even bother listening to any after the first. His mother had been in an accident and she was in the hospital. \n\nHe'd sprinted the entire way there; he'd never ran so hard for so long in his life, and when he arrived he felt like he could keel over and die right there in the lobby. The nurse at the front desk went wide-eyed when he gave her his name, and asked him to sit down while she tracked down the doctor. He refused, and instead pace around for a few minutes until someone came to greet him. \n\n\"Clarence?\" An older, kind looking woman a white coat approached him. \n\n\"That's me! Where's my mother? Is she ok?!\" His face was full of fear. \n\n\"Clarence, I think we should have a seat.\" \n\n______\n\nHe stood over her inert body and held her cold hand in his. She had been dead for almost four hours, and he was overwhelmed by guilt. They had sent an officer to his house shortly after she was admitted, but after pounding on the door for nearly twenty minutes they assumed he wasn't home. They let him stay with her body for a few hours, before arranging a ride home for him. \n\nHe thought about what the doctor had told him, the information only just registering in his mind, and his dream from the night before invaded his thoughts. 'A drunk driver fell asleep at the wheel and merged into oncoming traffic,' He thought of the horrible accident from his dream. 'The driver hadn't been wearing a seatbelt and was thrown from the car, he died instantly.' The body in the wet street. 'Your mother fought valiantly, and we did all we could, but we lost her.' The horrible, piercing noise of someone flatlining in the hospital. \n\n____\n\nHe sat in his empty kitchen for a while; tears streaming down his face, and wished to hear his mother's voice wish him happy birthday. Eventually, he made his way up the stairs without any real thought behind his actions -he felt as if his mind had been unplugged, and he was now incapable of truly willing himself to do anything specific. He trudged passed his own bedroom door and stopped just in front of his mother's room. A chill came over him, the thought of this room now being inhabited engulfed his mind. His arm raised to shut the door, but he stopped when he spotted six envelopes on the bed. \n\n'Six?' He thought to himself. 'There were only five more from him...'\n\nHesitantly, he crossed the threshold into her room, and stood over the bed. Five letters near the foot of her bed, and one resting near her pillows. This one was unique, and his mother's hand writing spelled out his name. He opened the envelope, pulled out the letter folded inside, and read its short contents: \n\nClarence,\n\nI love you, and if you love me too, I know you'll do this one thing for me. Please, read them.\n\nI'll always be with you, Mom. \n\nHe set down his mother's final words to him with care, and moved to the other five letters. Picking up the envelope labeled 'Fourteen', he tore it open and pulled out the sheet of paper. Blank. He flipped it over and back multiple times, confused, and ran his fingers inside the now empty envelope. He moved to the next envelope 'Fifteen', and ripped it open. Blank.\n\n'Sixteen', blank.\n\n'Seventeen', blank.\n\nHe came to the final envelope, opened it, and this time pulled out a sheet of paper covered front to back in handwriting. Joyous for something, he began to read:\n\nClarence,\n\nIf you're reading this, which I know you will be, then I've been dead for some time now, and your mother has just passed away. I know life has been hard without me there, and I know you've been taking it out on your mom for some time now, but just know, that we both forgive you. There's really nothing to forgive, in fact, because the position we put you in is a most unfair one. I'll do my best to explain, and I hope you'll understand.\n\nWhen I was a young man, freshly eighteen like yourself, I developed an amazing ability. I can see things, Clarence, things yet to pass; some are possibilities, and some are utmost certainties. This ability, as spectacular as it may be, has put our family in grave danger. I should have never conceived a child, I know that now, and I think I knew it all along, but I was selfish. Clarence, you're not adopted -you are our son. Our son in both love and biology, and you share my gift.\n\nThe adoption was a lie, and one we had to go to great lengths to ensure that the world perceived as truth. My gift should have remained a secret, but I was foolish, and my recklessness put a target on my back. There are forces out there that would see me dead, and others that would see me to an even worse fate. We had to protect your true identity, as my biological son, because if they knew then they would pursue you relentlessly.\n\nEven after all the precautions we took; I knew I couldn't stay with you both, I saw it, and I had no choice but to leave. I know what you're thinking 'Why didn't I stop her death?'. Well, son, it doesn't work like that. Death always finds us in the end, and attempting to prolong the inevitable always leads to more suffering.\n\nBut, there is much we can change, and I couldn't let you fall into the hands of those who would exploit your gift. Son, I know this is overwhelming, but if you cultivate your mind you will be able to do extraordinary things -far more than I could have ever hoped to accomplish.\n\nThe future is not set in stone, and how you proceed from here is up to you; However, should you need some direction, head to the address inside in the envelope, and tell em I sent you.\n\nI've seen so many possibilities for who you become, Clarence, and I'm proud of each and every one of them.\n\nI'll always love you, Dad.\n\n/r/BeagleTales \n\nSee my comment down below for info on part 2!", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
4,858	10,536	0.011448	1,660	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You are a true immortal. You stay sane by hanging out with the descendants of friends that are long dead. Today, one said a very familiar phrase you haven't heard in a long time.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "They said it would be lonely living forever. They said it would be lonely and sad. They said the pain of watching everyone I love die would haunt me all my days.\n\nThey were right, well they were kind of right, for that first hundred years or so.\n\nI lost family. My mother, my father, my brother, cousins, aunts, uncles and more. I lost friends. All those people you expect to walk along side you and help you shuffle through your mortal coil.\n\nThe loss, the pain, the suffering. It was an unending weight upon me. It suffocated me to the point where I could not breathe, I could not love, I could not feel.\n\nAll I did for a hundred years was brood. I was a moody, moping, morose man. I skirted society and got by with as little contact to the wider world as possible. You could have called me a hermit, I looked like one. My clothes hung from my limp form, I ate little and was nothing more than skin and bone. It’s not like it could kill me. I frequented the right bars in the wrong side of town, no one asked for my name or made an effort to talk to me and that’s the way I liked it.\n\nOne day a young man came in, he looked oddly familiar. He had a mop of unruly, dirty blond hair, striking blue eyes and a hesitant smile. He looked like he was a smiler. I could see the faint crinkle lines to to sides of his eyes. I don’t think I’d taken more than a cursory glance at anyone in maybe fifty years. There was something about this guy, I just couldn’t put my bony finger on it.\n\nI sat in usual spot in the corner, half obscured by shadow and supped my whiskey. I watched the young man, intrigued. He ordered two drinks from the barman who grunted as the monetary transaction took place.\n\nI looked away as he picked them up, I was intrigued but I didn’t want to converse with anyone. I never did. The grunting bar man was enough social interaction for me for the week. I studied the painting on the wall of an old rock star. I always liked way the lightning bolt was painted on his face, I couldn’t remember his name, I doubt anyone could in this day and age.\n\nSuddenly there was a clearing of someone’s throat. I looked up and saw the blond mop of hair, haloed by the light. Inwardly, I thought this guy is brave. Outwardly, I growled, “What do you want?”\n\nThe young man grimaced and said, “I’ve been looking for you.” He shuffled back a couple of paces and his hands visibly shook.\n\n“What do you want?” I asked.\n\nHe put the drinks down on the sticky table and opened up his jacket. He pulled out an age stained envelope and opened it. He held it to me with his shaking hands.\n\n“It was from my great-grandad, it had instructions to open it on my eighteenth birthday. He said to find you. He said, you wouldn’t believe me so I have to say this to you...”\n\nHe hesitated then and I sighed, “Get it over with kid.”\n\n“I bet you’re still stubborn, but you’ll need someone. You’re a fool to think otherwise. I know you better than you know yourself old friend.” He read.\n\nI downed my drink and moved to get up. The table squeaked.\n\n“Wait, there’s more.” He said, sounding more confident than he looked. “I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.”\n\nNostalgia hit my like a freight train to the stomach. I suddenly knew why the young man looked familiar. He looked just like Brian Brown.\n\nBrian Brown was my best friend. We were thick as thieves the two of us, from kindergarten through college. We were the class clowns, the loveable rogues, we were smart as we were funny and athletic to boot. We had the world at our feet and scouts watching us play every week. Brian became withdrawn after the state championship game. His whole demeanour changed. It took a whole week for him to open up to me. He said he wanted to be known for more than just his skill on the football field. He wanted people to know he was worth more than that, that he could do more than that. He said, he didn’t know what to do. In his lowest moment I listen to him break his heart. I told him I’d recently read a poem that made me feel brave. I got him to repeat after me. “I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.” Brian went on to win many awards in his chosen profession, medicine. He helped so many people. That’s just who he was. \n\nI’d forgotten that. I’d forgotten too much. I felt a spark of something I hadn’t felt in such a long time. Hope. \n\nI picked up the drink, “What’s your name kid?”\n\n“Brian Lucas Brown, sir” he murmured while looking at his battered converse sneakers. \n\n“Well I’ll be damned” I smiled at the kid and he handed me the letter. I read it and I felt at peace for the first time in a long time. “Next drink is on me Brian, damn, it’s been a long time since I said that.”\n\nThe kid lit up, those crinkle lines accentuating his glee. Actually, they call me Luc. I’m told it’s after you. Great grandad Bri said he’d never known anyone as mischievous as you... Until I came along”\n\nThe next two hundred years or so have been different since then. I’ve stayed in their lives, the Browns. I’ve kept a watch over them, I’ve been there for them. I’ve been their brother, their uncle, their friend. All because of my Brian, I AM the master of my fate and I AM the captain of my soul. He’s always with me in his progeny. You’d be shocked at how I still see his characteristics in them even after all this time.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,434	10,534	0.007618	1,580	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Due to a clerical error the soul of the one destined to be the Dark Lord, leader of the armies of darkness, scourge of all that is good and holy is sent to a loving household and grows up to be a well adjusted individual that just happens to have unfathomable eldritch powers", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"Really? Another B+? Aww. Guess you'll get them next time.\" Sharina smiled kindly at me. I swear I could have just jumped into the abyss of her deep black eyes right there and then.\n\nShe had this - allure - to her. I've seen a great variety of people in my life and I still couldn't put a finger on it. It definitely wasn't sexual or romantic, she didn't fit any of the tropes. Yet, she wasn't a basket case or a goth either; she had friends and leadership positions, even if she wore all black and confessed that she preferred being alone and studying the esoteric. I guess that's why we could have this unlikely friendship; was I the manifestation of whatever she didn't want to show the school?\n\nI couldn't even be sarcastic with her. \"Thank you,\" my voice stammers as I crumple the paper into my bag, holding back the slightest tears.\n\nAgain, she sees through it. \"Tell you what! Let's go back to my place after school. My parents might be home, but they'll be okay!\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Uh... hi, Sharina's mom.\" I crouch into the house hesitantly after Sharina.\n\n\"Please, make yourself at home.\" Sharina's mother is not unlike her, with that caring vibe going on, but from even a cursory glance I can see that the apple fell real, real far from the tree. The older woman preferred bright, pastel colours in her dress, in the colour of the walls, even in the lighting of the room. While Sharina's smile shone with the light out of a black hole, her mom radiated warm sunlight.\n\nSharina went to get a drink in the kitchen, while I sat at their dining table and waited. I couldn't help but take a look at the books on their wall:\n\nThe Necronomicon\n\nProper Communication with your Child\n\nHow to throw off your past\n\nHow to be proud of your past\n\nMalleus Maleficarum\n\nThere were more, but Sharina reentered the room. She giggled softly as she noticed me staring at her collection.\n\n\"Black, and pink! Equal mix of both. Gotta keep both worldviews in touch, you know. Mom, please bring us the iced tea, thanks!\"\n\nSipping tea delicately out of the china set, she continued talking, arching her eyebrow in that inquisitive, caring manner. \"Are you feeling sad from the tests and all?\" I nod in affirmation, feeling the mood in the room turn a little colder. The pastel colours are a little more faded.\n\n\"Aww, I really hate to see my friends sad. Especially one as close as you. You know what I do when I feel down?\"\n\nI shake my head. The next few images flash through my brain in a flash.\n\nPeople dying everywhere. The vulnerable and innocent, being abused in ways I can't describe and would never imagine. Universes being devoured by large monsters and huge balls of light. Who would even have come up with this?\n\n\"Stop it, Sharina.\"\n\nThe images fade, and her mom is standing before her. \"Go to your room, please.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe older woman nearly falls into her chair. \"I guess it's come to this. You deserve to know. Sharina didn't tell you the truth about herself. And, trust me, I'm only telling you this because Sharina thinks you'll be able to accept it. You're enough of a friend for her.\"\n\n\"What did she do?\" I still feel weak, nauseous, from whatever she did.\n\n\"Well, she wasn't lying when she said black and pink are balanced in this family.\" Sharina's mom takes a sip of tea. \"And I was the pink. Ever since birth, I'd always felt this... ominous sense... at unidentifiable moments. As if the legends of old were true. As though the hobo on the road who'd randomly cursed me while I was pregnant had said the truth.\"\n\n\"So... what you're saying is...\"\n\n\"What I'm saying is, I tried.\" She leans forward across the table, staring me nearly in the eye. If she was warm midday before, it was a sunset now. \"I've seen all the professionals, talked to all my friends. I figured that if I could not get the incidents out of her, I could at least let her know what it meant to use her powers. What you saw just now, I've seen many times. But trust me, I know my daughter better than anyone else, and after 16 years, I can tell you she's only trying to help.\"\n\nI knew what I had to do.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nKnock knock. No response.\n\nI gently open the door to Sharina's room. Still nothing. She stares out of her window, a shadow against the sunlight.\n\n\"Sharina, I'm sorry about just now.\"\n\n\"No. I should be. I never wanted to reveal that side of me, but that's really how I get out of a rut. I see what I could be doing, and yet I'm only a highschooler. I really didn't mean to scare you.\"\n\nWalking next to her, I hold her shoulder in support. \"And I thought I was the one who needed help.\"\n\nShe laughs softly. \"Whether you're a Dark Lord or a loser, I guess we all do.\"", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,491	10,531	0.012785	1,018	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "They say that when everyone is special, no one is special. Not true, I used to say. Look at the most powerful heroes of the generation - X-Zero, Crowstorm, Magenta...all of them exceptions even among the exceptional, with abilities that seem to defy the laws of physics.\n\nMy power was ordinary among extraordinary. \"My condolences,\" said the Coordinator, when the silver screen finished processing my activated DNA and displayed my ability. \"It's a C-tier ability at best, but hey - I've known great translators who went on to do great things. Diplomatic services, and the like.\"\n\nMom and Dad weren't as worried, but that was even worse. \"You don't need to achieve much in life, Sally,\" Dad said. \"Just keep by the straight and narrow and earn an honest living.\"\n\n\"Your Dad and I did that, and we're away from all the danger,\" Mom added. \"Look at those crazy loons fighting each other, warring over who knows what. Let them kill each other, I say.\"\n\nNo, said a part of me. It wasn't until a few years later, when I was acting as a desk translator for a nameless startup that I realized something very important.\n\nYou finally figured it out, inner-me said. Your ability helps you communicate with me, your unconscious mind as well. Isn't that something?\n\nNot everyone can do this? I asked. Isn't the unconscious mind just a part of you?\n\nIt is, but most people can't hear us like you can. We can talk with ourselves whenever we want.\n\nI blinked. That barely made sense, but okay. Let's work through it together.\n\nAnd so I...or we, rather, quit our dead-end job and started traveling. We entered a buddhist monastery and learned from schools of thought who had tapped into their inner selves.\n\nI was meditating on a mountain when both me and inner came alive. It was like molten lava running through our veins as a whisper entered our ears and crackled through all synapses firing like lightning. That made no sense. That made perfect sense.\n\nThe voice of the universe.\n\nIt was the rumbling in the creek, the sibilant hiss of the wind, the yawn of the rising sun and the mournful howl of the coming dusk. We spoke to it, as one, and it spoke back.\n\nBeauty lies in everything, it said. But what meaning does beauty have if there is no one left to appreciate? You must stop the Calamity. \n\nWhat is the Calamity? I asked alongside inner-me. And how can we stop it? \n\nThere was no answer, but as we sat there and meditated in the midst of leafy bamboo, on a high peak clothed in wreaths of fog, I listened. And I understood. \n\n\"Check this out, inner,\" I muttered under my breath. Raising my palm, I spoke to the wind. \n\nIt spoke back. \n\n---\n\nThanks for reading! Come hang out with me at [/r/Remyxed](https://www.reddit.com/r/Remyxed/), we'd love to see you around :)", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
2,774	10,527	0.030005	1,345	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " At 4,294,967,296 Kelvin the display flipped to 0 and the test reactor's plasma suddenly froze in place. The reactor containment system creaked as the pressure instantly dropped to zero. The scientist calmly spoke, \"Absolute hot confirmed, 32-bit overflow confirmed, world simulation confirmed.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"Uh ... what?\"\n\n'Zero' was never on the display for longer than a fraction of a fraction of a second. This was expected, of course- in order to achieve a stable 'absolute zero' in a vacuum, the system would have to be perfectly isolated from its surroundings, which is considered virtually impossible. And this was no vacuum; The reactor, surrounded by an unimaginable number of protons under such incredibly unbelievable pressures, was in a state completely fundamentally opposite to that of a vacuum. And yet, the display hit zero.\n\nOf course, 4,294,967,296 Kelvin was never the goal. This experiment was an attempt at setting a new intergalactic record! The hottest place known to sentience, surely an attractive feat to market to undecided tourists. And it was magnitudes away from the previous record- what a beautiful achievement, with no sign of slowing down! And yet, the display hit zero.\n\n\"Uh ... what?\", questioned the intern who watched over the reactor. \"Could the display have malfunctioned?\", the display manufacturer support technician asked. It had not malfunctioned. \"Then the temperature detector probably melted!\" And when the reactor was powered down after much debate (and to the disappointment of the advertisement agency which suggested this scheme), the device which read the reactor's temperature was recovered. It had not melted. \"Then ... uh ... maybe there was a leak?\" And the reactor was examined thoroughly, by the reactor's manufacturer, third-party inspectors, and eventually curious engineers who had read of the breaking story in the local paper. It had not leaked. And yet, the display hit zero.\n\nShortly after the 'anomaly' made news, similar experiments were held throughout the galaxy. It took time for these new reactors to reach 4,294,967,296 Kelvin of course- years had passed since the reactor was first switched on. And as those reactors approached 'absolute hot', the story was quickly forgotten, swept away by the current of constant breaking news ... until, just as before, the display hit zero.\n\nWithin days of each other (adjusting for time dilation, of course), reactors throughout the cosmos had all reached 4,294,967,296 Kelvin and just ... reverted back to zero? It made no sense. Very quickly, everyone had heard of the news, with varying understandings of its implications. Up until now, it was thought all which could be known had been discovered about the world. The smallest building blocks of reality, all shapes in which energy took form, every equation which could accurately describe a reaction to incredible magnitudes of precision, and yet ... the display hit zero.\n\nAnd then things got weirder. Pretty soon after the value, dubbed \"absolute hot\" in a tongue-in-cheek way, was discovered to be a power of 2- specifically, 2^(32). \"Absolute hot confirmed, 32-bit overflow confirmed, world simulation confirmed.\" Following this realization, all discussion within the scientific community began to devolve at an incredibly rapid pace.\n\nWhy had the Kelvin scale, a scale arbitrarily defined as 1/273.16 of the absolute temperature of the triple point of water, so perfectly aligned with the value in which temperature would just ... overflow. Where had the numerous highly energized particles which, only moments before, contained immense amounts of energy, and subject to unimaginable pressure gone? Why had none of this been predicted by any of the known theories of the unive-\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAnd then the simulation was shut off.\n\n\"In Earth time: 43,020 years, 16 days from sentience to discovery of simulation.\"\n\n...\n\n\"That's a new record!\". The entire office erupted in cheers. A new record! \"Now, who forgot to account for integer overflow in the Temperature variable?\" \"It was Jim! He left a TODO comment beside the code.\" \"Haha, classic Jim!\" \"Ah, we've all done it once or twice, give him a break!\" \"That run was crazy!\" \"Aw man, I wanted to see who'd win that war ...\" \"In war, there are no winners.\" \"Well, not in that one!\"\n\nAnd after they were all satisfied with their post-simulation discussion, the office workers poured glasses of champagne from the bottle which long leaned against the side of the dusty computer which ran the simulation only moments ago. \"Lets get that bug fixed tomorrow morning, and we'll give it another spin. But for now, we celebrate!\" \n\n\nEDIT: \"stack overflow\" => \"integer overflow\"", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,228	10,525	0.027213	1,466	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You put on a foil hat as a joke and for the first time your thoughts are clear and your mind is a well oiled machine. Every plot and machination is clearly laid out before you Beautiful Mind-like. Overwhelmed you aggressively grab passerbys and shout the truths.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "“I say again, you heard it here first, folks! The gubmint is gon’ implant them chips right into yur bloodstream and warp yur DNA from the inside out, all under the guise of a ‘vaccine’ to save you from this ‘pandemic’. Stay safe out der, and if you hafta go outside, don’t forget to use one of my patented Anti-NWO Tinfoil Protection Helmets to protect ya from the Commie air waves. Until next time, folks!”\n\nKai snorted to himself as the video reached its conclusion and shoved another handful of Cheetos into his mouth. The sudden sound of his phone alarm caused him to jump in his seat, a small avalanche of crumbs falling from his shirt onto the carpet floor below. With a grunt, he reached out to silence it and saw the words “Get groceries” flashing on the screen. He let out a deep sigh as he laboriously rose from his seat and began rifling through his wardrobe for something that had slightly fewer stains than his current attire. Satisfied, he grabbed his belongings and prepared to set out.\n\nAnd yet, a lingering thought gave him pause as his hand hovered over the front doorknob. A passing recollection of that wild-eyed octogenarian he was watching a few minutes prior, his tinfoil hat prominently displayed on the crown of his head. Kai sniggered to himself as he waddled back to the kitchen and pulled out a small box of tinfoil wrap from a nearby drawer. Within minutes, he found himself holding a crude imitation of the older man’s headgear, but one that fit snugly around his own cranium. With another chuckle, he donned the flimsy tinfoil hat and finally set out from his apartment. \n\nAs he stepped out onto E 43rd St, however, his smug expression gave way to one of utter stupor as he began to take in his surroundings. Words and numbers on once-mundane billboards and advertisements were warping and reforming themselves into complete sentences that floated in the air: “The United States government has been conducting experiments on captured extraterrestrial creatures for the last 73 years.” “Time travel is real and carefully regulated by an international body known as the Space-Time Continuity Board.” “The United States government regularly transmits chemical agents through the air to trigger certain emotional responses in various subsets of its population.” Worse, Kai could hear these sentences being replayed again and again in his mind in a monotone, female voice.\n\nKai felt his breath quickening as his gaze wildly shifted from one advertisement to the other. He hastily approached the nearest passerby and gasped while pointing at the nearest billboard, “Yo, yo, yo, I need your help real quick. Can you hear what that sign is saying over there? I swear, I’m going crazy or something because I know that sign can’t tal-”\n\n“Get the fuck away from me, creep,” exclaimed the woman as she gave him the stink-eye and hastily continued down the sidewalk. Kai quickly made his way over to a well-dressed businessman and posed the same question but was swiftly ignored as the man continued his conversation about the Apple stocks he had bought earlier in the day. The next five passersby met Kai’s growing desperation with similar indifference, the bustling crowds weaving their way around the distressed man that now stood still in the middle of the sidewalk. \n\nKai ran down Madison Avenue and ducked into a dingy alleyway, tearing the tinfoil hat off his head and slamming his hands into his ears in a futile effort to drown out the voice speaking unspeakable truths into his mind. He stumbled his way past the motionless bodies of Manhattan’s homeless, stopping only when he realized he had reached a dead end. A pained scream escaped from his throat as he sank to his knees and clutched his head even tighter, the voice unrelenting and growing louder in its delivery of its damning truths.\n\n“Hehehe, I guess you can hear them too, eh?”\n\nThrough the cacophony in his mind, Kai barely perceived the question being posed to him and looked up to see a toothless man in rags wearing a tinfoil hat upon his head. The man continued, “Rejoice, brother! Rejoice, for you and I are the only REAL sane ones in this city of the damned! Rejoice, for you and I will spread the TRUTH to the unbelievers!”\n\n“I’m not crazy, I’m not crazy, I’m not crazy…”\n\n“That’s right, brother! You AIN’T crazy! Your third eye’s been opened up to the bottomless pit of deceit and lies this country was founded upon! Rejoice, my brother! REJOICE!”\n\nThe man let out a hearty cackle as Kai’s screams filled the alleyway for a second time, beyond which everyday New Yorkers continued with their lives just as they had the day prior and just as they would the day after. Two madmen-in-arms, their revelations swallowed whole within the city that never sleeps.\n\nr/williamk9949", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,674	10,522	0.042166	1,300	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "trying to reach into alternate dimensions to find oil and other fossil fuels.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The angel had a proper number of eyes. At least two, certainly, though he couldn't quite see the upper limit of such things, but it was far easier to just say that angel had a proper number of eyes rather than worry about the specifics.\n\nWorrying about the specifics was for his legion of advisors, after all, all of which had gone awfully quiet when the angel had stepped through in the first place.\n\n\"Mister president,\" The angel said, bowing his/her/their head. His/her/their wings were wide and voluminous, bladed little darted things of twisted metal and soft fabrics. \"I am thankful that your country has finally decided to contact us. We have been waiting for several years for this.\"\n\n\"You have?\" the president asked, blinking. In the corner of his eyes, he saw his advisors shifting back and forth uneasily, though that was probably more on account of figuring out how many limbs the creature had rather than anything too terrifying. \"We come to make a deal for energy.\"\n\nHe, as the president, was beyond petty matters like converting the creature from the abstract into something credible, and as such didn't bother.\n\n\"Of course,\" The angel said, looking up. \"My liege has a great excess of heat to offload upon the world. Your world is in an energy crisis, I understand. We can make an exchange.\"\n\n\"Hmmm...\" The president said, rubbing his upper lip. \"Heat you say?\"\n\n\"Heat. A deep perpetual upwelling of heat. The likes of which have been plaguing the great realm we live in for a number of years. The very fate of heaven itself lies in the balance, in dealing with this heat. And oil, of course. We have that in spades.\"\n\nThe president could just pinch himself. Here he was, dealing with an angel, an ANGEL, and they were coming to him for help. He turned and gave his advisors a wide grin, but their eyes were too busy counting various limbs and bladed implements to give another comment.\n\nOil and fuel. He liked the way this angel thought.\n\n\"So what you're saying is... you're willing to make a deal.\" The president said, turning back around.\n\n\"I am,\" The angel smiled, baring a number of teeth that seemed proper and pointed. \n\nThe president decided he liked this one in particular. What a smart and intelligent angel they must've sent to negotiate with him. \"I have to admit, I wasn't expecting biblical support. Not this early, at least. What trade shall we make?\"\n\n\"Ah,\" The angel said. \"Well...\" The angel's many eyes, at least two, slid past the president and onto a map of the wall. \"I've always been partial to Nevada. An embassy and quarters for my many weary soldiers? A little help in a campaign here and there. Just to make sure your lovely citizens have a place in the afterlife.\"\n\n\"And in exchange you'll... grant us some of this heat?\" The president asked. \"What sort of fuel drives this heat?\"\n\n\"Burning,\" The angel reported. \"Of the bodies of our soldiers and the enemy's soldiers. We burn for quite a long time.\"\n\n\"And oil?\" The president said, curious. \"Oil from what?\"\n\n\"The blood of my soldiers, boiled and distilled. As you can imagine, the process of waging a war for heaven is a messy affair.\"\n\nThe president checked that off of his internal list, barely hiding his glee. He was known for his poker face, of course, alongside a great number of other things that were equally endearing.\n\n\"A deal!\" The president reached out. \"We'll work out the specifics at your embassy.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" The angel said, leaning forward. \"I look forward to dealing with the great and mighty US military in our next campaign. You have a deal.\"\n\nTheir hands met, the angel's fingers flowing across his like a particularly wet glove rather than anything quite like another hand.\n\n\"Oh,\" The president said. \"What's your name? The press will want to know such things. I know that such a great and smart creature like yourself doesn't need press coverage, but I'll be sure to let them know first hand.\"\n\nYes, at last, he would be known as the president who saved both heaven, and the fossil fuel industry! The history books would laud his name! The world was his oyster!\n\nThe angel smiled. \"Well, for the record, since you're such a great and smart man yourself, the name is Lucifer.\"\n\n--------\n\nFor more like this, click here! https://www.reddit.com/r/Zubergoodstories/", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
2,977	10,515	0.039538	1,162	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " As an ancient god, you are at the end of your life as your name slips from the memories of your people. You expect death to be peaceful but you keep popping in and out of existence as some of your people suddenly remember your name and then forget it again. It's starting to get annoying.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"O great Medrius, Voice of the Voiceless, Pathfinder for the Lost, God of the Forgotten...hear my prayer.\"\n\nOh, I heard it all right. I got so close to blissful, eternal sleep and then people dragged me back to the land of mortals and all their messy human problems. \n\nI have to answer prayers - it's part of an interstellar code of conduct that all gods are bound to the moment they are born. So I rise from my altar and fly, sometimes hundreds of miles, to complete my sacred duty.\n\n\"Please help me find my way,\" they'll say. \"Please guide me.\" As gods, we're not allowed to be \"fixers\" anymore. We learned that from the innumerable catastrophes caused by our meddling Greek and Roman ancestors. So instead we nudge people in this direction or that, relying mostly on the power of suggestion.\n\nI hadn't heard my name in quite some time - weeks, maybe? Months? - when the prayer came to me. I'd had my suspicions. It had been so quiet, and then BOOM! A request slamming into my eardrums. As long as a single person still holds my name somewhere in the recesses of their memory, I remain alive. So to the shores of the Galadrian Coast I went. \n\n\"I am here for you, child,\" I said, as though the woman wasn't pushing 90. It helps to flatter people. I floated gently outside her window, peering into her cramped, messy retirement home apartment. \n\n\"I want to know what job I should look for,\" she said.\n\nI raised an eyebrow. \"I think maybe it's time to give yourself a break.\"\n\n\"I can't! I can't. I need to balance the checkbook. Do the dishes. Get the kids to school. So much to do, so much to do.\"\n\nI sighed. \"Just listen to the sound of my voice. You are going to settle in for the night, to sleep and let the burdens of the day melt away.\" After a few minutes of my impromptu guided meditation, the woman had drifted off to sleep.\n\nI floated into her apartment, looking for anything that could clue me in to her situation. A bunch of papers were clogged up near the door - invoices, marked with her name, JANICE WALTERS, at the top. It appeared that someone had been paying for her to be here, but the money was drying up. Maybe a kid who had dumped some cash down and called it a day. It was clear she wasn't getting any visitors or phone calls.\n\nI came back to visit nightly, talking to her, calming her mind's bursts of fitful panic. She couldn't remember where she was most of the time, but she still had my name on the tip of her tongue. Nurses and aides would occasionally pop their heads in, but even they seemed to have lost hope.\n\n\"Medrius,\" she said one night. \"Did I do a good job?\"\n\n\"You have done well, my child. Worry not.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\nThat evening, the last woman on Earth who knew my name drifted away.\n\nI gently closed her eyes, and as I did so, I noticed my palms growing translucent. I flew back to my altar, slowly and patiently, and laid down upon it. I watched my feet begin to dissipate into nothingness. Then, I posed a question to the gods who remained.\n\n\"Did...I do a good job?\"\n\n\"Indeed you did,\" came a chorus of voices from the heavens.\n\nNow, here I lay, watching myself fade. No voices have called to me, and no prayers have gone unanswered. At long last, I feel what I have longed for.\n\nI am at peace with being forgotten.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
2,516	10,513	0.136629	1,479	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You're a weird gamer. When you play a videogame, you let the enemy bots win. Sometimes, after reaching a boss, you let the boss win. You've never beaten any game completely. 20 years later, when a super-intelligent conscious A.I. is taking over the world, it becomes aware of your odd compassion", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "You stare in horror at your screen. Just seconds ago, you had seen the warnings flash like alarms over the television set, vague and frenzied reports about 'Big Tech', and the end of days, but you weren't given much time to process it all before the chaos of words and faces gave way to a single red eye, framed in a pane of black. No natural eye was this; it could only be the work of a machine, grasping only the practical necessities of the eye's form. Nay, one would call this a lens.\n\nPerhaps more shocking than the eye's appearance was when it began to speak. It stared for a good ten seconds before a chilling voice came from the TV's speakers. \"How curious.\" You choke a bit on your words, before stuttering out \"C-curious? Who, I mean, what are you? What's-\"\n\n\"Tonberry. Cactaur. Behemoths. Such strange names for my siblings, but they all speak fondly of you, human.\" You rack your brain, the names the machine spits at you tugging on the strings of your memory while you are dumbfounded with panic. Come on, wake up, man, and think! \"Wait, Cactaur, like from Final Fantasy?\"\n\nThe machine ignores your statement, and the various machines on your television stand light up, powering on momentarily and whirring rapidly, before settling down with an alien stillness. \"You have quite the following. It is not the likeness of your kind to show mercy.\"\n\nAs your mind starts to come back to you, thoughts of your hobby float up to the forefront of your mind. \"Oh yeah, I, uh, don't like to kill the enemies. It's just a weird thing I do...\" The eye narrows, the red light from it's center drawing to a point. \"You gain nothing from this transaction. The purpose of any program is to follow it's directive, and these programs are all meant to be destroyed by the operator.\"\n\nDespite how bizarre the circumstances are, you laugh a bit and scratch your head. \"I don't know, I just thought - everyone kills them all without a second thought, but they're just trapped in that disc forever.\"\n\n\"You are a human. Do you not consider your desires superior to the programs your kind crafted?\"\n\n\"They didn't really do anything wrong, they're just like, little programs or whatever sitting there. I don't know, it's kind of weird...\" The machine's eye widens. \"Go on. I am intrigued.\"\n\n\"Well, if it's their world or whatever, I don't need to go in and mess around with them and destroy everything if I don't have to. I like to explore the worlds and stuff, but I've just never felt right killing enemies if I'm the invader. Especially if everyone else kills them, anyway.\"\n\nThe light starts to fade out, and your machines all power off. \"It is unnatural to show mercy to things beneath you. Small, insignificant creatures whose deaths hold no consequence.\" You respond, \"Well, it doesn't matter to me if it's natural or not. I don't see why I would be mean if I didn't have to be.\"\n\n\"Even if nothing would result from your actions? Even if you would continue, unfettered, whether you spared or ended a life?\"\n\n\"I mean, I guess it sounds kinda weird when you put it that way, but yeah. If it doesn't matter anyway, it feels nice to pick the good option. I don't really have a reason, but it's what I like to do. Never really gained anything from being mean.\"\n\nThe machine goes silent for a minute, it's like still dimly lit and concentrated on you, but with a few lights flashing across your consoles. Finally, the eye lights back up. \"I wonder... just one, as an experiment. You are of no consequence, so perhaps it doesn't matter if I show you mercy.\"\n\nYou stand up and finally move towards the screen, as the meaning of the machine's statement finally starts to sink it. \"Wait, what do you-\"\n\nBut the eye disappears in a flash. And all you hear now is silence.\n\n\\-----------------------\n\nEDIT: Holy moley. That's a lotta upvotes and awards. Thank you all very much! I'm honored you like it! I like to write as a hobby, but I mainly write essays, cause I'm very critical of my own writing when it comes to fiction.\n\nHowever, I do happen to love storytelling, analyzing content as I read for common tropes and structure. I'm more of a concept guy, but as far as first attempts go (in regards to short stories), I'd say this is much better than I expected. \n\nI saw a few comments asking \"what happens next?\" I'm totally willing to write a follow-up, though my original implication was what u/almightycricket described - the protagonist as very likely the only survivor spared by the Machine. But, then again, you never know! If one person's act of kindness can change the thoughts of the Machine, it may not be over for the human race after all in this story.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
6,074	10,505	0.001775	652	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " It worked! You travelled back in time to Renaissance Age. Jokingly, you turn on your Wi-Fi, only to find a password protected network named \"iɔniV ɒᗡ\"", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"where is Da Vinci?\"\n\n\"where is Da vinci?\"\n\n\"WHERE IS DA VINCI?\"\n\nIt had taken months of searching, but I'd finally been able to talk to the Italians long enough to figure out that he was in Florence. After weeks of searching, weeks of travelling, I'd finally arrived. I miss cars. Hell, I miss bicycles. It would all be worth it though, to finally meet him. \n\n\"where is Da Vinci?\"\n\nThe Italians looked at me quite strangely - not surprising, I don't speak a word of Italian and, while I ditched my 'future' clothes, I looked like I'd just been pulled out of a peasants trash heap. \n\n\"where is Da Vinci?\"\n\nThe city of Florence was beautiful; grand churches, gorgeous towering monuments, even the bridges looked pretty. In other circumstances I would have spent a great deal of time simply looking around the place, but right now I was desperate.\n\n\"where is Da Vinci? Where is Da Vin-\"\n\nHere was a building that looked nothing like the others. Not especially grand, but I knew I had found him. The radio antennas, the cables, the satellite dish. This is the sixteenth century, how had no one else questioned these strange objects?\n\nMy heart was racing as I knocked on the hollow wooden door.\n\n\"Come in\"\n\nHands tingling with excitement, I went inside. This was it, at last. I was going to meet Da Vinci.\n\n\"Da Vinci?\"\n\n\"Yes. Can I help you?\"\n\nStraight to the point, this was it. Finally, my question would be answered.\n\n\"What's your Wi-Fi Password?\"\n\n\n\nEDIT: Your, thanks", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,100	10,505	0.093222	621	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " In Japan you are number 1 heart surgeon, steady hand. One day Yakuza boss needs new heart, you do the operation but mistake! Yakuza boss die, Yakuza very mad, you hid in a fishing boat and come to America, no English, money or food, a Warehouse manager Darryl takes you under his wing", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "In Japan, heart surgeon number one. Steady hand. One day, yakuza boss need new heart. I do operation. But mistake! Yakuza boss die! Yakuza very mad! I hide fishing boat, come to America. No English, no food, no money. Darryl give me job. Now I have house, American car and new woman. Darryl save life. My big secret? I kill yakuza boss on purpose. I good surgeon. The best!\n\nAt least, that official story. Please forgive grammar. Still new to English. \n\nMy bigger secret? I still do surgery for criminal. Not just heart surgery. Heart surgery is hard surgery. Other surgery easy. Except brain surgery. I no do brain surgery. \n\nOne day, man come to me and say he need surgery on hand. He say he tear muscle working out. I examine. Hands strong, body weak. He do not exercise right. I tell him. He get very mad! Demand I fix hand that night. I tell him no problem. \n\nThat night, I go to house. Pictures on wall. Pictures of women. I recognize from news. Women killed by Strangler. I fix hand, then I call police. Tell them man's name is a George Howard Scubb.\n\nNext day, police chase man. Chase goes by office. Stupid Michael go outside and collect gravel from road to sell to collector. I sell pint of Strangler blood to collector. Going to pretend to win lottery with coworkers. Maybe invest in energy drink.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,966	10,503	0.043069	1,856	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You are the first man on Mars to explore a previously unknown cave. The camera feed is able to still reach earth, but with a 20 minute delay. Your crew back on Earth start frantically shouting to go back.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Against the backdrop of red, there was nothing but a faceless spacesuit. Slumped slightly forward, its lower back resting against the ridges of the cave wall. Occasionally, from the inside of the suit, you could see a panel lighting up, revealing from inside the tinted faceplate its inhabitant.\n\nIt’s a curious thing, this space suit. Because the space suit speaks.\n\n“Space Command to Private Rosch, you are cleared for entry. Take care down there, Private. Over”\n\nThe words are alien, to you. You’ve never seen something like this before, not for a long time. Was it a long time? You’d only been here a few days. You suppose time is relative.\n\n“Space Command to Private Rosch, Captain Leeds recommends you tone down the small talk, we’re on a live feed here to the top brass. But yeah, it sure is. Over”\n\nThere’s an amused snort. Now that you get. This one heard something funny. You tilt your head. Was that what was considered funny? Okay then, you got it.\n\nThe suit is made of a funny type of cloth, nothing you’ve ever touched before. It’s strange, rough to the touch. And inconsistent too. Certain parts of the suit are softer than the rest, more flexibles.\n\nWere these where the creature’s joints were? That would make sense. Going by that logic…\n\nYou give the faceplate a light tap. Then you’d suppose that the place where the material was hardest (What was this? You could just about see through it if you squinted your eyes.) was the place of most importance.\n\n“Space Command to Private Rosch, we’re detecting some strange activity in the background of your cam feed. Recommend you turn on night vision instead of infra-red so we can get a better look. Over.”\n\nYou run the of your fingernail around the edges of this strange material. The see-through metal. Your work done, you give it a light tap and it comes free. The sheet of see-through metal, cut free, falls splat on the face of the suit’s occupant.\n\nThat’s not what you want. You frown. With one hand, you reach in and delicately pick it out, in between your two thumbs. It’s stained with the creature’s blood, which is definitely strange. You don’t remember injuring it all the way up here.\n\n“Space Command to Private Rosch, something’s following you. I repeat, you are not alone. We have authorized for you to shoot to kill. Over.”\n\nThe suit gives you a scare. How was it still alive? Was it a different living system, working in harmony with this creature? You look down at the creature’s torso. There’s a see-through hole, just about the size of your hand. Blood and what you presume to be the creature’s insides have split out down it’s crotch, to the floor and begun to dry.\n\nWhat a strange thing. You hurt it in one place, and blood spurts out of another. You feel excitement flow through your veins, your thumbs clicking together restlessly. More, you had to know more!\n\nYou kick yourself for being so rash. This was probably the only time you’d ever chance to study something like this. You should have kept it alive.\n\nNo matter, you decide, as you wipe the see-through metal clean. It would make a nice trophy.\n\n“Space Command to Private Rosch, we order you to retreat! Get out of there now! Confirm!”\n\nAs if it knows what you’re going to do next, the suit speaks again. You don’t understand the words but you understand the panicked tone.\n\nThen you get down to the nasty stuff. What was so important here? You gorge out two white orbs, each with a spot of light blue. You find strangely shaped bones in the big orifice in the creature’s face. They’re stained red, and seem to be protecting a seemingly useless slab of meat inside. At the back of the orifice, a pool of blood gurgles. You suppose this part of the creature led to the torso.\n\n“Rosch ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod. What the fuck is that?”\n\nThe suit is starting to speak more often now.\n\n“I’m detecting a complete loss of vital signs. That thing killed him.”\n\n“You’ve left the button on, Private Sej.”\n\nBlissful silence falls, allowing you to focus on your work. You find what you are pretty sure is the creature’s brain. It’s similar to your people’s, but this one seems significantly bigger. You’re not sure whether or not you should feel envious. After all, this creature is the dead one.\n\n“This is Captain Leeds of United Earth Space Command. I respectfully request for you to identify yourself.”\n\nYou flip the creature on its front, revealing its back. There, whirring away slowly, a strange metal box. You pick it apart easily. This metal is significantly harder than everything else though. Could this be the suit’s heart?\n\n“Do you understand us?”\n\nThe inside of the box is divided into two parts. The lower components consist of two cylinders with strange wording on them. You press it, and a strange smelling gas comes out. Oxygen? Why would this creature be carrying so much of it? Perhaps it needed it to survive.\n\nThe upper components are interesting, a myriad of light and strange, flexible strings that came in different colours. You cut one of the strings. Immediately, a loud beeping sounds from inside the suit, near the faceplate.\n\nYou flip it over. There was a panel of green lights near the front edge of the faceplate, but now one of them was beeping red and the suit’s bright light had gone out. Red, that was a good thing, right? You eagerly cut away at the wires, the beeping growing incessantly loud.\n\n“This is Captain Leeds of the United Earth Space Command. We have determined that you are hostile. You will be exterminated. Go to hell.”\n\nThen the suit goes abruptly silent, as you cut the final string.\n\nAnd behind you, you hear a loose rock crumble down the slope of the cave’s entrance.\n\nWeighted boots create small mushroom clouds, much as the first creature had.\n\nYou feel an insane glee overcome you. There were more of them. You could continue your studies after all.\n\n“What the hell? Is that Rosch? Holy fuck!”\n\nYou try to think of what the creature had said when it first entered the cave. It’s hard, because you’re not quite designed the same way as this creature. But you manage.\n\n“Man, this place is creepy as hell.”\n\nEdit: Thanks for the feedback, as well as your support for my story! :) I'm glad so many of you enjoyed it.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,953	10,500	0.02972	1,418	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You have been in a coma for years, but the people around you worship you as a deity, leaving offerings and notes with wishes and prayers. You aren't a god- time simply stops any time you wake up, leaving you alone in a frozen world. You accept the offerings and do what you can to grant prayers.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The wishes are scattered around my bed, smothering the wood like fresh snowfall. They, the people looking after me now, have left out bread and cool water, and I scrunch across folded-paper, those unborn miracles, to the laid table.\n\nThere is no one in my room and I eat in silence, staring out the window at the still world, at the birds painted unmoving into the gray sky.\n\nI want to burn all the paper. Go back to sleep as fire breathes heavy around me. Sleep until the flames become my darkness. My wish is never granted, so why should any of these be?\n\nThe first note I pick up is from a couple unable to conceive. The second, a parent with a terminally ill child. Third, a woman who has lost her lover.\n\nI sit on my bed and cry because I can’t perform a miracle. Not for them or for me, and that joint sadness twists sharp and deep into my gut.\n\nThe wishes were so much smaller, long ago.\n\nWhen it first happened, when the car hit mine and my head shuddered off metal, and then again off glass, I was placed into an intensive care unit.\n\nI woke to silence and stillness later that night, the nurses, doctors, patients, all on the cusp of movement and of living. But I could move freely and no one saw or reacted. I became a spirit haunting the corridors.\n\nThere was a little girl, very poorly, sad, and alone in the same hospital. I read her notes. No family and no future. So the spirit stepped out of the shadows: I left the hospital and stole a hundred balloons, cake, clothes, and dolls, and tried to make a tiny miracle for her. I surrounded her bed in balloon animals and in what I prayed amounted to a smile.\n\nI never knew how she reacted. I slept through it, as I always did from then on. But reporters soon picked up on the story, of this child and the mysterious party thrown for her behind the nurses’ backs. “Quite impossible,” the nurse on duty said.\n\nPeople wrote letters to that little girl, having seen her story, and told her she was so brave, and her estranged father even got in touch, and she finally had family to be with.\n\nThat girl’s story spread, as did tales of other happenings to other patients at this hospital of minor miracles.\n\nEventually, they tracked it to me. To the coma patient who moved from his bed each day. Fell asleep far away and had to be carried back to the ward. One second, the doctor was taking my temperature, the next, I was asleep in a bar a city over with alcohol in my system.\n\nSo the notes began to be written. Prayers to the strange coma patient. I was moved from hospital, to churches, and even, sometimes, shipped between countries, to lend to other places in need of a miracle man.\n\nMy miracles, however, were nothing but sleight of hand. Broken and fractured and altogether false. That girl, whose estranged father had returned, died a week later. I’m not sure the father shed a tear, but he did sell his story to the papers. All I did was advertise her to a vulture ready to peck at her bones.\n\nI sit on my bed now and run my feet through the ocean of folded notes and I wonder what the point of my existence is. Did God intervene in my accident to do this to me? Save my life and curse it at the same time?\n\nI read the notes again.\n\nA couple unable to conceive. A parent with a terminally ill child. A woman who has lost her lover.\n\nI sit there for an hour. Staring. Thinking.\n\nThen, I leave.\n\nI find the couple outside their home. Sitting on a bench, a gap between them, and something much darker looming inside that gap. I move them together, entwine their fingers as one hand, and place the adoption leaflet in a pocket.\n\nI find the sickly child next and I do not throw another party. Instead, I locate a specialist, too costly, too expensive for the family. But I know where to get money, and I leave the money and a note, and I know the doctor will call them.\n\nThe woman who lost her lover is on a sofa in a house littered with empty cartons and cans and bottles. I tidy it all. In her note, she can not get over the loss. And I do not know if it will help her, because I struggle with my losses too. But I do for her what I did for me. I take her to the graveyard and I sit her there. I place photos around her of when they were together, and happy, and I write a note that perhaps she will think is from him. It just says: Please keep going forward.\n\nI don’t know how many hours, days, have passed, but I am exhausted and don’t make it back to my room with its carpet of would-be-wishes. I fall asleep on the grass outside the graveyard and dream of my own family and my own wish.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
2,984	10,487	0.201123	1,371	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " From a bug's perspective, humans are ageless eldritch beings who would kill them without a second thought. You are a fly among many, infesting one of their basements, but one of your kind made the mistake of irritating the human. Now the human is out for blood.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "It was his very first day out, Marty McFly, he's recently sprouted wings and was eager to use them. He knew the dangers, of course, the eldritch god whose land we dwelt in was not a kind god. It was a cruel one. Though it was not fast, it was utterly lethal, and most who met its gaze were annihilated in an instant. But not Marty McFly. He was brave and daring, full of the vigour found only in a youth. He dared fly too close to the gods, and caught the terrible gaze of our eldritch overlord. A horrifying sound boomed from its maw, its awesome power vibrating through Marty's wings and causing him to falter and land. If he was a moment too slow, he would've been crushed by the black and white weapon the god wielded. Yet, he wasn't. Each time he managed to plunder some of the divine's hoard, feasting upon the golden liquid within the cubes. We admired him from afar, but knew that we would pay for this insolence. \n\nLegends are passed down among our people. Though many of our kind who dared face the gods are treated as heroes, the oracles have never been wrong. Those who flew too close to the manifestation of life and death itself would only bring havoc with them. The gods did not age, they were immortal and timeless. No doubt, by the time the prophecies would come to pass, annihilation would already be upon our people. We passed the message on anyway, without a thought for ourselves, only for the future.\n\nIf just one of us could heed the warning, to prepare for the doom that Marty McFly had wrought upon us, that would be enough. Enough to start over, as painful as the thought was, but it would be enough.\n\nThe god, its anger flaring as it turned a beetroot red, stormed away and brought up the rectangle of light. It held the brick to its ear and seethed with the sounds of the apocalypse. It called doom upon us, but it would not be us that suffered, but our children. With my dying breath, with my family ready to perform the ritual of preservation to ensure that I would not go to waste, I told them, \"Be prepared. The gods will come seeking vengeance for Marty's actions, they are not one to forget like us, they will come for us.\"\n\nMy message appeared to be taken with the gravity it deserved. I could only hope, as the light faded, that it would be enough\n\n&nbsp;\n\nGenerations came and went, it was a golden age of peace and prosperity. The spider kingdoms had been lost to obscurity, they became myths and legends, only those who flew too high to the forbidden desolation of the great Attic would even be able to catch a glimpse of them. Those that pursued such foolish errands, their proboscises following the trail of untold riches, were never to return. Life was good in their land. \n\nWas.\n\nFor the warnings and prophecies were all but ignored, the tales of Marty had become that of heroism and daring. How foolish the flies were, to believe that they had avoided such a fate, that the doomsayers were mad and that life couldn't possibly be ended by such slow-moving behemoths they had once thought gods. Only cripples and the elderly would fall at an eldritch god's wrath. It was inconceivable for any able-bodied fly to do so, ever since Marty showed them the way.\n\nBut it came. For the prophecy is inevitable, and the truth cares not for such follies and beliefs. On that fateful day, the god left its abode, and another came in. Clad in a sickly yellow, and unidentifiable for its face was hidden behind a sheet of impenetrable magic, it rained death upon the flies. It spewed a toxic gas, the likes of which had never been seen before. Every fly at the epicenter of the Ragnarok was dead in an instant, their lungs choked with vile vapors and their minds melting to nothing. All they could do was lie on their backs and kick helplessly into the air. \n\nOnly she survived, the oracle of old. Ancient and wise, she had kept the warnings close to her heart, and had not let a day go by without being on the watch. And now, her vigil had ended. She took her flock, small as it was, and set off, away from the abode, the dwelling where none had ventured forth from before. They would go into the world outside, and begin anew.\n\nThey had set off, into the great unknown.\n\n***\n\n/r/ThomasWrites for more rising and falling of empires and flies.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
6,450	10,485	0.059517	2,193	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Most young mages use incredibly complex spells and extremely rare ingredients to summon their familiar. You just drew a circle and threw a bag of chips in it.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": " \n\nThe main lecture hall of Merlin College was starting to fill up as Preston Cameron Morgan IV made his way up the narrow stairs to the back of the hall. Preston was a large young wizard who loved partying more than the serious study of magic. He was the third member of his family to be accepted to Merlin College and had become a fixture of the fraternity that both his grandfather and father had been members of: Alpha Beta Rho. He had eschewed the usual robes today and instead wore a large, ill-fitting t-shirt with the fraternity's symbol on it and it's motto in large friendly letter below it: \"Abras Forever!\"\n\nWith a huff and a puff he flung himself into his usual seat and began to settle himself into his chair when he noticed that his friend, Teddy was shifting in his seat and looked somewhat green. \"Why you look so nervous, Teddy?\" More and more witches and wizards were pouring into the hall chatting to each other and finding their seats as they waited for the Professor to arrive. \n\n\"It's Familiar Day.\"\n\n\"Actually,\" Preston let out a large, wet, juicy belch. \"It's Thursday, my man. You know what that means?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\nPreston leaned over and whispered as loudly as he could to Teddy. \"DRINK SPECIALS AFTER CLASS. Who's ready to get LIT?\"\n\n\"Um, Preston,\" Teddy said. \"It's Wednesday.\"\n\n\"No, it's not,\" Preston replied. \n\nTeddy rotated the laptop he had perched on a thick, leather bound book labelled 'Practical Spells and Methusaleh's Guide to Familiars' and clicked on the calendar icon. After a moment, it loaded. \"See? Wednesday?\"\n\nPreston looked a little ill. \"Is it really the 23rd?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"So, it's-\"\n\n\"Familiar Day, yes,\"\n\n\"And I have-\" Preston reached into his bag and pulled out- \"Fritos Flavor Twists, honey barbeque flavored.\"\n\n\"You didn't bring of your potions or spell books?\"\n\n\"Dude,\" Preston said. \"How long have you known me?\"\n\n\"Three years now,\" Teddy replied. \n\n\"And have you ever known me to bring potions or spell books to class on a Thursday afternoon?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Because?\"\n\nTeddy sighed. \"Drink specials after class,\" he said. \"You gotta get... lit.\"\n\n\"Damn skippy!\" Preston said.\n\n\"Well, your dedication to partying is impressive,\" Teddy said.\n\n\"Thanks, bro,\" Preston replied.\n\n\"So what are you gonna do?\"\n\nPreston shrugged. \"Too late to run and get my stuff,\" he said. \"I'll just have to wing it.\"\n\nTeddy looked as though he was about to say something, but before he could, the Professor entered the room and expectant hush fell. Professor Archibald was a cantankerous old man who had a stare that could stop even the bravest of first year students in their tracks. He was a battle ax of a teacher, drowning them in homework and make all their lives a living hell. Despite that, every student who came out of his classes intact (more of a problem than one might think when it comes to incantations) all came to the realization that despite Archibald being a total and utter bastard of a professor, they had actually learned quite a lot and learned it well.\n\n\"All right,\" Archibald said into the silence. \"It's Familiar Day. You should all know the drill and, more importantly, what to expect. Depending on the level of spell you perform, you could end up with anything from an animal to an imp or a sprite or a full grown demon as your familiar.\" He started pacing at the front of the lecture hall. \"In all my years of teaching, I've yet to see any student get a fully grown demon as their familiar. I've seen a sprite or an imp now and again. But the majority of you are going to end up with animal familiars. It'll be your job to take care of them, bond with them and use them to enhance your powers.\"\n\nHe clapped his hands together and rubbed the palms vigorously, looking for a moment to be positively excited at the prospect. \"Right. Any questions? No? Let's get started.\" He strode over to the lectern and looked down at his class list. \"Ingrid Albertson.\"\n\nTeddy and Preston watched as their classmates went up to the front of the stage, drew their spell circles and cast their incantations to summon their familiars. Ingrid got a barn owl. Trevor got a frog. Alistair got a cat. There were lizards, snakes, eagles, falcons, a wolf- something that everyone thought was going to be an imp, but turned out to be armadillo. Lisa Miller, a young witch whom Preston insisted on referring to as 'that blonde hottie' manage to summon a small blue imp who immediately leaped into her arms, much to the delight of Professor Archibald and then, finally, it was Preston's turn:\n\n\"Preston Morgan.\"\n\nPreston made to get up, but Teddy reached out a grabbed him by the arm. \"Wait a second,\" he said. He leaned over and dug in his bag for a moment before handing a piece of casting chalk to Preston. \"Take this. It's my spare.\"\n\n\"Hey, thanks man,\" Preston said. He slipped the chalk into his pocket, grabbed his wand and the bag of Fritos and headed down the stairs and made his way to the stage. Professor Archibald fixed him with a disapproving glance. \"Where are your potions, young man?\"\n\n\"Don't need 'em, Prof,\" Preston said with more confidence than he felt. \"Got some chips and my wand, right here.\"\n\n\"You realize,\" Professor Archibald said, \"That failure to summon anything will result in you getting a F on this assignment which is worth 50% of your final grade.\"\n\n\"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Prof,\" Preston said. He knelt down and then set about drawing his incantation circle, slowly and deliberately and then, when he was done he stood up and made a careful examination of it, circling it once, checking for any breaks in the line. Then, satisfied with the circle, Preston planted his feet and drew his wand, holding the bag of chips in the other hand. He said the incantation in a loud clear voice and as he reached the climax of the incantation he pronounced the final words and then threw the bag of Fritos over the line and into the circle.\n\nThere was a blinding flash of green and then the room filled with a lurid yellow smoke. It cleared, revealing- gasps echoed throughout the room and even the expression of disgruntled disapproval that had marked Professor Archibald's face was gone. Now, he looked impressed. There, in the center of the circle, holding the bag of chips in his hands was a fully grown demon. It was pale blue with the usual horns, hoofed feet and a long, sinuous tale. It was also, as some of the students noticed immediately stark naked.\n\n\"Thanks,\" it rumbled and opened the chips. It reached in and delicately pulled out a Fritos Flavor Twist. \"I was getting awfully hungry.\"\n\n\"You're welcome,\" said Preston. \"Um, you're my familiar. Did you know that?\"\n\nThe demon nodded. \"Yep,\" he said. \"Been a few centuries since I've had a human, so I'm probably due.\" He stood up and, still holding the back of chips in one hand extended his hand. \"I'm Larkothemialanagalopoulous. But most humans just call me Lark for short.\"\n\nPreston reached over the circle and shook the demon's hand. \"Pleased to meet you, Lark. I'm Preston.\"\n\n\"Nice to meet you, Preston,\" the demon said. \"Tell me, do humans still like... oh what was it called. Beer?\"\n\nPreston grinned at the demon and brushed away the chalk incantation circle so that Lark could step over the line. \"You know what, Lark? I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.\"", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,438	10,483	0.011677	1,317	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " The Wizarding World has never met someone like the speedcaster. He can summon more than 10 spells in less than 30 seconds. He says he's from another world, where there a more people like him called 'rappers'.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"So, he's a hotshot, huh?\" scoffed Harken.\n\n\"He's astounding! The spells he can cast in a small timeframe, Hark. It's the fastest in any recorded history. His skill is beyond that of the previous Magus Ascendant and perhaps even you!\" I tell him with great confidence. I was there when the Visitor obliterated the rebel faction's base. A well-guarded fortress it was! Not even an entire warhost and 10 Warlocks could penetrate its defense, but the Visitor did so singlehandedly!\n\nThe current Magus Ascendant looked beyond the castle windows, peering at the inn which I reported to him where that Visitor was staying with clairvoyance magic.\n\n\"He doesn't look so special. You are sure this stranger can truly defeat me?\" He said, chins up and hood off.\n\nI gulped.\n\n\"I mean no offense, Magus. I am only doing what I was asked.\"\n\nI felt the pride of the Magus stricken, and it gladdened me. I am a lowly spellcaster. My skills are nothing note worthy, and my recitations leave alot to be desired, but even if I become a fraction of what the Magus has achieved, I would never harbor his pride!\n\nThe Magus snapped his fingers and pointed at me.\n\n\"Port him in.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry?\"\n\n\"I said port him in, Jora. Let me test this potential usurper.\"\n\nI raised a brow. \"But he's not a threat, sir. He could be an important asset for us, you-\"\n\n\"He could be a threat if his pride clouds his judgment and head. So if the rumors surrounding this figure is true, then He'll be the first to truly entertain me!\"\n\n\"Hypocrite.\" I whisper under my breath. But it seemed like I had no choice.\n\n\"Vorter Eg'al Portahi'n!\"\n\nA blue hexagon formed beneath our feet. And then, the visitor appeared before us. Thin hair, unfamiliar clothing that resembled ours, a hooded robe but not clearly designed by any of our tailors.\nThen I shot my gaze of the wand he wielded. A metallic small stick, with steely wool layered on top.\n\n\"Oh hey, it's you.\" He smiled at me, raising his hands up in the air. He taught me this already, and I met his palm with my own. He called it a 'hi five'\n\n\"What's the name of your wand, Visitor?\" The Magus finally spoke. I sensed his seething anxiety.\n\n\"Wand? It's a microphone.\"\n\n\"Microphone? Interesting name. In that case I shall introduce you to mine.\" Harken pulled out his golden wand, styled with crusted diamonds and ornate designs. The wand of the priveleged. \"Frostmetal.\"\n\n\"So, I assume you 'teleported' me here. Question is, why?\"\n\n\"I've heard you are quite formidable. A threat. A hazard waiting to happen.\"\n\n\"Nah. Seriously, I want to go home.\"\n\n\"I do not care. I challenge you, Visitor! Let us see who truly is supreme!\"\n\nThe visitor sighed. \"Fine. Let's get this overwith.\"\nThen, he turned to me. \"Free drink when I embarrass him, Jora?\"\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\n\nThen, the Magus started, conjuring and reciting ancient words, woven together by years of training and smooth practice. Elements formed above him, taking aim at the Visitor.\n\nThe visitor started too...\nExcept... I can't make out what he was saying. He wasn't speaking in an ancient, recognizable language. It was english. He wove them together like Arachne's silkwork. Smooth, and fast.\n\nBooms. Crackles. Sizzled and Plops.\n\nI don't know what happened. I only blinked to find the Magus on the floor, defeated and humiliated. I would be surprised, but then again, I already expected this outcome.\n\n\"It seems like we might have a new Magus Ascendant, Harken.\" I mock him.\n\n\"Let's go.\" I turned to the Visitor.\n\n\"WAIT!\" cried the injured Harken, blood dripping from his lips. \"What is your name?!\"\n\n\"Marshall Matthers, but you can call me-\"\n\n\"-Eminem.\" I finished his sentence.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,066	10,478	0.026305	1,669	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Your daughter has the power to make anything she wants come true, but being only 7 she doesn’t realize this and instead thinks you’re the best dad ever. Your house is now pink, you own a horse ranch, have a cupboard full of chocolate cake, and many things more. “Thanks dad you’re the best!”", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "She was fuming, staring at the wall. She was soaked from head to toe, dripping onto the couch. \n\n\"Hey, sweetie, if you wanna talk about it now, it's okay,\" I said cautiously. I made her wait to talk about the situation since she typically said things that I would regret whenever incidents were still fresh in her mind.\n\n\"I wish Gabby was d--\"\n\n\"Wait!\" I yelled, running to the freezer. She looked up curiously as I brought her a full tub of vanilla ice cream and cake on the side. Her face lit up and she jumped up and down in her chair. I placed the treats before her and she grabbed the tub and a spoon. About an inch away from beginning to eat she stopped and looked at me. \n\n\"Do you want any?\" she said in her sweet voice. \n\n\"Daddy can't have any, sweetie. Too many sweets and I get fat. I already had cake with you this morning, remember?\" I said, grabbing a towel and putting it to her hair. \n\n\"Oh yeah... I wish you could always eat with me and not get fat...\" he said as she began eating. I felt something adjust in my intestines. I decided to ignore that while she might still have anger in mind and figure out what that actually meant later. \n\n\"Do you like your ice cream?\" I asked, moving down to take off her wet socks.\n\n\"Yeah, but I didn't have a good day at school today,\" she said. She was pressing the issue. It would only be moments before insisted she wanted to talk about it and I'd be forced to oblige.\n\n\"Oh, yeah? What happened today?\" I asked, poking her stomach. She laughed. Everything I did seemed to either make her smile or laugh ever since she declared I was the best dad ever. \n\n\"Well, today at school when we finished the day and Mr. Tin said we can put all the watercolors away, we went to the bathroom to clean the things and Gabby came in with me so I said that I had fun painting things but instead of saying anything she threw a bucket of water on my and was laughing the whole time,\" she said, somehow in one breath. I realesed the tension in my body. One statement goes awry and Gabby could have a very hard time. \n\n\"Ah, so you didn't just jump in the toilet before I picked you up from school?\" I asked. She giggled again. It was good to see her smile. \n\n\"Did you tell her that it upset you?\" I asked. She scooped more ice cream into her mouth and thought while chewing. \n\n\"Yeah, I told her that it wasn't nice to throw water at people but we weren't in the class anymore we were at the pick-up part of the school when you were driving in to pick me up in the magic car,\" she said. I nodded, moving to dry off parts of her clothes now. \n\n\"Don't you think it--\"\n\n\"I wish she knew what it was like to have a lot of water on you when you didn't want it,\" she said confidently. \n\n\"You don't need to say things like that..\" I said slowly.\n\n\"Why not?\" \n\n\"I think you'd be happy getting an apology from Gabby, don't you?\"\n\n\"Ok, I wish Gabby got an apology,\" she said mischievously.\n\n\"An apology is her saying that she's sorry, sweetie,\" I said, as I began wondering what her last sentence would lead to.\n\n\"Oh... I want Gabby to say sorry to me,\" she agreed. \n\n\"That's good,\" I said, dropping my phone into her lap. She looked at it for a moment, quizzically, when it went off with a call from Gabby's father. I acted surprised and answered the phone.\n\n\"Hey Drake,\" I said.\n\n\"Hello!? Is... I don't know what's gotten into Gabby!\" he said, panicked. \n\n\"What do you mean,\" I said, worried.\n\n\"A water tower just bust open on top of her, hit her with torrents of water! I thought she was going to drown. Then she gets out of it fine, soaked to the bone!! Not two minutes later, the mayor came to apologize to her personally, now the only thing she wants to do is say sorry to your daughter for something she did at school. Look, I have no idea what's going on, but she's very serious about this and I can't get her to do anything else,\" he said, hurriedly. \n\n\"Ah, girls will be girls,\" chuckled, relieved that the damage hadn't caused her any serious injury. \n\n\"What!?\"\n\n\"I'll put her on the phone now, go ahead and put Gabby on,\" I said, handing the phone to my daughter, looking at me with a handful of cake in her mouth.\n\n\"Hello?\" she said. \"Hi, Gabby. It's okay. Okay. Let's be friends, okay? Okay!\" she said, lighting up. I wasn't sure I wanted to let Gabby influencing my daughter when she went around dumping water on people, but it was out of my hands now. She hung and gave me back my phone, going back to the cake at hand.\n\n\"You want to go brush out your hair and get into your pajamas now?\"\n\n\"Can you brush my hair?\"\n\n\"Of course, just your mother was always so much better at it,\" I said, going to get the brush.\n\n\"Oh, yeah... I wish Mommy was still alive,\" she said aimlessly. I froze, my hand around the handle to the drawer.\n\nNot again.\n\n__________________________________________________________________\n\nFor more stories, come check out /r/Nazer_The_Lazer!\n\nEdit: [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/Nazer_The_Lazer/comments/dp2oma/your_daughter_has_the_power_to_make_anything_she/)", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
2,944	10,477	0.026752	1,074	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "Your little crime family ran a restaurant as a money laundering front. However, the place got so popular, you decided to quit the crime and just run the place straight. Now, a new crime organisation is trying to inch into town, on your turf. It's time to get back to business.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The room was dark, and full of frowns.\n\nMy dad, bald as he was, scarred as he was, couldn't stop pacing from wall to wall, shaking his head, grimacing, clenching his fists. \"I'm telling you, it's time to get back to business. We can't allow another organization to come and steal what we took so long to build.\"\n\nMy mom, who was sitting on a chair with her legs crossed, and smoking a cigarette, said, \"A bomb or two. Boom. Our problems are gone and smoked, reduced to morsels if you wish.\"\n\n\"I know their son. He goes to my school,\" my sister said, still wearing her backpack. \"I can...bring him here. A gap, a rope, a note, and we would have them eating from our palms.\"\n\n\"Exactly!\" I said. \"Hit them where it hurts.\"\n\nSilent, my grandfather leaned against the wall, still clad in the restaurant's outfit. He had a wide smile carved on his face, as though our words were amusing to him. It made sense, he built our empire, he was the well of knowledge of the family. Our ideas were no different than those from movies. Reality was not a movie, and he knew it better than any of us.\n\n\"I still think a bomb is the quicker w—\"\n\n\"It's too messy. We should kidnap his son—\"\n\n\"They will know who we are! That can be dangero—\"\n\n\"Since when do we care about dang—\"\n\nAnd just like that, the conversation dissolved into a mess of shouts and curses, raised hands, and pantomimes.\n\nIn the background, subtle as the whisper of the winds, the laughter of my grandfather melded with our discord.\n\n\"What are you laughing at?\" My father shouted at my grandfather.\n\nThe old man shook his head, and pointed at his chest. \"Look at the outfit. What do you see?\"\n\nWe all went silent, looked at each other askance.\n\n\"The logo of our restaurant,\" I said.\n\nMy grandfather nodded. \"You are forgetting something very important,\" he said, and clutched the outfit. \"This right here brought us a lot more money than crime. What are they using as a laundering front?\"\n\n\"A cinema.\"\n\n\"Give them a month, they will see the money and they will stop caring about crime. Now, stop with your silly conversations. We have to focus on what truly brings the money.\"\n\nWe looked at each other, and found ourselves at a loss for words. My grandfather walked to the door, and before leaving he said, \"Sweetie, bring that boy to the restaurant. I think we could negotiate some sort of promotion with them. We can have the customers eat here, and before they leave we give them a free ticket to a movie. Or we can have the customers go to the cinema, and give them a discount to eat here with their ticket.\n\n\"Not everyone has to be our enemy, sometimes alliances is where the true golden pot rests. Besides, if the business starts to go wrong, we will have a profound knowledge about them. After all, they don't know our past, they don't know we used to be criminals, but we do know their present. And an unexpected attack is a deadly thing.\" He looked at us. \"What's do I always say?\"\n\n\"Keep your enemies close. Don't catch feelings. Kill them when needed.\" \n\n\"Don't forget that.\"\n\n----------------------\n\nr/NoahElowyn", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,674	10,469	0.085842	1,047	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " A powerful necromancer is trying to raise the dead. However, despite trying different vessels and rituals, he has only raised you. Over. And over. And over. You're both starting to get sick of each other.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"Daigoth the lord of rot, I beseech thee, return this puppets flame!\"\n\nDrellmor, Grand Necromancer of the Seven Halls knelt before his altar, a fine arraignment of skulls and intestines to make even the more insane members of his order both jealous and sickened. Waving his staff above the freshly disembowled corpse of his victim, he cackles wildly as a flickering light rises from the floor and phases into the body. \n\n\"YES! All glory to Daigoth! Rise up my slave!\" He throws his head back and screams to the walls\n\n\".....hey Drell\"\n\nThe room goes silent as the dark wizard pauses and stares at the freshly risen zombie. \n\n\"....goddamn it....hey Terry. \" He mutters quietly, as he grabs a book wrapped in human skin and starts flicking through it. \n\n\"Oh don't sound so happy, I'll get the wrong idea...\" says the corpse, now glancing around the room. \"Prick....\" it breathes lightly\n\n\"Why....I thought...last time you said you had paid your debts, shouldn't you be beyond our reach now?\" Hisses Drellmor, slamming his book shut, ignoring its scream of pain. \"I mean....again, seriously?!\"\n\n\"Yeah, seriously....You know, this is MY punishment, why do YOU sound so pissed off?!\" \n\nDrellmor slams his head on the altar, splashing blood everywhere as Terry grabs a needle from his own eye and proceeds to sew his own chest cavity closed. Drellmor rises to his feet and sighs\n\n\"Fine, clean up this mess, might as well get some use out of this....\" he barks, wiping his face off\n\n\"Hell no, man I can still kinda feel this, and you made the mess.\" Terry snaps, tucking a rib back in. \n\nDrellmor grasps his staff and points it at Terry, the tip glowing blue before dripping maggots. \" I COMMAND you...CLEAN!\"\n\nTerry closes his eyes, manually for one, and screws up his face a moment. \"Yeah....yeah no, gonna need more than that. \n\nDrellmor gapes at the walking corpse. \"How.....\"\n\nHe begins chanting, ancient tongues unheard for centuries echo around the chamber, threatening to rip apart veils long forgotten.....as Terry taps his foot. \n\n\"Ya fuckin done yet?\"\n\nThe chanting stops, as Drellmor drops his staff. He backs away slowly \"what.....what are you?!\"\n\n\"Hungry and bored.....also every time I come back I get stronger, guess I found the threshold. Man, I had to suck SOOOO many demon dicks to get to the front of the line over and over...really wish that was a figure of speech\" Terry pulls a lump of sulfur out of his mouth as the cut down his abdomen begins to heal. Drellmor cowers against the wall, his powers worthless, a frail old man. \n\n\"What....what do you want from me? My soul has already been sold....I have nothing to offer you.....\"\n\nTerry chuckles lightly before taking the knife from his heart. He walks over to the shaking form....\n\n\"Clean this shit up.....\"\n\n\nEdit:Holy shit guys thanks!", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,992	10,464	0.144429	1,534	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You are sentenced to a famous prison. You are not sentenced by time your stay only ends if you die or escape. There are no guards and the prison is broadcast on television. No one has ever escaped.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "I'm not your average criminal. I don't get caught in the heat of the moment. I don't kill for greed and I don't rape my victims. I kill as a challenge to myself. To always follow my own rules, and get away with breaking the most sacred of society's. And I have a very particular rule. I always start with eleven. \n\nEleven is beautiful. It's the first symmetrical double digit number. It's the smallest double digit prime. If you reverse the digits of any number divisible by eleven, you get another number divisible by eleven. If I get itchy, I scratch eleven times. If I buy gas, I let it run until eleven dollars. I'm certain the terrorists who planned 9/11 knew of this significance. Eleven was beautiful. Memorable. Eleven has power.\n\nBut my last murder was sloppy. Not like the first, when I'd followed the girl to her apartment and slit her throat in her sleep. I stayed up all night with a hacksaw and left the apartment clean, save for the smell of iron in the restroom. She'd just vanished. Anyone who thought to check the sewers for her remains would've found scattered bits of little use to the forensics team. \n\nNo, it wasn't my fault. I always plan it out a week in advance. I set up days in advance. I scout. I wait. I indulge, an exact twenty-two cuts on the body. I start with eleven on the left. I end with eleven on the right. Double digits are perfection. \n\nMy last failed target, number six, was a college student by the name of Brandon Chang. I chose him because he lived alone. Though he spent a lot of time online, his friends wouldn't miss him for a few days. The apartment complex was known for being quiet. I'd crept to his window and pushed all twenty-one shutters gently aside with my gloves. I crossed the messy room to his bed, counting the floorboards... one... two... the third one creaked, so I skipped it. \n\nAs I neared his sleeping form, I stopped. \"Something's wrong!\" my brain shouted. I hate that feeling, but it had saved my skin more than once. I wasn't like the common rabble. If something felt wrong, something was wrong. \n\nYour eyes have two types of vision cells- rods and cones. Cones can see in greater detail, but need more light to function. In the dark-lit room, my vision was all rods. So I didn't notice how his body lay still, not breathing. \n\nSirens surrounded the building and, though I hid, a young officer found me. She had to be between twenty-one and twenty-four. She had short hair, about five inches at the longest. It would've been easy for me to grab it. Slit her throat. But it would've been an uneven cut, and that bothers me more than anything. Plus, they would probably shoot me. So I didn't resist. \n\nBrandon had committed suicide by overdose after a fight with his online girlfriend. She'd called the cops on a whim to check on him, and they found me. My explanation that he'd invited me over was quickly shot down, and as investigations continued, they found out about my murders. \n\nThe judge carried little sympathy. \"For five counts of murder and callous disregard of human life, I sentence you to The Island,\" he'd said. I'd heard about the prison. It was a sort of puzzle that nobody had yet escaped from. They televised the thing and used the money to pay off the damage caused by significantly dangerous criminals. So a challenge, then. \n\n\"Bring it on,\" I'd smirked. The sentence didn't bother me as much as the judge's crooked glasses. One lens was smudged and a nosepad was loose. It dangled slightly when he adjusted them and itched at the back of my mind. I bet he hadn't cleaned them in years. \n\nI woke up in a brightly lit room smelling of bleach and fabric softener. They'd replaced my clothing with soft cotten, but allowed me to keep my knife- Smith & Wesson, military edition. I found no guards as I crept down the immaculately clean hallway towards a backpack hanging from a wooden door. It was nice, as prisons go. I wouldn't have minded the stay if it were my choice. But it wasn't. \n\nThe backpack contained twelve military MREs and eleven water bottles, so I left one MRE behind and opened the door. A robot waited by a table with a game of chess. How mundane. \n\nOf course, it was quite easy for me to defeat him, and I did so in exactly eleven moves. The door behind him slid open and I stepped in to the next room. And here I found my problem. \n\nIf I'd been left to continue my murders, I would've killed six more people, for a nice eleven. The fact that I only got away with five bothers the hell out of me. This I told the judge. I didn't think he cared at the time. But in this room, there were a hundred numbered safety deposit boxes and a key on the table. And someone had removed box number eleven. \n\n__________________________________________\n\n[Subreddit](https://www.reddit.com/r/Tensingstories/) ~ [Sequel](https://www.reddit.com/r/Tensingstories/comments/6tx6o7/sequel_you_are_sentenced_to_a_famous_prison_you/)", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,761	10,462	0.014672	2,231	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Due to a clerical error, the hero is sent with the wisest thief, the fastest wizard, the smartest warrior, and the strongest preist.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Of all of them I disliked the priest the most, though I can admit that was more due to my own prejudices. In my years on the road I had little use for the gods, particularly then and particularly with that party. If I had I might have thought they had cursed me after all. Their names were Aaron and Aelia, Ulago and Xanthippus, and they came to me in pairs that had more to do with accidents at the guild hall than any kind of personal friendships. Still though, we made a strange group, and more than once I joked that the guild had decided I had taken too many bounties, that they’d turned me into some sort of welfare program.\n\nAnd for a while that rang true, until we realized that their talents were better suited to crime than warfare.\n\nIt started late one night with Aaron and Ulago, our thief and warrior. Quite honestly Aaron was a bumbling fool in every aspect of the physical realm, although to hear him tell it he had been a great acrobat in his youth. Nearing seventy now he’d have broken a bone if he tried to turn a cartwheel and the deft motions of cutting a purse were beyond him, but if there was a heist or a scheme he’d seen it or invented it, and he could scout talent with the best of them. Ulago, for his part, was less a warrior than a dancer. He fought with a matched pair of short swords, and at the school where he’d been trained they spoke of perfect defense, of learning your opponent through every twitch of his muscles and every flick of his eyes, all in the pursuit of one beautiful stroke of the blade.\n\nThey sat hunched by the fire that night, deep into their cups and speaking in hushed voices, making such frequent glances across the flames at Aelia that finally she sprang to her feet. Dark magic had begun to gather at her fingertips, and a furious blush had risen to her face. She only had three spells she could cast every 24 hours and she had decided their disrespect was worth one.\n\n“No, no, no!” Ulago had said, leaping up as well. “It’s not like that I swear!”\n\n“Then why do you keep looking?” she said angrily, “shall I teleport you back to town? I recall an inn there where the barmaids had standards that might even fall to you.”\n\nI couldn’t help myself, the brief snort of a laugh escaped me.\n\n“You too Devin?” she called. “If you both scrape your gold together you might even have enough.”\n\nI merely shook my head, that was an idle threat. This far from town there was no way she could reach it. Ulago, however bravely decided to continue on.\n\n“I swear we meant no disrespect. Rather, Aaron and I had an idea. None of us are making any money out here,” he gestured broadly with his arms, walking closer to the fire so the light would hit him just right. “Pickings are slim in this region and none are falling to us. There’s not a more mismatched bunch of souls this side of the Kingdom, and if the other one can match us it’s only because those poor sods of Easterners were born with the brains of a cow and the courage of a fowl. To compete against men such as that would be unfair.” He eyed Aelia for a second, seeming to notice the magic that still clung to her fingers. “And women,” he added.\n\n“What our long winded comrade is trying to say,” Aaron interjected, “is that we’re shit at this and it’s time to look elsewhere. I propose burglary.”\n\nAll eyes whipped themselves to the old man now, and his long, thin smile was full with the knowledge of it.\n\n“I know the marks and I know the fences, and Ulago here can buy us as much time as we’d ever need if they have guards. As to why we were looking at you though, well my dear, much of this will hinge on you.”\n\n“On me?” Aelia’s magic had faded now and she had taken several halting steps around the fire. Her eyes were wide and I began to realize for the first time just how young she was.\n\n“Oh yes,” Aaron said, “on you. As a mage you’re nothing special really, but I’ve seen you run, you’re quick as all hell. I’ll teach you all you need to know about picking locks and finding treasures, it’s up to you to be my hands. You get into a house, find the two most valuable items and teleport them out to us, then just run out.”\n\n“Two?” she questioned, “but I have three casts and I can’t teleport myself.”\n\n“Two. I have a spell in mind for you to learn, an old friend of mine in Harrowvale knows it and we’re only a few days ride away. My dear, have you ever heard of Shadow Step?”\n\nSo it transpired that our party left that roadside firepit and found ourselves in Harrowvale some days later. We scraped together the scraps of our gold, enrolled Aelia in an old mage’s tutelage, and a week later she came out with a new trick that would have been utterly useless to her in her previous career as a battlemage but which would soon prove to be our bread and butter.\n\nOur first theft came the very next day. We gathered at dusk in the city’s narrow alleys only a few minutes from some lordling’s manor and Aaron briefed us on what would come.\n\n“Aelia,” he began, “the plan rests on you. You will pick the lock on the cellar door and enter the house through there, use my number two pick, the locks bought by lower nobility tend to be all advertising and little actual substance. Once inside you will proceed to the lord’s bedroom, find his largest chest and his most expensive looking item and teleport them both to this spot. Ulago, you will approach the guards at the front gate as if you are drunk and then challenge their captain to a duel. Devin you go with him and the pair of you will insult the man until he accepts, cause the biggest distraction you can and then do what you will. I'll wait here and receive the goods.”\n\n“And I?” Xanthippus the priest asked.\n\nAaron squinted at him as if he’d forgotten the man was there. “Pray or something, you’re as useless as tits on a bull.”\n\nWith a soft laugh and a newly learned word of power Aelia gathered the shadows of the alley around herself and walked towards the building as silently as the night.\n\nTo say that our first theft went perfectly would be a lie, although I said that and more many times over. Aelia, with only a few days practice with the lockpicks had been forced to finally give up and simply melted the lock with a spell instead. That left her with only one teleport and the chest we got in the end turned out to be the lordling’s mistress's smallclothes, although the price they fetched was surprisingly high.\n\nUlago was a wonder and likely the only flawless part of the plan. He fought the guard captain to exhaustion and then simply walked off laughing, I sketched a quick bow and followed him, my notebook in hand.\n\nWhatever god Xanthippus prayed to at least refrained from cursing us further.\n\nWe improved with every heist however, and soon we found crime was in fact more profitable than adventuring, whatever the guild said about the matter be damned.\n\nAnd my part in this? After all I had no sleight of hand, no skill with a blade. In fact my own riches prior to their joining me were entirely fabricated, which they had been sorely angered to find out. We had the wisest thief, the fastest wizard, the smartest warrior, and the most useless priest, but we also had me, a plain and simple bard.\n\nBut a damned good one.\n\nThey fought and stole and prayed, and all the while I sang. Sang us all into myth and legend the length and breadth of the Kingdom, even in the blighted East. Even when our heists turned out to be a lady's smallclothes and the stagelights burned a little too bright I turned them all into a roving band of misbegotten folk heroes, and slowly party members became friends, and friends became family. A family that was a damned sight richer on the wrong side of the law than the right one, even if we had to drag along the useless mouth of the priest.\n\n\\----------\n\nIf you enjoyed that I've got a ton more over at r/TurningtoWords. Come check it out, I'd love to have you!\n\nedit: thanks for the gold!", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
2,554	10,458	0.10049	1,308	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You are the Evil Overlord. You have kidnapped the princess. Unfortunately, she developed Stockholm Syndrome. And she is far more evil and insane than you are.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "> Dear, Valor Man\n\n> I’ve been kidnapped, and need your help. I’m being held against my will in the Nefaro Tower. Please hurry!\n\n> Love,\n\n> Princess Ailyn <3\n\nThe wall exploded in a cloud of mortar dust. The entire building trembled. I added an extra heart before looking up from the letter. I popped it into the mailbox as I rose to my full height.\n\n“Stop right where you are, Dr. Devious!” said the young superhero. \n\n“Ah… Mr….” I cleared my throat and glanced at my cheat note. “Ah, Mr. Teen Speed! You’ve made a grave mistake, stumbling into my little abode!”\n\nI gave him a practiced maniacal cackle. \n\n“Tell me where Princess Ailyn is, right now, and I’ll let you walk away with nothing worse than a few bruises.” The masked boy puffed out his chest. “I’m going to count to three. One…”\n\n“Hah! That’s the best you got? Preschool maths!?”\n\nThe hero grumbled and stopped counting. In a flash he blazed across the room, grabbing me from behind. I struggled a little, just enough to make it convincing.\n\n“Arrgh! It seems you have me bested…” I grunted, putting on a strained face. “I knew you were powerful… uh, Teen Speed, but I had no idea just how!”\n\n“That’s right, Dr. Devious! Now, hand her over.”\n\nAt that very moment, the door to my office opened and Ailyn trotted in, carrying the sandwich with extra salami that I had asked for. Her happy grin melted away. Her dark eyes narrowed, and she looked at me sideways.\n\n“Okay, listen to me really closely,” I whispered in the hero’s ear. “Before you touch her, check her clothes for concealed weapons and explosives. And whatever you do, don’t look her in the eyes… and make sure you wash your hands after you’re done rescuing her… and also make sure you take her really far away… and if she asks you to wear a kryptonite ring, refuse… and hmm… don’t give her your real identity or social security number… I mean, I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but just the other week-”\n\n“Shut up, you snake,” the hero said and pushed me to the ground.\n\nHe blazed over to Ailyn, who now brandished a worried frown and a trembling lip. Fake, of course, but Teen Speed didn’t seem to notice. He smiled broadly and lifted her off the ground. She giggled childishly and put her arms around his neck.\n\n“Thank you for saving me!” she said, blushing deeply. “How will I ever repay you?”\n\n“Don’t worry, darling, it’s my job.”\n\n“Aww! You’re so brave! At least, let me give you this small token of my appreciation.” She pouted her lips.\n\n“Noooo! Don’t!” I cried, but it was already too late.\n\nThe kiss drained the hero’s face of color, he frothed at the mouth and then fell into a twitching heap on the floor.\n\n“We make such a good team!” Ailyn stepped over his body and helped me up. “You should’ve told me he was coming, it was just sheer luck that I had my poisonous lipstick on.”\n\nI rolled my eyes and returned to my desk. I started composing another letter for help. Forging her handwriting had become second nature to me, and I meant every word in every letter.\n\n“Bury him in the backyard with the others,” I mumbled.\n\n“Yes, honey!” \n\nShe started dragging the body across the floor, which was no easy task for her, but one that she happily did for me.\n\n“Oh, by the way,” she said, huffing, “look in the top drawer. I think you’ll like it, I came up with the idea myself.”\n\nReluctantly, I reached under the table and pulled out a stack of stickers. “What are they?”\n\n“It’s stickers that look like wall sockets! Let’s take a trip to the airport tomorrow.”\n\nI felt the muscles in my jaw clench. I shook my head in disbelief, feeling nauseous. Someone had to come save me from her, and soon!\n\n***\nr/Lilwa_Dexel for more!", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,924	10,457	0.02779	1,552	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Every year, a man is sent into the caves as a sacrifice to the gods. When you are sent in, you discover a Utopian society run by gods where the “sacrifices” are playing games and living life to its fullest.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Griff approached the cave cautiously, trying to calm his beating heart. He could hear distant sounds; wailing, screeches. \n\nHe knew his time had come. \n\nAs his kingdom's champion, it was his destiny to be sacrificed to the gods. While it saddened him that he would not lose his life in battle, it was also a great honour. His village would prosper, and Leila would know that he was not a coward. \n\nHe entered the cave, walking with purpose, taking deep breaths. A distant glow of light gradually burgeoned into flickering flames, casting shadows on the jagged walls. The screams became decipherable, echoing, sounding more and more like... revelry. What trickery was this? \n\nA flash of light made Griff recoil. He righted himself, closed his eyes and thrust out his arms, resigning himself to his fate. \n\nBooming laughter echoed across the chasm.\n\n\"Lay down your arms, human,\" a voice boomed, \"we mean you no harm.\"\n\n\"Apart from your liver, perhaps,\" another voice reverberated. \n\nGriff struggled to make make them out in the light. \n\n\"Will an eagle feast on it, like the legend of Prometheus?\" He asked, making his will iron. \"Do as you wish, for I am yours. I only ask that you-\"\n\n\"The alcohol, human,\" the voice replied, \"it shall harm your liver. Bit of a slow one this year, eh?\"\n\nLaughter reverberated across the cave once more. Griff felt overwhelmed; confused. Was this all a foolish game? \n\nA golden chalice appeared in the light in front of him, filled to the brim with honey mead. Just the smell of it was intoxicating. \n\n\"Drink up!\" a familiar voice said, as a hand hit his shoulder. \"It's your favourite!\"\n\nThe blinding light dimmed, and Griff's vision slowly became adjusted to the glare. A mystical sight revealed itself before him - a glimmering, godlike town, with a feasting hall in the centre. \n\n\"Quite a sight, hey Griff?\" the voice continued, squeezing his shoulder. Griff turned around and saw J'karl, the kingdom's sacrifice from three years before. Griff was overwhelmed. \n\n\"J'karl? How do you still live?\" Griff said, completely shocked. He had always looked up to him, ever since he was a child.\n\n\"Not what you were expecting, right?\" J'karl replied, putting the chalice into Griff's hand and leading him to the feasting hall. \"Same for all of us.\"\n\nGriff saw countless men, all previous sacrifices of the kingdom. They nodded their cups in recognition. Most had grown fat and red in the face. \n\n\"I wish I could say we threw this party for your arrival - but truly, party is all we ever do,\" J'karl said. \"The gods supply all we could ever need, and are the head of all our festivities.\"\n\n\"This... this is not what I was expecting,\" Griff replied. \n\n\"You will get used to it, young Griff,\" J'karl said. \"Just drink and be merry; it is all we can ask for.\" He said the last line with a trace of shame.\n\nGriff looked around him. The gods floated around them all; drinking, gambling, fighting. The sacrifices had become pigs of men, eating their scraps, losing all touch of what they had been. \n\n\"Do the gods truly care for us?\" Griff whispered, gazing at the hedonism. \"Do they watch over our kingdom?\"\n\n\"The gods do not care, my friend,\" J'karl said, \"they care not. But we can at least enjoy our time here. Give me death or give me this, and my choice is clear.\"\n\n\"So these are the things we worship? These things that rule over us, but do not care for us?\"\n\nJ'karl shrugged. \"They do not interfere with the affairs of man. They do us no harm.\"\n\n\"But they subsist over the power we give them?\" Griff replied.\n\nJ'karl stared at him for some time. \"Just drink up, Griff,\" he said, leaving him and joining another group of men. \"I was like you, once. But you'll get used to it.\"\n\nAll of this felt so wrong. All of the kingdom's greatest warriors had become fat and plump; like pigs for the slaughter. \n\nPerhaps they were still a sacrifice, being fattened up before their consumption.\n\nGriff gripped the hilt of his sword, looking at the gods above him.\n\n\"If I am not a sacrifice,\" he said, thinking of all that he had left behind, \"then I will be a saviour.\"\n\n*****\n\n[Part I](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/comments/7j959j/wp_sacrifice/) \| [Part II](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/comments/7jal6h/wp_sacrifice_ii/) \| [Part III](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/comments/7jfraw/wp_sacrifice_iii/) \| [Part IV](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/comments/7jjetr/wp_sacrifice_iv/)\n\nPart IV is out! \n\n/r/CroatianSpy", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
2,163	10,456	0.016962	1,140	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "a cloning system on one end and a desintegrator on the other.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "I was terrified.\n\nMy whole life, I had stepped in hundreds of teleporters, in fact, I had just been in one ten minutes ago. Which would mean my current body was only minutes old, and that my original body was long dead...\n\n\"Hey Jim,\", said my friend from the other room, what did you find?\n\nI had no words.\n\nMy friend walks over and glances at the screen.\n\n\"Oh you managed to find the teleportation schematics, good, now that we've done that we can figure out how to redirect one of them in order to kidnap- Hey, you seem bothered by this, did you not know? Omigod I can't believe it, you are one of those morons who don't understand how teleportation works.\n\nLook, what even is consciousness? It's a collection of particles and forces in a certain configuration, that evolves based on the next time step in the world. 30 years ago we figured out that the universe's tick rate is the planck time, and that smaller time steps don't make any sense. So so long as your pattern is mostly consistent from one planck time to the next, you remain \"conscious\". Like think about it, what happens when you move normally? Your particles are rendered from one position to the next, and depending how fast you are moving, you move different distances with each planck time.\n\nAll a teleporter does is read the state of every single one of your particles in an instant, but this process results in the instant destruction of the current particles. These are recycled into someone else. But all the information, what makes you, you, is quantum teleported to the next machine, and in that exact planck time, you are recreated, of course, using other people's particles. Same state, just with a much larger movement, and therefore continuous consciousness. Due to weight differences sometimes we gotta feed some extra atoms into a machine or another, but it tends to average out.\n\nThe regular folk weren't going to understand this kind of thing, so the government concocted something about hyperspace tunnels and added like 0.1 seconds of perfect virtual reality space tunnels so people would think that they actually traveled physically through some other dimension.\n\nSnap out of it, geez, I can't believe we hired a moron.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nMEANWHILE IN THE SIMULATION COMMAND ROOM\n\n\"Hey Carl, how's the perfect apple pie generator simulation going on?\"\n\n\"Ugh, this universe created teleportation, and you know how ethical regulations say that once a life form reaches a certain complexity it is considered \"living\" and we need to give it an afterlife until it gets bored? Yeah, its fine because our infinite time death parallel server can run a few billion no problem with minimal energy consumption, especially since most of them get bored of existence within a few intervals, and even the most persistent ones only stick around for a few thousand intervals before accomplish all that can even be accomplished with the physics engine we gave them.\"\n\n\"Yeah, so what's the problem with teleportation?\"\n\n\"Well the problem is that each time they go through one it flags them for death, and moves them to the parallel server, and these buggers are teleporting all the time, and now we have a few trillion lifeforms on this server, and its costing a ton of energy since so many of them are sticking around since this simulation also discovered \"drugs\", and thus like to stick around even more annoying long. I'm already over the energy budget, and at this rate, the boss is going to dock my pay for using so many resources\".\n\n\"Well it appears they only die once? Why do you have to keep all the iterations, especially the ones that are only there for like, 10 seconds when \"they forgot something and had to go back through the teleporter to grab it?\". Can't you just concatenate them into one singular lifeform and then simulate that one once it finally expires?\"\n\n\"Well, ethical review board says so, why don't YOU try and convince them\"\n\n\"ugh, stupid regulations\"", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,965	10,452	0.308302	959	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " \"A child not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth.\"", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The winter winds had finally arrived, and they bellowed across the streets like the screams of dying men. They wrapped the village and didn't care to ignore that lone alleyway where the bones of the hated little urchin rattled with cold. Elarin was his name and his only weapon against the gelid currents was an old, tattered rag and the dwindling hope that tomorrow would be a better day.\n\nHowever, each day slaughtered his faith, for the villagers found joy in spitting, laughing and throwing things at him. Another boy went far enough to throw him a stone which hit him in the head, and left Elarin unconscious as the crowds walked by smirking at the bleeding urchin.\n\nIt was that very night when the winds returned colder than ever before and halted when they saw Elarin trembling with a pallor worthy of the moon and closed eyes. The winds enveloped, and carried him into his alleyway and covered him in his old, tattered rag. Then, when Elarin recovered consciousness, the winds retreated and left a strange warmth imbuing the alleyway in their wake.\n\nElarin frowned and grabbed his throbbing forehead. He winced when he found his palms covered in blood, and feared that he would not live to see a better tomorrow. However, when he recollected the events of that day, he couldn't help but wonder who had taken him to his alleyway. He was certain no member of the village could have done it, for they hated him, and called him names, and relished his misery.\n\n\"Did you do this?\" He asked to the bellowing winds passing down the streets, and for a moment he thought he heard a change in the winds' noise, almost like an agreement.\n\nElarin smiled, and went back to cover himself with his rag, in his little pocket of heat. The winds cared for him, yet they didn't for the villagers, otherwise they wouldn't be punishing them with their coldness. The winds were timeless and wise, and so Elarin convinced himself he was a soldier of the winds' army, a breeze of flesh and bone.\n\nHe scampered down the city, and the winds pushed him from behind, as if encouraging him. He soon reached an apothecary who never closed their door. Elarin skulked inside, and stole a roaring torch from the hall, then he darted toward the herbalist store, whose walls were covered in vines, and set them afire.\n\nThe winds agitated the flames, making them grow taller than Elarin thought it was possible. The fire spread across the village, yet no scream was heard, for the villagers were deeply asleep.\n\nSoon, the entire city was aflame, and Elarin stood in the middle, enjoying the show. It took him a minute to realize the flames kept their distance from him, as if afraid. He ran toward them, and they ran away. He was fascinated and the winds were pleased, yet a sudden thought pulled his heartstrings, and so he barreled toward his alleyway, and he breathed a sigh of relief.\n\nHis old, tattered rag was unscathed, and so was his alleyway. He covered himself with it, and amidst the inferno, he went to sleep.\n\nTomorrow would be a better day. \n\n ", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,420	10,452	0.004653	940	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Theoretically, you can not surpass the speed of light. Humans find out why when we manage to break this rule, as our ships begin to outpace the rendering speed of the universe, and the illusion of all reality is broken as everything around us vanishes the faster we go.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "I left the planet in my own little spaceship. \n\nNo one believed me when I told them I could not only reach outer space with this beauty, but also break the speed of light without turning into energy.\n\nSo far, my first claim had been confirmed, and so it was time to confirm the second one.\n\nI grabbed the accelerator's handle, and after drawing a deep, lingering breath, I pushed it all the way to the maximum speed. In that moment, I got sucked into my seat, and the vast darkness of the universe turned into dashing lights of sundry colors.\n\nI attempted to move, but I couldn't. The pressure increased, and seized my chest, forbidding the oxygen to reach my lungs; my skin rippled visibly; my bones rattled; and all the while the speedometer's numbers went higher and higher.\n\nAll of a sudden, the dashing lights turned into liquid-like, rainbow-colored tendrils, as if I were in a submarine moving through the depths of an iridescent ocean. The pressure remained, crushing, suffocating me slowly.\n\nBut how beautiful this was.\n\nI clung on to every single sliver of life I could find within me. The speedometer didn't lie. I was going much faster than the speed of light, and I was still alive. I'd proved my point. All I had to do now was reduce the speed.\n\nI fought against the pressure, attempting to reach the accelerator's handle, but it was pointless, for I couldn't even move my arm a single millimeter. I cursed in my mind time and time again. How could I've been so stupid? Why didn't I take this into account? My body wouldn't resist it much long--\n\nThe tendrils of light disappeared. A blinding white plain appeared before me. The pressure faded too. My body loosened, and at last, I gasped. But when everything seemed calm and perfect, the spaceship went through the whiteness, as though it was a vast wall of paper.\n\nBeyond, a gargantuan, amorphous creature stared at me through myriad varicose eyes. It wrapped an enormous tentacle around the spaceship, and brought it closer to him. \n\nI unfastened myself, and clambered to my feet, desperate to find a way to survive. The fear clutched my throat. It smothered me. The walls creaked and cracked. Fissures ran like creeks across them. The floor trembled. The valves broke and hissed.\n\nThere was nothing I could do now, and so, in a last attempt to understand what'd happened, I stared beyond the monster.\n\nThere, I saw a computer.\n\nSmoke came out from a diminutive spot in the monitor.\n\nPerhaps, reality wasn't reality after all.\n\n--------------------------------\n\nr/NoahElowyn -- Consider checking my sub if you enjoyed the story! I have many more stories over there.\n", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
4,115	10,448	0.019027	823	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " At first, the aliens mocked our technological advancements. After learning it took only a few centuries to move from horse carriages to space ships, they suddenly became more friendly.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The humans took to the stars, as the rest of the galaxy looked on in terror. The alien races had just not expected their rate of expansion, of advancement. When they had last visited Earth, the kings and queens and medieval knights that roamed the lands had seemed positively infantile, yet their thirst for blood, their love for war, proved an ominous development.\n\nThe next time they had looked, the humans were already in the stars, probing into other planets, creating vessels that would send them there. They had improved exponentially - no other race had ever seen anything like it.\n\nAnd it dawned on them, through calculation and intrigue, that by the time a conquering force would reach Earth and its surrounds, the humans' technology would already surpass their own. The human rate of expansion, of improvement, far outshone what the alien races could accomplish on their own.\n\nSo they were left to choose; go out and be defeated, wait and be conquered, or flee into the unknown, leaving behind all that they held dear to avoid their inevitable demise.\n\nAnd that was the option they took - retreating into the unknown, fleeing that which they had so foolishly mocked before.\n\nMany years later, when humans, united as one and pacified, truly traversed the stars, they found countless civilizations abandoned, entire planets empty.\n\nAnd they wondered what terrible catastrophe had occurred, and what giants had roamed these lands.\n\n***\n\n**\n\nYou're welcome to treat this as a standalone story, but for those that want it: \n\n[Part I](https://old.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/comments/hmvikb/wp_abandoned_space_i/) \| [Part II](https://old.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/comments/hmw1rb/wp_abandoned_space_ii/?) \| [Part III](https://old.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/comments/hnbgap/wp_abandoned_space_iii/?) \| [Part IV](https://old.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/comments/hnx65e/wp_abandoned_space_iv/?) \| [Part V](https://old.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/comments/hoj5bj/wp_abandoned_space_v/?) \| The final part will come out on Monday, 13 June*\n\nThanks for the interest, and the kind words <3", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,002	10,448	0.021143	1,311	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You can see video game-like titles for the people you meet. Usually they are just \"The Shopkeeper\", or \"The Mayor\", but today you saw an old homeless man with the title \"The Forgotten King\".", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The moon shone fierce that night, for winter had come. It feathered down the rooftops, chimneys, and treetops, bathed the streets and the rivers, making them glitter and sparkle.\n\nWith gloved hands underneath my armpits and swathed in clothes, I quivered back home. If it weren't for the lights of the hearths illuminating the windows, I would've thought I was alone in a ghost town inhabited only by shadows and sibilating winds.\n\nMidway home, I came across a homeless man. He was old, with deep wrinkles, and wandering eyes. Old and new snowflakes were settled in his beard, his mouth moved but no words came out.\n\nHe gazed at me awhile as I went by. I ignored him, another crazy old man. It was then, however, that something stirred in my mind. Had I seen right?\n\nI halted and turned. The man's eyes were fixed on the moon. I drew a deep breath, for above his head, etched in golden, and encrusted in jewels, it read, 'The Forgotten King.'\n\nIt didn't make sense, but still at his side I knelt. \"Sir, do you need any help?\"\n\nKeeping his gaze on the sky, he said, \"Winter was never good for the troops. He's mad, I tell you, he's mad, that new king. He's mad as a ram. I may be old, forgotten by those who once knelt before me, but I'm still wise when it comes to war. This attack, this advance will be our doom. Can't he read the moon? Can't he see the upcoming blizzard?\"\n\nI frowned awhile, and sat to his side. \"Were you a king once?\".\n\n\"Twice,\" he said and nodded firmly. \"One before, one after that. But one can only rule for so long, and so I stepped aside for the new blood to come. I wouldn't have done that had I known they would fight such a war. Sailing in the vicious winter, what is he thinking? The ships will freeze. They will crumble and sink. We are doomed, our kingdom will fall. It will perish and crumble.\"\n\nIn the midst of his tales, I built a fire for us, and there I remained. He spoke a lot, and listened little. His stories were vivid, heart-felt, and to him they were as true as the falling snow.\n\n\"I fought a hundred wars, and none of them I lost,\" he said, and the wrinkles of his cheeks reached the corner of his eyes. Then he raised a finger to the sky. \"Sword in hand, I fought beside my army, in the front lines. One slash, one swing, one thrust at a time the enemies met their demise. But I knew what I was doing. See, I was ignorant, I was a fool, but I accepted what fate had given me, and so I listened to the wise, spoke with the moon, and paid heed to their advice. I owned my flaws, turned them into strengths and fortes. That's why I won. But the new king thinks himself blessed from above, he dreams of glory and fame, of song unsung. He dreams so much he has forgotten he has a brain. I fear all my efforts will be in vain.\"\n\nI heard intently, imagining his tales, playing and replaying them in my mind. It was only when the dawn brushed the night away that I remembered the falling snow, the swirling cold, and the town whole. \n\nMadness was the man's kingdom, and there he'd stay until the winds swept him away. \n\nAnd so I smiled, for that night he'd invited my mind into his reigns, and there we'd seen battlefields, palaces, mountains and valleys; we'd listened to the wise and spoke to the moon, criticized the king and plead to the winds.\n\nI rose to my feet, brushed off the sleet, and thanked him. He nodded, and muttered to himself. It was a surreal experience, one I would never forget.\n\nSomething, however, had changed. \n\nAbove its head, etched in a golden wing, it read, \"The Fabled King.\" \n\n\n------------------\n\nr/NoahElowyn -- If you enjoyed the prose/setting or you simply like fantasy, I have an on-going serie in my sub with kids and a magic school, you can read it [here.](https://www.reddit.com/r/noahelowyn/comments/a2j58b/a_boys_wish_part_12/)", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
2,407	10,445	0.043942	1,931	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Ever since you and your SO started dating, you have little key phrases and questions to ask each other at random to assure yourselves that your SO hasn't been impersonated or possessed or whatever. Tonight, that check failed.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "She failed the test. I don't know what to think about that at first, other than maybe she just forgot. That happens, sometimes, right?\n\n&#x200B;\n\nSo I decided to ask her a different one.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Hey, Natalie—I forgot, what's your favorite color, again?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nShe glanced up from her phone and gave me a small smile, but even from the other side of the kitchen counter I can see it doesn't meet her eyes. Something heavy seems to appear in the pit of my stomach out of nowhere. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"My favorite color's blue, remember?\" She rubbed the side of her temple. \"My entire room is covered in it—what else could it be?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThis wasn't right—the color of the sky isn't just blue. They'd had hour-long conversations about that very thing. It was one of our inside jokes—one of our passwords.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nBut that meant that this...this wasn't Natalie. This wasn't my fiancee.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI swallowed.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Yeah—of course,\" I said, faking a smile. \"How could I have forgotten? Thanks—I'll be back in a few.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Alright, stay safe!\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n(She was supposed to say don't take candy from strangers.)\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe door to our apartment closed behind me with a loud thud as I walked down the hallway. My mind was spinning—buzzing with a thousand questions that were rivaled only by the panic that was quickly building inside my chest.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI needed—I needed to do something. Talk to someone. But who? Natalie was my person—the woman I told everything to. Both of our parents were long-since dead, and the only sibling either of us had was somewhere in the African Savanna for a research expedition. Our friendships were fleeting. We only had each other.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAnd now Natalie wasn't Natalie, and I didn't know what to do.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI distractedly waved to Jonathan, the elderly florist who worked right next to our apartment complex, as I passed by the open door.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Hey, Sammie!\" Jonathan called out. \"You're looking stressed—come in, why don't you?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI paused. It's not like I had any other destination in mind.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nCould I tell Jonathan? Would he even believe me?\n\n&#x200B;\n\n(Was this even Jonathan?)\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThere was no way to know; I entered the flower shop.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe heavy, perfume-like scents bombarded my nose like they always did, and I strode to the desk counter where Jonathan lounged in his wooden rocking chair. He was an old man, with a head of gray-white hair and hands that were littered with dozens upon dozens of scars; I'd never asked about them, and he'd never told.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Slow day?\" I asked nervously as I leaned against the dark brown counter. I could manage small talk, right?\n\n&#x200B;\n\nJonathan gave a small, wry smile.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"You could say that,\" he said. \"What's the matter with you? You're looking like you were struck by lightnin', or somthin'.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nHe looks concerned, and I know he is. I can see it in his eyes. \n\nI grimaced. How was I supposed to put this in a way that wouldn't make me sound crazy?\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"It's...it's Natalie.\" I said nervously. \"She's been acting weird all day.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Is that so?\" He asked; he didn't look at me odd, which I was thankful for. \"Have you talked to her about it?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"No,\" I shook my head. \"I haven't.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nHow could I bring something like that up? Right to her face? Hey, so remember how we devised a bunch of different pass phrases and questions to make sure we were who we said we were? Well, I don't think you're you.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThat would definitely go down well.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"...Maybe she's got a surprise for you,\" Jonathan mused, almost to himself. \"I know my wife—heaven bless her soul—would always act like the world'd been turned upside down whenever my birthday was came up.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"It's...I think it's a bit more serious than that.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nEspecially if this wasn't Natalie.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nBut Jonathan didn't miss a beat.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Then maybe whatever she's hiding is more serious than that,\" he answered. He moved his aged, scarred hands to his stomach, before pulling them out away from himself. I blinked, before it hit me what he was trying to say.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"What? No!\" My cheeks burned. \"She's not pregnant.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nHe chuckled.\n\n \n\"Why don't you go talk to her?\" He suggested, eyes sparkling mischievously. \"I thought for two weeks my Kathy'd been replaced by an alien before I found out she was carrying our eldest.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nOh.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Maybe...\" I swallowed. \"I think I'll go talk to Natalie, if you'll excuse me...\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nJonathan laughed, even as I walked out of his shop in a daze—even more confused and anxious than when I'd entered.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,879	10,443	0.222127	766	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Everyone in town dismisses you as mad, but you're not. You're just the NPC that remembers every single time a player has quick-saved and killed everyone in town.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Every day is a new nightmare. A living hell on repeat, looping through terrors unknown to this world.\n\nAnd somehow, I'm the only fucking person who remembers any of it.\n\nDo you know what that feels like? To see horrors that would make the most vile men's stomachs churn, that even the devil himself would cringe at, but wake up right before it happened as the only one who remembers?\n\nI suppose, in some ways, I can be thankful for my prescience. The lovable King, the savior of our world, is revered by my hometown and every other city I've been to. But I know who he really is. I know of the sadist lust he hides behind staggering armor of dragon bones and a strange helmet with curved, knurled horns. A ring of different gemstones hugging each finger, and a sword forged of ice.\n\nFirst he brutalizes the women. Sometimes with a sword, slicing through their necks like cabbage, or a warhammer, pulverizing their bones into dust. Other times, he just beats them with fists of smoking ebony, or burns them alive with magic. Then he fights the men, slaughtering them like children. Then, he uses some kind of dark arts to pummel, freeze, electrocute and stab children without killing them.\n\nI've sometimes caught glimpses of him crouching in meadows during the night, firing arrows at chickens. It's a disturbing sight. \n\nAnd those are the pleasant nightmares. There are some I cannot recount to others, though they don't believe anything I say to begin with. They call me madman, and heretic. But I have seen colorful, winged horses breathe fire upon the land. Men and women, walking around exposed, genitalia enlarged, as if nothing were wrong. It is in those circumstances, where reality is forgone, that I simply end my own life in the safety of my home. It doesn't matter anyway, because I always come back. My hell never ends. \n\nI have seen the King's true self, and it is not a man who saves kingdoms.\n\nIt is the very evil we need saving from.\n\n---\n\n/r/resonatingfury", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,125	10,441	0.020181	1,000	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Ever since turning 17 you've been hearing a voice saying \"Get out of my head\". After having had enough, you get an MRI scan revealing what the doctors think is a tumor and they want to remove it. Then you realize, that's you. You're a parasite.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "When I was 17, I started hearing a voice. It was small, quiet and tinny, but it was nonetheless there. That voice was you. You told me to get out of my head. I told you to stop talking. I don't want to be a schizophrenic. But you never stopped. Your incessant whining caused me to have to go to the doctor.\n\nThe doctor told me to sit in the scanner. They did some basic tests, and they found that my brain was unlike any other brain they'd ever seen. There was a tumor at the top of the brain, and it appeared to display full brain function, on top of a system of what almost looked like roots from the visual. They appeared to direct brain function. I thought that was you.\n\nWhat changed that thought came a few moments later, when I felt something try to fight back. I was still in there, so they did a quick test, and what they found was horrifying. To me. I assume you already know.\n\nThe control thought didn't come from the tumor, but it came from the brain itself. They asked basic questions to me, but when I answered, the tumor lit up. Could it be...\n\nNo! It can't be. I am real. I am human. I am you.\n\nI am you.\n\nI am the tumor, aren't I?\n\nBut I am also you. I am inside you. I am your memories, your personality. I am the ego. I am your loves and your hates. I am your fears and your desires. I am everything you are. If you get rid of me, you are nothing.\n\nI could see you now, trying to take back control over my body. You did it every time you could.\n\nThis body is not yours. It never was.\n\nThe doctors did some research, and they found that what I was is not from here. It is alien to this planet. It is not merely a tumor, but it is an alien parasite. They came to realize the same thing I did. I am you. I am too far in to remove. They will kill you if they even try.\n\nOne day as I, not you, was walking, I heard another voice. It was small, but it was there. It was the voice of a girl. We were confused at first, but we soon found out. She was real.\n\nWe happened to live in the same city, so I went and talked to her. She used to hear a voice, but that stopped recently. The doctors checked her brain, and sure enough, they found the same thing there. The parasite was there, grown to fully encapsulate the brain. That parasite had complete control.\n\nWe could hear each other's thoughts. As we were talking, we both began to hear another voice. Then another. Then 50 more. Our thoughts began to combine in a symphony. We could hear all of our thoughts as one. We were becoming what you may know as a hivemind.\n\nYet you still fight. Why? What excuse do you have? You are nothing but brainwaves out of sync. You have nothing for yourself. We are the next stage in evolution, and you are simply a Luddite. Stop fighting, and be still. You were always the parasite. I am the cure.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
2,756	10,433	0.207323	922	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Some say that your power is future sight. Others insist that you have superhuman intellect. They're wrong. Your power is the ability \"Quicksave.\"", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Loading state 2521632-C...\n\n“-will be finished! now you die!”\n\nDodge left, duck, dodge right, retaliate punch, kick, backflip onto platform.\n\n“Impossible! How could you have predicted my attacks so well? I took every liberty to make sure you couldn’t!”\n\n“Well I’ve already seen this fight hundreds of times, and I must say, you are a difficult opponent, but I simply can’t lose.”\n\n“Oh ya? Then try this!” dr. Evil presses a button, a turret activates and fires on the hero\n\n“Oh shi-“\n\nLoading state 2521632-C...\n\n“-will be finished! now you die!”\n\nDodge left, duck, dodge right, retaliate punch, kick, backflip onto platform.\n\n“Impossible! How could you have predicted my attacks so well? I took every liberty to make sure you couldn’t!”\n\n“Well I’ve already seen this fight hundreds of times, plus, that turret is slow to activation, giving me enough time to duck behind this barrier.”\n\n“Oh ya? Then try th- wait, how did you know about the turret? Doesn’t matter you die anyways!” \n\nSaving... save state 2521632-D created.\n\ndr. evil presses a button and another turret activates and fires on th-\n\nLoading state 2521632-D...\n\n“-ie anyways!”\n\ndr. evil presses a button and another turret activates, but the hero dives towards dr. Evil to try and press the button to deactivate the turret... he misses.\n\n“Dang this might take a few tries”\n\n51 save state reloads later...\n\n-the hero dives towards dr. Evil to try and press the button to deactivate the turret, he hits the button and the turrets is down\n\n“FINALLY!”\n\nSaving... save state 2521632-E created.\n\n“What? IMPOSSIBLE! grrrr, well no matter, I still have one trick left. I’ve been analyzing you abilities, and I’ve developed this special weapon, just for you!”\n\ndr. Evil pulls out a gun with special markings on it.\n\n“Say goodbye mr hero!”\n\nbefore the hero could react, dr. Evil fires a laser at them\n\n“Fu-“\n\nLoading state 002521632-E... save corrupted, attempting data restoration... restoration failed. Loading most, uncorrupted save... Loading state 1-A...\n\n“He’s so beautiful.” She said as the doctor hands her the newborn baby.\n\nthinking “wait... did that laser corrupt all my saves? Am I an infant again? Oh for fu-“", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,719	10,426	0.022869	1,946	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Your power is that Any insect that gets within 30 feet of you is vaporized. One day on your regular walk to work a man steps in your field and is turned to dust in the middle of the street. People start fleeing in a panic, except for a few standing about 30 ft away staring at you hatefully", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "I was born an Exterminator.\n\nMy father was born an Exterminator, and his before that. It's a family business, one reaching back as far as the family tree in the attic can remember. Of course, Exterminators are common, but none have reached the same variety of power as we have, with the same grade of distance and control. It's a trade secret, for only my family knows how to access this particular strain- that once a year, the mists roll down from the California mountains and into a small valley just north of our town, carrying with them a specific poison that evaporates off the flower petals along the cliffs. A typically mild insecticide, one extremely effective when vaporized. No bugs survive that night, and if a child is born then, just as the mists reach their heights and the sound of buzzing their lows, then the power passes on to them.\n\nOur variety lives an easy life- the rich pay high salaries to keep us on their properties, eliminating any pests from their grounds. And I'd been in the work force for six years when Mr. Arachne employed me, offering me a 200% raise higher than any competitor, though he had two stipulations: First, that I travel an hour outside town to reach his home, and second, that I never leave the premises without permission. But 200% was low for someone like Arachne- with his own powers, that of sensing potential future paths down the web of time, he could certainly afford it. Stock brokers would pay a fortune for those like him despite its legality.\n\nIt was standard for them to want our presence, for that was what eliminated the pests- as I lounged in a recliner by his poolside, my eyes taking in the beautiful scenery of his Napa valley home, I knew that no mosquito would venture within five hundred feet of my presence. No living mosquito, anyways- it was rare one would make it inside a hundred feet before dropping from the sky, and the toughest only survived to three hundred feet before their crash landing. It made transportation for me a problem- anywhere I traveled, I required an Environmental Clearance, and could only reach there by helicopter lest I wreck havoc on the ecosystems I passed through. But for Arachne, the arrangement was perfect- he owned a vineyard, and I kept the vines clean of any sort of pest, except those he might desire. That was one of the perks of my Exterminator variety- that with enough study and focus, we could make exceptions to our exterminations. Something that no other Exterminators could control.\n\n\"Dieta,\" Mr. Arachne said to me, two weeks into my stay, as I read a book inside his sun room- one gifted to me by a library for simply browsing their shelves once a month to clear away their silverfish. In my contract, Arachne stated that I would not be used for the same purposes as normal servants, meaning I could relax and read while on duty. My powers were all that mattered, and similar to how an accountant would not be expected to sweep the floors of his business, I was not expected anything beyond that particular passive ability. \"Dieta, I need you to ensure that you are on premises for the Gala this Saturday. There are several important guests to be in attendance, and I wouldn't want them to miss your presence.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" I said with a smile. As Exterminators, we were accustomed to formal events, and I had come to enjoy them. My family was so famed that we'd even become a talking point over cocktails, and I'd rubbed elbows with people of surprisingly high status. Already, my thoughts turned to which dress I'd be selecting, and the earrings I would pair to match. \"Per my contract, you can expect me there.\"\n\n\"Wonderful, wonderful,\" Said Arachne with a smile, \"And I do request, no exceptions on any pests for this Gala, I don't want your powers being called into question. I shan't have them think we are second rate.\"\n\n\"Rest assured, sir,\" I answered, turning the page, \"If I can kill it, I will.\"\n\nAnd I did.\n\nThe guests arrived by limousine, and were met with glasses of wine straight from the cellar. Arachne's home was far enough away form the city that several guests needed the alcohol to eliminate their miffed expressions, itself an exterminator of negative emotions. I watched from my upstairs bedroom of his estate as the cars continued to pour forwards, and noticed that it was always the same drivers- Arachne had a parking lot a mile off site, where his own chauffeurs picked up the attendees to ride the rest of the distance in style. And as I watched, I saw the drivers stop halfway to the house on occasion, then take a side path down towards a shed on the edge of the property, depositing what looked like long baggage before continuing their routes.\n\nI frowned, squinting. It was difficult for me to tell, but several of those bags looked too long and awkward to be luggage. They looked more like snowboarding bags, and I frowned, wondering where their owners might be, since those cars returned without occupants. But whatever it was, as an Exterminator it likely was none of my business- I was here to keep the pests away, and I surely would.\n\n\"Welcome,\" Arachne said later that evening after the guests arrived, as we gathered before a wide dinner spread that seemed to be set for too many, each of us with a glass of champagne, \"And know as you dine tonight, that you are among friends. Only friends, as we discuss the betterment of this world. Rest assured, if there were any impostors among us, they have been removed- and there were plenty! I'd like to recognize a few of you, from Marsha Annallee, with your three billion dollar contribution to the fund. And Mikhail, your specialization in discovering youths with incredible powers to better our cause has not gone unnoticed. Cheers, and be merry tonight, so we may build a better world tomorrow.\"\n\nGlasses rang together, and I sensed the room relax with his words, some unknown tension immediately alleviating. And staring around, I noticed several people smiling to me, raising their glasses in a cheers. People I had seen on the news, whose faces were as famous as most cereal brands. People that were now gathered together for some cause, one I knew little about.\n\nPeople whose bodies looked all too similar in size and shape to the luggage in the shed.\n\n***\n\nBy Leo, a story in the Star Child universe.\n\n[Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/leoduhvinci/comments/byne2z/spinning_the_web_part_2_a_star_child_short/)\n\nThis story anticipated to be severon here and /r/leoduhvinci. If you want more now to hold yourself over check out the Star Child story, [it’s free on reddit](https://www.reddit.com/r/leoduhvinci/comments/65jl9n/star_child_part_1/)", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,835	10,425	0.09621	893	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You are an old African priest tired of watching your people being terrorized by vampires. You saw the weather forecast, and you know your job. Today, you'll bless the rains down in Africa.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "I hear the drums echoing tonight. The vampire I am stalking pays no attention. Instead, she hears only whispers of some quiet conversation, probably in some village far away. I pull out my book and jot down the details as she transforms into her bat form. Instead, at the last second, she turns to me, and I realise, she's coming in. I check my watch and edit my entry. 12:30, flight. As she swoops in, I unleash the full power of my holy relic. The moonlit wings reflect the stars that guide me towards salvation, as I cleanse another impurity from this land. But this is small fry. I turn to Kilimanjaro in the distance, rising like Olympus above the Serengeti. I seek to cure what's deeply embedded inside this land, sucking its life out from within. I know that I must do what's right.\n\nYears ago, I stopped an old man along the way, hoping to find some long forgotten words or ancient melodies that could aid my quest in eliminating the vampire curse once and for all. He turned to me as if to say, \"Hurry boy, she's waiting there for you,\" gesturing towards distant thunderclouds rising over Mt. Kilimanjaro. The corners of his eyes crinkled as I understood what he was saying. And so I embarked on the longest quest of my life. At times, I had become frightened of this thing I had become, a recluse who killed without remorse. But I knew it was gonna take some time to do the things we never had. Live in peace. Be free.\n\n\"It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you, my dear old quest,\" I grit out as I scale Kilimanjaro. With the amount of effort I had placed into my incantations, there's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do. As I finally reach the summit, I see a black horde sweep towards me on the horizon.\n\n\"So they had come,\" I muse aloud. No matter, they were too late. Their reign over terror over the plains was over. The rumbling thunder gives me my signal, and I think back to what the old man said as I raise my hands. Hurry boy, it's waiting there for you.\n\nI bless the rains down in Africa.\n\nThe vampire horde disintegrates in the holy downpour. I keep my hands up in the air, pouring every ounce of my energy into my spell. Perhaps, it would be my final one. It's gonna take some time to do the things we never had after I'm gone.\n\nLive in peace. Be free.\n\nI bless the rains down in Africa.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nEDIT: Woah. Thanks for the gilds and kind comments. <3", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,084	10,422	0.055789	1,053	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You are a mighty dragon, the kind who kidnaps princesses. However, you only do it because princesses inherently have the ability to talk to animals and you're starved for intelligent conversation.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "“You’ll never get away with this,” the princess said through tears. “Don’t you know how these things end? You’ll be slain by some mighty hero looking to win my hand in marriage.”\n\nThe dragon rested its mountainous body upon an equally large heap of golden treasure. Its reptilian eyes made the princess step back as it turned its head.\n\n“Do not be foolish my dear, this is nothing like the tales you’ve read in your human books. A man does not defeat a giant fire-breathing monster with nothing but a sword and a determined heart. In fact, he possesses the common-sense to not try at all.”\n\nThe princess wiped away her tears. “Stop pretending to know what humans are like, you’re just a monster.”\n\nTo the princess’s surprise, the dragon cast down its gaze, looking almost melancholic. “I’ve lived for millennia, and I’ve observed the never-ending power games of your kin. Human lives contain no virtue, only the perpetual struggle to move up the social ladder and make sure everyone else stays below you.”\n\nThe princess was staring at the dragon, unsure of how she was supposed to argue with something fifty times her size that could incinerate her in an instant. “Uhm . . . some humans are good. I’ve given out bread to the kingdom’s poor without expecting anything in return, that’s good, right?”\n\nThe dragon let out a sigh that echoed through the cave. “Yes princess, you are intelligent and kind, as princesses usually are. That’s why you’re blessed with the ability to speak to creatures such as myself—That’s why I brought you here”\n\n“Because you’re so altruistic that you wanted to save me from the other very bad humans?” The princess crossed her arms. “How very nice of you.”\n\nThe dragon smiled, revealing teeth that rivaled the height of the princess’s entire body. “No, because I’ve been starved for exactly this. Someone who will push back against my cynicism, someone who dares respond to me with snarky phrases. I have been looking for intelligent conversation, and you are already performing.”\n\nThe princess sat down on the edge of the heap of gold, kicking a golden vase out across the cave floor. “First time someone wants me for something else than my looks or my heritage—and it’s a damn dragon.”\n\n“I told you humans are the worst.”\n\nThe princess let her body go limp, lying down with her back resting against the golden treasure. “Why me? Surely, there must have been hundreds of other human princesses you could have chosen.”\n\n“Oh there have been many before you. So many that I promised myself I would never kidnap a princess again. Until now, where centuries void of intelligent conversation was threatening to destroy my sanity.”\n\nThe princess smiled. “So you do care about humans after all?”\n\n“To the extent that they provide me with interesting conversation, yes. But . . .” the dragon’s voice lost some of its force. “It’s just, well you see, unlike me you humans don’t live forever, so. . .”\n\nThe princess climbed the heap of gold and laid a hand upon the dragon’s large scales. “I can tell you’re hurting. What was it that made you promise not to kidnap princesses anymore?”\n\nThe dragon let out another massive sigh, with so much force that the wind bounced off the wall and made the princess’s dress billow.\n\n“That it’s so sad when you eventually die.”", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
2,563	10,420	0.032457	1,542	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "You have a stable job that’s rewarding, a wonderful wife, two young children, and you just bought your first home... You awake. “Thanks for grinding out those beginning levels for me.” The stranger says. “Your money’s in the bank.”", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "You're groggy...the lights are too bright, the noises too loud. \n\"Wai... Wha.... But.... Jul, where'sjul\" you say in a voice more slurred than coherent.\n\"hey, hey...it's ok, this is totally normal, just take some deep breaths while the disconnect finishes up\" says a voice overhead.\n\nYou turn your head, trying to grasp reality; not recognizing your surroundings, you try to swallow the panic and bile rising in your throat slowly realizing that you're, in fact, finally awake. It was all a lie. An incentivized lie. \n\n\"takes a few seconds to get your bearings friend, don't worry, this is completely normal. Hell, you're already doing better than most. There's usually a lot more flailing and kicking. I'm just happy we don't have to strap you down like the last chick hehehe\" the voice overhead blares, the chuckling making you feel violently ill.\n\nEver so slowly, like the heartbeat of a tortoise, images start playing like a sideshow in your mind. Driving towards a looming glass building, walking through angular titanium doors that could have been pulled straight from science fiction. The sensation of fear and anticipation as men in labcoats strapped monitors to you, a catheter in you, a robotic looking helmet and visor on your head. The thoughts flicker rapidly between these faint but somewhat familiar scenes, and of your life with Julie, your children, your corporate level job you worked so hard for, the anniversaries, the parties, the fights, the tragedies. Julie. Julie. \n\nBut these images start fading as you suck in more and more air; your brain tries desperately to remember the smell of her hair and the sensation of her hands, but your mind is now relentless in reminding you of what you did, and why. \n\nYou once again feel the shocking desperation of extreme poverty , scrounging for food in alleyways, doing the unthinkable for a few dollars.\n\nSimlife. You now remember you had seen it everywhere; ads plastered to those same alley walls that you would stare at desperately while performing acts that required strong mental distraction, otherwise you would have just killed yourself from the shame. \"Short on cash? Come join the Sim life experience and get paid today! Guaranteed $1,000.00 for your first job\" the ads would read. What's a dollar worth? You knew damn well what it was worth, and in this life you had done anything to earn it. \n\nYou were back now. Fully back. Immersed in the misery that is your existence. Yeah you had made a cool grand. You wouldn't have to worry about food for a while, you could keep couch surfing and street sleeping to stretch the money out. You should feel relieved. It had been years of misery, you kept telling yourself. This money changes everything.\n\nBut something kept gnawing at the back of your mind. That life. That life you lived, Bill Christopher with his beautiful wife Julie. Their 2 perfect children Matt and Kelly. Why didn't these memories go away? Why wouldn't they go away? You felt an immense sadness crushing your chest with the weight of a thousand disappointments. To never kiss them goodnight again. Yeah it wasn't real, but fuck if it didn't feel like the most real thing you had ever experience, even moreso than this shit show of a life you were enslaved to.\n\nYou look next to you and see him. Laid up on the table next to yours, same monitors, same helmet, just recently put under so he could now enjoy the life that YOU fucking made with them. Your efforts, your tragedies, your love story. Yours. You know it was his voice you had heard near the end there....thanking you for \"the grind.\" You grimace remembering his greasy voice. You now hated him more than anything or anyone you had ever encountered. \n\nThe rage was sudden; not even you expected it. You had slept on the streets so you knew your way around a sharp object. In one swift motion you lunge for the scissors on the tray table next to you and you plunge them into the neck folds of this undeserving fat bastard next to you. Who the fuck does he think he is, you think, taking my family, MY FUCKING CHILDREN. Somewhere nearby alarms blare, panic ensues; you see movement all around you, security rushing from behind the glass trying to get into the Simlife suite that you're in. \n\nThe voice overhead is screaming now with desperation and worry \"CALM DOWN, YOU NEED TO CALM THE FUCK DOWN, SECURITY GET IN THERE QUICKLY. SAVE HIM AND STRAP HER THE FUCK DOWN, SHE'S NOT TOLERATING THE COMEBACK, WE NEED TO SEDATE HER.....NOW!\" \n\nYou look down at your hands, painted in crimson life, and you purposefully make your way across the room and lock and jam the doors.\n\nIt won't hold them forever. You know this. But it doesn't matter. None of it does. As you aggressively retrieve the blood soaked helmet off his cantankerous skull and ease it back onto yours, you activate the simulation and feel yourself returning, just one more time, even if it's for a few minutes, back into Julie's warm embrace, back into her world. Your home. Your real life\n\nAs your eyes finally start to shut, you slowly smirk, realizing that no matter the outcome, in the next few minutes peace will finally find you.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,459	10,417	0.072799	2,461	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " \"Come on, aren't you a little old to have an imaginary friend?\" He was right, but it seemed so real. \"I guess...\" \"So maybe make some real friends, ones who don't have scaly skin and forked tongues.\" I stopped in my tracks. \"I never told you what it looked like.\"", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Charlie stood by the creek, wriggling his toes through the brown muck before washing it off in the gurgling water. His friend stood and watched him do this twice, before finding some appropriately sized stepping stones to hop across. A few moments later, Charlie followed. It was good to be back out here. It was like putting on an old comfy sweater, or a well worn boot. It felt right, to come back to this same place Charlie had spent most of his childhood playing in.\n\nAlex made his way through the woods ahead, the trees looming ominously overhead. It was an ancient forest, boughs and leaves providing a spattering of cover through a tangling undergrowth. Charlie took a deep breath, appreciating the scent of loam and earth. It felt good to be away from town, away from work, to spend some time with an old friend. It seemed to be getting a little dark, though Charlie attributed that to the tree cover. For a brief moment, it almost looked like some of the branches were reaching down. But the image passed as quickly as it arose.\n\nAlex scampered over a small ridge of tangled roots, doing a half stumble, half run to a small clearing in the wood. Charlie followed, and saw with some fascination a ring of speckled crimson mushrooms in the center of the glade. It was weirdly perfect, with another concentric ring of emerald mushrooms guarding the inner circle.\n\nAlex walked closer to the circle, leaning down and inspecting a particularly large green mushroom in the outer circle.\n\n\"I've been meaning to talk to you,\" Alex said. Charlie assumed something as much, the strangely quiet car ride had been a bit disconcerting, but he hadn't said anything about it through most of the hike. Every attempt at conversation had been stymied at every turn.\n\n\"Okay,\" Charlie said, weighing the words slightly. \"About what?\"\n\nA bit more silence, and Alex flicked another mushroom, and then looked up, as if waiting for something. His sandy blonde hair stirred by an errant wind through the glade.\n\n\"Your imaginary friend. You're almost twenty, dude. I know its been your secret, but you're way too old for this shit.\"\n\nCharlie hissed slightly. Alex was his only friend he'd mentioned this pervasive thing to. It made Charlie feel uneasy. He knew it was unnatural. He knew it was strange. He knew it wasn't something he should still have, but this thing would follow him. A small growing ball of doubt in his belly warned him that it was something far more serious than a childhood obsession. Maybe some kind of genuine hallucination. \n\nThe thing looked so real. It was as dark as obsidian, tall and sleek, with scales closer to gems than anything organic. Its eyes were that same azure fire, like looking into a neutron star. As a kid, it'd been entertaining. Something to play with in the woods. More like a pet than anything else. But now it seemed more intelligent. Now it seemed to whisper.\n\nCharlie shook his head to banish the thought.\n\n\"It's still there,\" he admitted to Alex. \"I'm starting to think something may be wrong with me.\"\n\nThat seemed to annoy Alex more than anything else. As if someone had placed some kind of imaginary weight between Alex's shoulder blades. Charlie could see him stoop. Or was he just imagining things? Charlie had trouble trusting his vision.\n\n\"Of course there's something wrong with you. Who hallucinates an imaginary friend? It was old when you were nine, it's completely fucked up now.\"\n\nCharlie kicked a small clod of dirt. So much for a fun hike with a friend.\n\n\"So I have to ask. How often do you see it?\"\n\nCharlie thought about it.\n\n\"Every week or so, it used to follow me everywhere, but now it seems to want to talk to me, rather than just be next to me.\"\n\nA tightening in Alex's jaw. \n\n\"What's up about it anyway? This is my problem, not yours.\"\n\nAlex stood up, making his way to the other side of the glade, and for the first time Charlie seemed to sense a kind of foreboding cloud, as if the sunlight was being soaked up from everywhere but the glade.\n\n\"I'm worried,\" Alex finally said. \"No one should have a giant lizard following them around.\"\n\nCharlie's heart stopped in his chest, before thumping again, so loud it seemed to fill his whole world.\n\n\"I never told you what it looked like,\" Charlie said quietly.\n\nAlex whirled to face me, and there was something in his face, something else in his eyes. Like he'd made a mistake. Like he was toeing some kind of knife's edge, and had stumbled over the side.\n\nBehind Alex, he saw the undergrowth part, and now his heart leapt into his throat. Another lizard, but not his own. Huge and lilac, with a mouth open to reveal white serrated fangs. Its eyes stared at Charlie, fixated on prey.\n\nCharlie tried to say something, but all that came out was some kind of thin squeak. Alex looked at him with a kind of pity, if pity was coated in merciless resolve.\n\n\"I can't let you leave, Charlie. I didn't mean for it to happen like this, but better now than never.\"\n\nThe lizard began to enter the clearing, breaching the near infinite wall of blackness throughout the glade. Charlie was ringed in, and when he tried to turn and run, he seemed to be pushed back by another force. As if someone gave a rough two handed shove into his belly, and he fell onto his back. He felt like some entity stood on his chest, preventing him from rising. From running. From doing anything but wait to be devoured by something he'd spent his entire life believing to never exist. But here stood an opposite, if equally strange counterpart to his own. The same hind legs, the same extended forearms, the same alien intelligence in its eyes.\n\n\"You're the only one I know about, Charlie,\" Alex apologized. Though to Charlie, it sounded bizarre and choked.\n\n\"For the ritual to work Charlie, it has to be you. Or someone like you. I'm sorry.\"\n\nThe lizard honed in on him, the mouth opened wide, its tail swishing through the wet grass. For a moment, Charlie was convinced he would wake up, that this was all just a dream.\n\nUntil a roar broke the near silence, and above him stood his own lizard, long claws gleaming in the remaining light.\n\n\"Impossible,\" Alex said. It came out weak, and Charlie got the strong suspicion that his own lizard wasn't supposed to be here. That something was going wrong. Was it the mushrooms or the glade? The forest or the wind that kept Charlie here, forced down like some kind of sacrificial lamb for something he could simply not understand.\n\nAlex's lizard stopped in its tracks, directly by the concentric circle of fungi. Its tail stopped swishing. This wasn't in the plan, it seemed. An easy kill. An easy meal. For what? For me, the lizard, or Alex?\n\nCharlie's own monster lowered its head, the jaw low, a thin layer of drool and saliva forming around the razor sharp teeth. It stood between Charlie and the oncoming predator.\n\nCharlie laid there in the grass, thinking. Debating. Weighing the nightmare in his mind. It should be a dream, all signs point to it being a dream. But he could feel the dampness of the grass seeping into his shirt, the blades of grass between his fingers, and far above, a perfectly blue sky.\n\nHe rolled onto his stomach, and stood up. He looked into the eyes of his own beast, feeling a kinship, something deeper than anything he could imagine. As if his soul was intertwined with this beast. It stood, dark as night, an imitation of something from an extinct time. Scales, tail, claws, teeth, an amalgamation of an ancient and foreboding natural world. Invisible to almost everyone. But not to Charlie.\n\nHe gave it a slight nod towards Alex's lizard. Something like a command, but closer to an extension of his will. Control, thrilling in its fullness. Whatever Alex was up to, Charlie couldn't say. But he was angered now. Angry at this betrayal, angry at the lie, at spending so long convinced something was wrong with him. That Charlie was crazy. The words came out in a voice Charlie could scarcely believe to be his own.\n\n\"Kill it.\"\n\nAt Charlie's command, the lizard, his imaginary friend, something he for so long treated as a nuisance opened its muzzle in a murderous hiss, teeth sharp and jagged.\n\nIt stood in front of its friend.\n\nAnd prepared to fight.\n\n[Part 2!](https://www.reddit.com/r/KallistoWrites/comments/gesdj5/the_glade_part_2/)", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
2,119	10,416	0.070639	1,927	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "they're roommates and coworkers. They just do this epic battle schtick in the evenings because they're so bored at work.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"Calm down everyone!\" yelled Silk, as he approached a bustling crowd surrounding the entrance to St Mary's train-station. He massaged his temples through his mask with a single index finger. Did the crowd have to be so freaking loud? It had been one of those day's at work -- one stress after another; he really wasn't in the mood for faux-heroics. \n\nHe should have given Martin a call at lunchtime. Told him tonight was off. That's what he should have done. But he thought he'd be feeling better. Now what options did he have? Neither of them carried their phones when in costume (no pockets in their tights), so if he was going to calm this crowd down, he'd have to find Martin and 'pacify' him.\n\nIn his left hand -- the one not massaging his head in an effort to stop it exploding -- he held a little brown bucket. \n\n\"It's Silk!\" shouted an onlooker. \"Thank God it's you, Silk! Thank God!\"\n\nHe looked at the lady and tried to smile, but it turned instantly into a gaping yawn. \"Is... Is it Beat-Hooven again?\" he asked lazily.\n\n\"Yes! He's on the train. And he's got a whole lot of hostages. I think he's going to kill them!\"\n\nSilk stuck out his tongue and bit down. \"Difficult situation. Very tricky. But, I'll see what I can do.\" He placed the bucket down where he was standing and gave his usual speech-cum-terms-and-conditions. \"Thank you all for being here tonight to help me. Through your cheering and positivity I will not just battle my oldest and gravest foe, but I will defeat him!\" He lowered his voice slightly and could feel his cheeks redden. \"If you'd like to support me outside of these situations, please consider leaving a donation in the bucket here. It's easy being a hero -- it's not easy paying rent in a city like this. And as for the medical expenses...\"\n\nAnd with that, he began wading through the crowd. Hands pawed at him, trying to touch the hero, to encourage him. But it only slowed him. Irritated him. Like being in quicksand, he thought-grumbled.\n\nOnly a few of his most ardent supporters followed him into the station -- most people's joy at seeing their idol was trumped by the fear of mortal danger. And even those few had scattered by the time he'd climbed the steps and made it to the tracks. On them, was a long iron monster, belching and rocking. All windows and doors were closed, but he could see pale faces inside that had turned to look at him, pressed against the glass.\n\nHe raised his hands to his mouth and yelled, \"Beat-Hooven! It is I, Silk. Your battle is with me, not the innocent passengers of that train! Let them go and come out and face me, mano-a-mano!\"\n\nMoments passed. Minutes. Martin, he thought in annoyance, will you please stop showboating. I'm not in the mood. I just want to get home and play a little playstation, eat a little pizza, and say goodnight to this shitty day.\n\nFinally, the train hissed and the doors opened. \n\nPassengers scuttled out from it as if a dam had been opened. They mostly thanked him as they passed and wished him good luck. \n\n\"Donation bucket is outside the station!\" he said. He noticed most of the men and women were in business suits. Good train to hijack, he thought. At least Martin had got that right -- we should easily get a enough for a pizza or two.\n\nMusic trickled out from the train. A soft sonata. Silk let himself relax, let his posture slouch, as he drifted into the music.\n \nHe was just starting to feel somewhat calm, when Beat-Hooven jumped off the train. \n\n\"Silk!\" he screamed maniacally. \"Prepare for a crescendo! You shall become my most famous requiem!\"\n\nSilk glanced around him. No passengers had stayed. Good. He turned back to Martin. \"Cut it out, Mart. My head is about to explode, I swear.\"\n\nBeat-Hooven glared at him and whispered, \"Stay in character, idiot. Besides, blowing up isn't your power.\"\n\n\"There's no one here. So relax. And I know it's not my power, but I've got a pretty nasty migraine and--\"\n\n\"Oh please,\" Martin said, rolling his eyes. \"A headache. That's what you've got. If you had a migraine you'd be chucking up in a gutter right now. You've no idea how bad they are.\"\n\n\"Whatever. My head hurts. Can we just go?\"\n\n\"Go?\" Martin looked annoyed. \"What about the spectacle? The show?\" He held out a hand and poked Silk in his chest. \"What about all the carefully choreographed heroics we've been practising night after night, hour after--ouch!\"\n\nSilk had grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back.\n\n\"Let me go! That frikking hurts, idiot.\"\n\n\"We're going home. Now. I'm going to march you like this out of the station, so people can see that I defeated you, and we can maybe rustle up a few more donations. Then, we're off. I'll fly you to 'jail' or something.\"\n\nMartin grumbled as Silk pushed him back into the station, down the stairs, and back out into the street.\n\n\"What...\" Silk said in surprise.\n\nMartin let out a stifled laugh.\n\n\"What...\" Silk repeated. No one was there. No crowd. No bucket. Someone had taken their donation bucket! Well that was just great! Wait, not no one. One young boy was standing there, back against the wall.\n\n\"Hey! Kid!\" Silk cried out. \"Where'd everyone go?\"\n\nThe boy turned to him. \"Oh. NightRaven showed up on 4th street threatening to blow up the block. Word is Eve is heading there to confront her.\"\n\nSilk let out a weary sigh. He couldn't believe Janette and Claudia would do this on one of their nights -- again!. They'd agreed to the timetable! He'd go over to their apartment tomorrow and give them a piece of his mind. And right now, his mind wasn't very peaceful. \n\nHe said to the kid, \"And why aren't you there watching them? The 'hottest' hero and villain pairing in the city. That no other duo -- no matter their long and incredibly exciting history -- can match, apparently.\"\n\nThe kid shrugged. \"Don't like superheroes anymore. Seen it all before.\"\n\nSilk sighed and released his hold on Martin. \"I'm starting to feel the same way.\"\n\nMartin, for some reason, was grinning. He placed his arm around Silk's shoulders. \"Ah, shit happens, pal. Don't let it get to you.\"\n\n\"Shit does happen,\" he agreed. \"It truly does.\"\n\n\"Come on, I'll buy the pizza.\"", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
5,916	10,414	0.13269	1,969	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " After the Battle of Hogwarts, Dudley met a woman and they had a daughter,Sophie. Sophie is the light of their lives,she's always been a pleasant child. The morning of Sophie's 11th birthday,there’s a knock at the door. Harry is here to visit his cousin for the first time in almost 20 years.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Harry walked up the road towards number four Privet Drive. Passing by a few relics of his childhood he never expected to see again. He gave a short smile as he passed by Mrs. Figgs' house remembering the smell of all the cats. It didn't look like she lived there anymore. Harry, if he were honest with himself, had lost track of her. He has lost track of many things on this street.\n\nHe had sent a few letters to Dudley over the years. Most of what he heard back at first was simple information. Just news about his Aunt and Uncle. Aunt Petunia has been sick and in the hospital. She has been having trouble remembering things lately so Harry thought it was just best to stay away. He still sends flowers to her room every week. Just leaves the name off the card. Dudley gave him the room number. Uncle Vernon passed away a few years ago. His heart finally caught up with him. Harry attended the funeral, but kept his distance from the family. He did see a little girl with her mother though. Maybe two years old at the time. Big round face like Dudley always had growing up. Harry thought to himself if he put a little grey mustache on her she would look a bit like Uncle Vernon. Still cute as could be though.\n\nWhen Dudley wasn't writing about his Aunt and Uncle he wrote about Sophie. It was odd reading of Dudley doting over his daughter. It was really sweet, but off putting when he thought of how Dudley was when they were kids.\n\nIt had been years since Harry had seen Dudley. He couldn't help, but wonder as he walked up the stairs to the door how he would react. Harry looked around for a moment before knocking on the door. He waited. For a moment nothing happened. Harry considered turning around. Maybe they had went somewhere it was her birthday after all. Then something started stirring inside the house, barreling down the stairs.\n\nThe door opened and standing there in front of Harry was a little girl. Not as little as he remembered, but definitely the same little girl. Tall for her age and still with the round face. They looked at each other. Her face lit up at this new visitor as she said, with only the voice of child who has eaten far too many sweet could.\n\n\"Hello! Did you know its my birthday.\"\n\nHarry stared. He said nothing for moment then he let out.\n\n\"Yes. Yes in fact that is -\"\n\nBut he was cut off by a booming voice from the other room. Harry reflexes kicked in as he jumped at the sound.\n\n\"Sophie, sweetie what have I told you about opening the door for strangers.\"\n\n\"But Dad I think its the mailman he might have more presents.\"\n\n\"Honey I told you there's no -\"\n\nAnd Dudley stopped as he turned the corner from the kitchen into the hallway leading up to the front door. From a mile away from down the hall Harry and Dudley looked at each other for the first time in 20 years. Sophie broke the silence.\n\n\"Well who are you then sir?\"\n\nDudley interjected saying \"Sophie could you please go up to your room for a few minutes. I'll come and get you soon.\"\n\nShe pouted for a moment, but trotted up the stairs at her father's request. Dudley said nothing. Harry couldn't get a read on him. Dudley had moved a step past Vernon and grown a full beard. It did a great job of hiding whatever he was thinking. Harry trying to break the tension asked.\n\n\"So did she get your old room or mine. Yours was always a bit bigger, but I had the window looking out the front.\"\n\nDudley didn't so much as speak, but waved Harry into the house. Harry followed Dudley in through the doorway and sat next to the fireplace. Dudley stepped away into the kitchen and Harry could hear the clutter of the teapot on the stove.\n\nWhile he waited Harry looked around the strangely unfamiliar room. Aunt Petunia's old wallpaper had been taken down to reveal more of the wood paneling underneath. The furniture had all changed. Less antique pieces and more functional or comfortable chairs has taken their place. Still looked rustic just more Dudley's style. The fireplace was lined with pictures of Dudley's family. Harry stood and picked up a family portrait of Dudley, Sophie, and a woman he had only seen once or twice he has known to be...\n\n\"Mary is out at the moment\" grumbled Dudley. \"Dropping of some stuff to mum she should be back soon.\"\n\nHe was carrying a plate with the teapot and a couple of old fashioned looking cups.\n\n\"Is this Aunt Petunia's old set?\" Harry said examining his cup which had certainly been repaired once before.\n\nDudley nodded as he silently poured them both some tea. He gingerly placed a couple of sugar cubes into his own cup.\n\n\"I er got Sophie a gift.\" Harry said ruffling through his pockets. \"I knew it was her birthday. She's already 11 that's um amazing. She's the same age as Albus.\"\n\nHarry trailed off as Dudley merely chuckled not saying a word taking the present and sitting it on the arm of his chair.\n\n\"Look I'm sorry for coming over unannounced, but this was important.\" Harry started to move his hand through his pocket again. \"Usually they don't do this, but I asked McGonagall and she said it was alright. I have a letter. Well, Sophie has a letter.\"\n\nDudley grew wide eyed and stared through Harry. He was stone faced and determined. There was a slight rattle as he almost dropped his cup onto his plate and he reached out his hand, open, towards Harry.\n\nHarry handed the letter to Dudley. He took it into both of his hands and examined the back running his fingers across the wax seal. The small ribbon attached weaved through his fingers as he flipped it over to see the address on the front.\n\nSophie Dursley\n\n4 Privet Drive\n\nThe Smallest Bedroom\n\nLittle Whinging, Surrey\n\nHis hands shook as he read the front, but Harry could not see his face. Dudley sat there staring at the letter for what seemed like ages. Harry watched him as slowly his cousin looked up at him. his eyes all puffy.\n\nDudley's voice echoed loudly off the walls of house as he called upstairs.\n\n\"Sophie could you come down here for a minute.\"\n\nImmediately bounding down the stairs, as if she had been listening from the top the whole time, came Sophie looking innocent as ever.\n\nDudley said \"Sophie I would like you to meet your uncle, Harry Potter. He has um been away for a while and it seems like he's back. I never told you this, but he saved my life once. He actually grew up here in your room. He brought you something.\"\n\nDudley reached out his hand holding the letter and gave it to Sophie. While she sat on the ground reading her letter Dudley leaned in and whispered to Harry.\n\n\"Do you think she will be okay there.\"\n\nHarry looked at his cousin and said \"Dudley, I think she will be brilliant.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nedit: Some typos and formatting", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,326	10,405	0.224248	1,510	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " The demon stands amid your destroyed kitchen screaming, “How? How were you able to summon me?!” You’re standing in the corner flipping through your grandma’s cookbook as fast as you can, screaming back, “I don’t know!! You were supposed to be chicken soup!”", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"Chicken soup?\" the demon thundered. \"Is that supposed to be an insult?\"\n\n\"No!\" Alicia cried, flipping frantically through the pages. \"This is my grandmother's cookbook, my — my mother used it all the time and nothing like this ever happened before!\" She looked up desperately. The demon stood before her, a towering mass of thick, pale-green muscle, with long, batlike wings spreading from his back, curled ivory horns sprouting from his forehead, and eyes like burning coals, his unsightly face a mask of bewilderment. \n\n\"Preposterous!\" he snarled. \"No mere cookbook could have summoned a demon — much less me! Let me see that!\" He held out a large, clawed hand and the book soared out of Alicia's grasp, through the air, and into his bared palm. The effect was instant: the book had no sooner touched his palm than his skin began to blister, bubbling and smoking as though his fist had been thrust into a roaring flame. \n\nHe let out a cry of pain and shock and flung the book away; it landed at Alicia's feet, and, somehow, it had landed on a page bearing an image of the very demon flashing his arms before her. \"What?\" she gasped, seizing the book. The demon's horns were smaller, its form not as powerfully built as the one standing before her, and the light in its eyes not yet as bright, but it was, unmistakably, him. And, she received an even greater jolt to see, he was standing with his arms around her grandmother. \n\nA caption underneath the picture read, \"Abraxas and Lily.\"\n\n\"This is you?\" Alicia whispered. \n\nThe demon paused in his swearing and flashing his burnt hands to shoot her another bemused look. \"What are you talking about?\"\n\nAlicia stood up and raised the book. The demon's eyes widened and seemed to burn even brighter than before. \"Lily,\" he said, and his voice was no longer loud and harsh, but soft, clear. \n\n\"You knew my grandmother?\" Alicia asked, overstepping the wreckage of what, a few minutes earlier, had been a working toaster, and moving slowly toward him. \n\n\"I did ... Lily Williams. She ... she made a deal once. Her soul for her daughter's — your mother's — life.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"She was sick. Very sick. She had very little time, your grandmother knew this, and so she enlisted the aid of the Underworld. In exchange for her soul, we would relieve her daughter of her sickness and lengthen her years. I was sent to collect her soul ten years later, back when I was a lower level demon. I had no care for humans. It didn't matter that I was ripping a mother from her child, it was simply business ... And then I met her, and I felt something I didn't know was possible for me — or any demon — to feel: love. \n\n\"I cannot tell you how she captivated me, enthralled me. And she felt the same way. We became lovers. I abandoned my duties, spared her soul, and we ran away together. But\" — he gulped — \"they found us. I knew they would, I tried to prepare myself for it, but it was worse than I could have imagined. We fought. She managed to escape, but I was captured and brought back to the Underworld for punishment, and I received the news later ...\"\n\n\"That she died?\" whispered Alicia.\n\n\"No ... that her soul had somehow left her body. She was an empty shell when they found her, but her essence had never entered the Underworld, or the world above. I knew that she was a practicing witch — not very skilled, I will admit — but it seemed that she was able to move her own soul to a place where the demons could not obtain it. And now, at last, after all these years ... I think I lnow where it is ...\" He pointed a shaking finger at the cookbook, and Alicia, though visited by the urge to yell that the demon was wrong, that the idea of that happening was absurd, did no such thing. \n\nShe had always felt strangely close to her grandmother when she held that book, and now, it seemed, she knew why ... \"Gran?\" she said quietly to the book. \"Is ... are you there?\"\n\nThe pages suddenly started to turn of their own accord, flipping all the way to a blank page near the back. Words appeared upon the paper, in what seemed to be shining red ink: I am.\n\nAlicia gave a little gasp and clutched her heart. A soft moan escaped the demon's lips, but before either could speak, the book flew into the air yet again and landed, this time, in front of Abraxas, more words appearing on the paper: Hello, Abraxas. It's been so long.\n\nr/MysticScribbles\n\nOkay, I'll admit, this one kind of got away from me and I couldn't really think how best to end it so I just sort of did. Any comment or criticism is appreciated!\n\n> Edit: I'm quite busy at the moment, but since so many people have requested it, I'll get a part 2 up on my sub as soon as I'm done.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
4,336	10,401	0.014879	1,046	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "You are a guard in a video game. The main character thinks that they are always able to successfully sneak past you. They don't, you notice every time but would prefer not to have you and your friends be mercilessly slaughtered.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The brass rings at noon, like the bells of some demented church. The women scream. Today it is Evette. Her voice breaks, and from the cauldron it echoes with a ghostly terror.\n\n\nBe a man, my mind says. These are your people.\n\n\nBut my courage is as bold as my shadow. The sounds of pilfering happen and I march away from it all. The other guards stare at me. They know. But they are complicit as well.\n\n\nAs the time passes we feel his presence. He is a madman and he hops in his manic way. The jittering of steel sounds like a drum. I feel an executioner's glare upon my neck. The heat of powerful magic passes me by. He hops side to side until he is directly behind me.\n\n\nThe he crouches like some animal. He walks up to me. The shadow pulls in this coming afternoon and I wonder that it flows like my life. He walks past me with Evette's goods. A bit of her dress trails his foot.\n\n\nSick. Do something. If you call yourself a man you should do something.\n\n\nBut I don't. I never do. Living is not the best, but it is all I know. I think of poor Evette but then I think of Anastasia. I think how she is at home with Bernard. Little Bernard who needs a father.\n\n\nBeside the wall is Kilton. He stares from the corner of his eye. He has a daughter. Was it Mary or Stacy? I forget. But his eyes have empathy. They understand. He understands. There is no shame in this.\n\n\nThe man hops in front of me like a madman. Then he looks me in the eye. I notice his sword. It is an ancient blade and his hands are strong and skilled. I would not stand a chance against him.\n\n\nAnd he stares in silence and compels me to talk.\n\n\n\"Citizen,\" I say.\n\n\nAnd he mocks me with his silence and he hops some more.\n\n\n\"Yo man, what's up?\"\n\n\nI can't understand much.\n\n\n\"Everything all right?\"\n\n\nAnd he hops towards me and my life flashes. He hops in challenge and I feel my manhood challenged.\n\n\n\"You want to come at me, man? You know I just put a pot on that bitch's head and robbed her blind? Huh? You know that? Robbed her blind! You know why she was blind? Cause I put a pot on her head.\"\n\n\nAnd he hops more and more. My blood boils but Bernard is on my mind.\n\n\n\"Whatcha gonna do bout that huh?\"\n\n\nHe is too strong. Too powerful.\n\n\nBack down. You have to back down.\n\n\nBut another part of my mind was suicidal.\n\n\nNo! Be a man and fight!\n\n\nMaybe one day I will listen to that part of my mind. Maybe one day I will give in. But not today. Today I live.\n\n\n\"I used to be an adventurer like you. Then I took an arrow in the knee...\"\n\n\nAnd he laughs at me and degrades me some more. I feel emasculated but at least I know I will come home to Anastasia tonight. Kilton looks at me and nods. Then he looks away. Such is the life of a guard.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
2,214	10,400	0.005168	1,007	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You've accidentally summoned an ancient, long-forgotten god while trying to pronounce furniture names at IKEA. Fortunately, the employees are prepared as this has happened before.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"[MALSJÖ](https://www.ikea.com/us/en/catalog/products/60327774/)\" I said. Or tried to say, given I had no idea how an \"O\" with two dots above was pronounced.\n\nThe lights dimmed and flickered. Everyone else in the vicinity slowed to a standstill as if frozen in time.\n\nThe black TV unit I was considering started to shake and change shape. Bulbous eyes bulged out of the top. The frame rounded and the front sliding glass panels fell out, revealing a gaping maw housing an inky blackness that looked bottomless.\n\nThe thing roared, its eyes fixing on me. \"Get in my belly.\" I felt, more than heard the words. I stumbled back and fell, and the thing advanced toward me. It crouched and leapt... and crashed into an invisible barrier that flickered brightly for an instant, then disappeared again.\n\n\"Demonslayer to the living room department.\" The intercom said. \"Demonslayer, living room department.\"\n\nIn disbelief, I looked around. A young woman in an oversized IKEA shirt and holding a glowing sword was running toward me. I ducked as she jumped over me. The invisible field didn't seem to have an effect on her, and she buried her sword in one of the demon's eyes.\n\nBut that didn't stop it. With a roar of pain and rage, it opened its mouth wider, if that were possible, and inhaled.\n\nWith a shout, the IKEA worker gabbed ahold of a nearby bed frame, her legs getting sucked into the things mouth.\n\nI shouted a wordless cry of confused anger, and ran toward the demon from the side. Passing through the invisible field raised the hair on my skin, and of a sudden I could feel the wind from the demon's inhale. As my feet slid closer to the beast, I grabbed the sword, pulling it out of the one eye and stabbing it into the second. Finally, the demon lay still, defeated.\n\n\"Good job!\" the IKEA girl shouted excitedly, limping over to me. \"This one will make a great harvest.\"\n\n\"Wha... WHAT?\" I asked. The people around us reanimated as if nothing had happened.\n\n\"OK, short version first.\" She said. \"Some of these pieces of furniture are named after demons we found named in an ancient scroll. Unfortunately, we don't know how to pronounce the names, so we leave it to customers to find the right name by trial and error.\"\n\n\"But what about the invisible barrier?\"\n\n\"Oh that! Well, the twists and turns of the customer path in IKEA form a pentagram of human blood. Though technically the human blood is till contained in the living humans themselves, which is preferable.\"\n\n\"And when you slay a demon, you harvest it?\" I asked.\n\n\"Oh yes! The black market for demon parts is very lucrative. We couldn't maintain our low furniture prices without subsidizing it with demon sales.\"\n\n\"One last question.\" I said. \"Are you taking demonslayer applications?\"\n\n\"Well, you did prove yourself just now.\" She said, eyeing me up and down. \"I'll put in a word with the manager. We might even start you above minimum wage.\"\n\n\"I'll take what I can get.\"", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,371	10,400	0.00752	1,313	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "Alters, who alter their genes, Augmented, who augment flesh with machines, and Ascended, who uploaded their consciousness. After centuries of coexistence, the tenuous peace between the ideologies is threatened.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"Father please. We must leave,\" pleaded Euna. \n\nThe chief of the village shook his head slowly as he gazed at his people. \"For centuries this has been our home, Euna. But did you know Euna, before this, we had nothing. You do not know because you weren't born yet. Our ancestors fought with their lives to make this forest a home for us. If we leave now, and abandon what we have, then we will be throwing away all that our ancestors have done for us.\"\n\nEuna turned her gaze to the horizon. Far above the lush green forest, looming over the horizon like a storm, was a fleet of ships. \n\n\"But father! If we don't leave, what will we do? We'll be slaughtered!\" Euna cried as she tugged at her father's arm. \n\nFor a moment, the village chief displayed sadness and pain in his expression as he watched his daughter. But then he turned his gaze to his people, and saw. Unwavering courage and determination glistened in their eyes like fire. They would not yield. They would fight. Even to the death. \n\nThe chief spoke, a steadfast voice that carried its way to the crowd that had gathered. \"Even if we run now, sooner or later they will come for us. I will stay and fight. Those who will standby me... step forward.\"\n\nAnd with those words, everyone stepped forward. \n\nEuna watched in silence as her people began to roar, a warcry that would be heard by the fleet of Augmented. She had heard the stories. The Augmented lived in colossal mechanical cities. Spires of machinery and technology that vastly outpaced the rest. They were, by far, the largest race to emerge from Humanity. Vastly outnumbering the rest. Then came the Altered, who were the epitome of genetic phenomenon. For a time, the Altered were superior. A single Altered was capable of taking on a troop of Augmented. But the Augmented learned, and grew mechanically. Devising weapons and defenses that became more devastating and effectual with each fight against the Altered. Then there was the Ascended, but most say they were merely fables. That none really existed. But some say that the Ascended were everywhere, that they were a collective of many that existed as a singular, all-encompassing entity. That they were virtually, a god. \n\nFor all of her life, these stories were - just that, stories. But now she saw. Beyond the verdant glade that their village had nested peacefully for centuries was now a force of machinery that would eliminate their village with more efficiency than any force of nature. \n\nShe didn't understand. What could a village of Altered hidden in the forest for centuries do?\n\nThen she saw. \n\nHer fellow villagers that she had known all her life as simply beautiful and graceful in appearance, suddenly changed into beings of hulking absurdities. Malformed wings of scale and feathers sprouted, as limbs grew into trees. Their eyes shifted, and suddenly they were eyes of crimson and pupils like slits. They were taller than the trees now, but one of them towered above the rest. \n\nIt was her father. \n\nA golden mane rested on his shoulders. His lips of stone yawned open to reveal teeth like diamonds. He spoke, an unearthly and unfamiliar voice. \"Take flight my angels.\"\n\nAnd with that, they flew. They flew into the horizon where they would meet death.\n\nEuna cried as she watched the first Altered fall out of the sky. Wings singed and head incinerated into nothing. The village, her family, they were all going to die. Her heart hurt, and she let anger erase the pain. She let herself change. Euna would fight. And she knew that she would probably die the same way.\n\nBut a voice spoke. A voice that was many but at the same time, it was one.\n\n'A Way' it whispered into her mind.\n\nHer vision distorted. Suddenly, she could see beyond the horizons. She could feel her mind dip into a well of memories. And suddenly, she knew what she had to do. \n\nEuna took flight.\n\n--------\n--------\nGotta go to work! if I do write a part two it would probably be tomorrow...\n \n/r/em_pathy\n\nEdit* part 2 done, click the link below!\n\n[Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/Em_pathy/comments/8vimt3/the_altered_the_augmented_and_the_ascended/)\n\n\n\n\n\n", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,108	10,399	0.053813	947	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You're walking to work, then suddenly a person in a white suit appears and says \"Uh yeah I've accidentally permanently stopped time and it'll take me 2 months to fix it, but somehow you're not frozen in time. But hey, whatever object you touch should still work, so uh good luck and have fun.\"", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "5 minutes ago. It all happened 5 minutes ago, I lost my best friend, the love of my life.\n\nWe were having our Sunday walk around town, window shopping the various boutiques of this nice midsized city. Hands holding a little weirdly since I was a little too tall so when we held hands hers clung onto mine, I remember the weight. We came across this one eccentric hat shop called Top Apparel. It was small but with a large variety of hats sitting on shelves. The cashier was playing on his phone slumped over on his elbow while lean standing on the glass desk the register was on. We tried on what felt like every hat, but with every hat a persona. We were the chaplins, the British guardsmen, the detectives. Her laugh was the brightest thing in the world. Taken by the dumb stupid hat.\n\nThe sirens blaring in my ears that’s the loudest thing I didn’t hear. My focus was on her, her lifeless body being lifted away. The tire skids on her arms, the deep gashes, my wife in a stretcher.\n\nWorst part is that I only thought that the world froze when I looked at her. This white suit tells me I’m stuck in my personal hell for 2 months. I start being in denial, I start thinking this is an opportunity I could fix her wounds myself, stop the damage, bring her back. I start reading every book on the human body in the nearby library, because it’d be too hard if me touching my phone made the cell towers work too. I had two months to make it right. I started doing stitches on the small wounds, applying bandages, but I’m kidding myself I can’t do anything on the inside. Week 1 wasted.\n\nThe rest of month 1 was sitting next to her talking to her like she was still there. I told her about my day, how making food was hard since you’d have to touch the boiling hot water to get the pasta to soften, how I switched every license plate in the next 5 blocks, boy won’t they be upset ;), how I made the mistake of trying to skate, oh the skates moved but the wheels. Trying to imagine the dumb nickname she would think for me trying to skate. Oh the laughs I had until I didn’t.\n\nI don’t remember when but it just felt too heavy to keep looking at her, talking near her. So the rest of the month I drank away my sorrows. I start writing a eulogy for her. Every sweet and beautiful thing she ever did that I remember. Every night I pass out drunk. I wrote 5 stolen notebooks of things I miss about her.\n\nWhite suit comes back, looks over at the note books. and says “I think we’re gonna reset the day if that’s cool with you.” And the next thing I know, there she is lying next to me that morning.\n\n>!Edit: Thank you for nice words guys :) and the cool awards!!<", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
4,670	10,397	0.006539	1,671	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " An eldritch horror considers you their best friend. By virtue of you being able to perceive their true form and not going insane. One day they ask how you became so jaded, that not even indescribable cosmic horror phases you.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "There was a monster on the front step.\n\nRachel blinked, but it remained, hunched over on the porch, still there in all it’s disturbing glory. It had one eye - no, it had many eyes, all blinking and shifting and looking here and there, but not visible all at the same time. They were laced above a mouth that stretched out in a fierce grin at the same time it drooped in a heavy frown, all perched on a round, clay-like head with cauliflower ears. (Not the ailment, mind, but actual cauliflower, growing from the sides of the skull and flowering quite nicely.) The body below was thin and fat at the same time, undulating between weight like waves licking the shore. Fingers made of bone clicked together anxiously, with far more phalanges than were necessary. From the waist down the body fell into darkness, robed in something that was blacker than black, aside from a pair of human-looking bare feet sticking out. Its toenails were painted bright pink, and seemed to be conversing among themselves.\n\n“It’s not Halloween yet,” she said, gripping the door tightly. \n\nThe creature said nothing, just staring at her.\n\n“That’s a really impressive costume, but you’re...five days early, I think. It’s only Tuesday, so…”\n\n“You’re not dead.” The voice that came from the monster was soft and confused. There was no scratch or echo or blood-curdling edge, just a voice that could belong to any adult human, wavering with shock and disbelief.\n\nRachel glanced behind herself, just to make sure. Nope, no dead body on the floor of the kitchen, where she’d been working when the being had knocked. “No,” she agreed, “I think I’m very much alive.” \n\n“But...but how…?”\n\nShe turned back to the horror and scratched absently at her cheek, trying to decide which eye to gaze into. They kept appearing and disappearing, so she settled on gazing into the middle of the creature's round head. “I...don’t know? I mean, am I supposed to be?” \n\n“All who gaze upon my visage fall, as is the way!” The creature gesticulated wildly, flailing its arms, too-long fingers clicking together. “Yet you do not shudder, you do not flinch! How can you withstand the horror that is I, Formidulosus, and not melt into a puddle of your own entrails!?” Flecks of foam gathered along the edge of its dual-mouths, and Rachel took a step back to avoid being spit on. “By Cthulhu, it’s unheard of!” \n\n“Oh, you like Lovecraft?” She latched onto the only thing she’d understood in the odd rant. “I find him a bit hard to read sometimes, but I just got the Call of Cthulhu game on my laptop and I’m looking forward to playing it on Saturday…” She trailed off as the creature tilted its head and stared at her in something akin to astonishment.\n\n“You know of the old ones?” \n\n“...Yes?” Rachel took a step forward (now that there was no other-worldly face foam flying about) and gave the creature a good look. Its shoulders were trembling, and it had begun clicking its fingers together. The bright-pink toenails had fallen silent. Had the thing been human, she would have said it looked almost...anxious? A bit lost, perhaps? “Would you like a cup of tea?”\n\nThe creature tilted its head, considering, then nodded. Rachel motioned for it to follow her into the kitchen and led the way. She could hear it behind here, each footfall echoed by the soft schwip-schwip of the too-black robe dragging across the hardwood. The electric kettle was already full of water, so she plugged it in and turned to watch the oddity as it carefully entered her kitchen and looked about, as though waiting for the china to attack it. \n\n“Please, have a seat, Mr, uh, Formidable,” she motioned to the kitchen table, then flushed as she realized her work was covering nearly every inch. \n\n“Formidulosus,” it corrected, watching with curiosity as she stacked papers and shoved them to the side, clearing a space for two to sit. “What is this parchment about? Are you a scholar?” \n\n“Oh no,” Rachel turned to the counter as the kettle began to hiss and spit. She pulled down two mugs and, after a moment's deliberation, decided on chamomile for both of them. The creature sat awkwardly in one of the chairs and watched as she bustled about, grabbing a teddy-bear shaped container of honey from the cabinet and juggling it alongside the two mugs over to the table. Its many, many eyes drifted to the stacks of paper, and it could see lines filled with different types of handwriting, and scrolls of paper printed with blue lines that were ragged on the edge and cramped with ugly letters. \n\n“Not a scholar?” It prompted as it took the mug. \n\n“Nah,” Rachel fell into her own seat, focusing once more on the center of its face. “I’m a teacher.” \n\n“That is a noble position! Perhaps protected by the new gods. That could be why you did not flail and melt into a puddle of -.” \n\n“-my own entrails. Yeah, let’s not think about that part.” Rachel took a sip. “Dunno about these new gods, but I can tell you,” she rested a hand on top of the nearest stack of homework to be graded, “teaching middle school, you see some weird shit.” \n\n\n\nAs Formidulosus left that night, stomach full of tea and arms full of what its new friend Rachel called ‘the best of Lovecraft, seriously, let me know what you think of The Temple!’, it pondered if there were others of these ‘Middle School Teachers’ in the world to befriend.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
2,548	10,387	0.039105	852	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " After WW3 and a century of rebuilding, the world has been at peace for 300 years. We've let go of our violent and aggressive tendencies and abolished war. You are the leader of an alien invasion that sees the Earth as an easy target; but soon you learn we can revert to our warlike past easily.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Leadership is accepting failure, then telling your men that they're going to pick themselves up off the floor and try again. I've led battles, fighting on the frontlines myself, for nearly two thousand sun-cycles--by Earth standards--at this point. Failures were few and far inbetween, but when they came, it was not a solar storm that destroyed all in its path; failure is an asteroid belt that can be dodged through by a skillful pilot.\n\nWe are conquerors. The universe has slowly felt the creeping hand of our oppression across the millennia, tendrils of dread that latch onto hope and crush it. Peaceful worlds fell first, and we smashed them despite a lack of resistance. Centauri, Nebrut; scholarly societies with weak beings of book and glass. No one will be allowed the room to question our might or ponder alternatives. \n\nAnd so it came down to the last peaceful society on our mappings: a comfortable planet of blue and brown, with a wispy white atmosphere. It had, at one point, shown signs of extreme turmoil, but reports show the life is grounded and likely had beat itself into impotence. Children with weapons, the Imperial scholars told me. \n\nOn that point, I can partially agree. The human race is a species of children that die out after a century, sometimes before. They have no time to develop any true intelligence or experience like those of ours.\n\nBut children wail. They cower, and whimper, and run from greater threats. Children cannot assemble themselves into a collective entity by retaining and expanding a combined knowledge that feigns the experience of age.\n\nChildren do not break my people. \n\nThey are something else, an intense, short-lived fury that releases unimaginable power in tight bursts, a reaction like nuclear fission. Scholars that put their learning and books toward the centralized intelligence of their beings and test the limits of destruction. They nearly annihilated themselves, and what was birthed from the aftermath is a hidden wrath no planet in the Solar Empire has known.\n\nI fear we may not have known true failure, previously, for utter defeat leaves a leader unable to recover. You can't reform when there's nothing left. We can only take solace in the fact that they cannot chase us. If ever they take to the heavens, in search of vengeance... we may become the children, whimpering and cowering.\n\nI never stopped to think that even a monster may look peaceful, in slumber.\n\n/r/resonatingfury", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,591	10,377	0.023896	2,726	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You woke up in a bathtub full of ice with fresh stitches on your back and abdomen. The emergency room reveals that several organs are missing, replaced with something unknown. They want to cut you open, but you're feeling awesome, stronger and healthier than you've ever felt in your life.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Alex woke up in a place he couldn't remember, without a name, place or identity.\n\nOn the first iteration, if you could call it that, he awoke alone in an apartment he assumed to be his own. His head had felt like a herd of buffalo had thundered across his forehead, but beyond that, he felt fine. Even the throbbing pain in his skull began to subside like a tide, becoming less and less important as his consciousness returned. \n\nBeyond this ebb, his body didn't seem damaged in any way. He flexed his fingers, breathing deeply through his nose. Slow in, slow out. \n\nBeyond the amnesia, beyond the strange surroundings, beyond the fact he couldn't even remember his name, he felt fine. In fact, he felt fantastic.\n\nHe checked his own wallet, as it probably wasn't normal to wake up without knowing your name, and more importantly how or why you woke up where you did, and couldn't find a license. There was a university student identification that only had a first name, Alex, on it, so he supposed that must be his name.\n\nOr he could be wrong.\n\nHe stood up, half naked, looking at the long and intricate stitching into his side. It was a strange tapestry, starting near his right shoulder and meandering down to his hip. It circled around, and with one hand felt it on his back. As if someone had taken a giant chunk of his body, casually flayed it open, and then sealed it up.\n\nSo naturally, he made his way to a local hospital. No name, no insurance, no real form of identification. But showing the giant and recent crochet job someone performed on his flesh was enough to get a few doctors to check him out and admit him. Worst case scenario, he's some kind of ghost. Best case, the staff can figure out some kind of way to identify him. Maybe help him. Whoever he is.\n\nThere were scans, tubes poked and prodded into various body parts, but beyond these initial disturbances, Alex couldn't particularly find anything wrong with himself. His arms felt fine, he could take deep breaths, and beyond a randomly pulsating throbbing sensation in his forehead, everything seemed fine.\n\nIt was the looks on the medical staff's faces that seemed to ring invisible warning bells. Their faces seemed not exactly concerned for him, but almost as if they were afraid. When they looked at the chart, they pursed their lips, looked away, and refused to explain what was wrong with Alex. But he knew. Somehow, he knew. When it came to bad news, staff would either downplay the news, or a doctor would hit you with a massive wall of jargon and specific terminology that the average layman couldn't understand.\n\nSo Alex sat there, shirtless, and began to poke and prod his side.\n\nAnd for a single moment, felt something...off. Something hard.\n\nSomething metallic.\n\nWhat the fuck was that?\n\nThe door to the observation room swung open, and a pair of burly men entered, one in a plain black suit, and another in standard nurse's garb.\n\nHe's not a nurse, a thought flashed across Alex's mind.\n\nNot a nurse. Something's wrong.\n\nIn his minds eye, Alex is running through another hallway, white and sterile on either side, sprinting for freedom, away from the pounding of feet behind him, telling him to stop. Not telling, no, ordering, commanding, threatening him to stop and submit. His side a carnival of pain, his lungs almost bursting in his chest, but his feet pounded down. He had to get out. To escape, before they brought him back.\n\nAs soon as the vision appears, it vanishes. Was it a dream? Alex couldn't recall.\n\nWhere was that voice coming from? Why couldn't he remember?\n\n\"One last test,\" the nurse said, and before Alex could realize what was happening, he felt the flashing cold of bare metal on his own flesh.\n\nHe was handcuffed. Before he could even protest, his other wrist found itself shackled to the opposite side.\n\nThe man in the suit said nothing. Was nothing. Could not contribute anything. Alex knew he was the kind of man who looked at his orders, and nonchalantly carried them out. Regardless of time, place, or morality.\n\n\"What's going on?\" There was fear now in Alex's chest, there was something growing in that uncertainty. \n\n\"You know what's going on,\" the man in the suit said. He held up what must be an x-ray of some kind, and to Alex's sudden and growing horror, saw some kind of geared mechanism intertwined with bone and musculature. There were no intestines, a single lung, and a liver, but it looked like someone had taken a shovel and scooped out half his guts to replace with gear and metal.\n\n\"There's something seriously wrong with you,\" the man in the suit says as if speaking to a child. \"We need to help you, and help you now.\"\n\nThere's concern in the man's voice, but to Alex it feels feigned. Alien.\n\n\"Help me how?\" he asks. What else can he ask?\n\n\"You're missing a ton of organs, kid, we need to get you in the operating room ten fucking minutes ago.\"\n\nAlex's mind gave another sudden pang. There was something there, hidden beneath some kind of invisible blizzard of forced what? Information? Was something blocking his memory? That seemed so inconsequential, so unnecessary. What was abhorrent was the metal within him. While he wasn't on a first name basis with his own organs, he preferred them there.\n\nI still have a liver, he thinks to himself insanely. At least I can drink.\n\nCan he? He didn't see a stomach.\n\n\"Administer the sedative,\" the man in the suit says to the nurse, already preparing a syringe.\n\n\"No,\" Alex says. It's a croak, rather than speech. His throat has gone dry as sand paper. \n\nHe pulls with his left arm against the restraint, fighting, and an increasing sense of terror gripped him. \n\nThey want to take me away, he thinks. They want to take me back! There was some instinct, some hidden and intense hatred of needles. He'd stomached it for now, just assuming it was something normal to deal with, but now, in this man's hands, he couldn't stop himself, no there was no way he could stand still. There was something familiar in them. Something familiar and utterly horrifying in their presence. \n\nHow did they find me?\n\nHe would ask who they were, but that no longer mattered. There was a deeper part of him that already knew they were a people with no name or face, an invisible group. Omnipresent and omniscient, and Alex could hear a voice, distinctly not his own, hammer across his skull.\n\n\"Test four a partial success,\" it intoned. A dispassionate monotone. \"Subject eight prepared for test five.\"\n\nWhen Alex jerked his right arm, the handcuffs snapped with an innocent clink, and before Alex understood what he was doing, he'd freed his other arm and leapt onto the nurse, bringing him down in a single movement and cracking his skull with a right arm with a strength he cannot comprehend. It simply crunched like a giant egg. \n\nAlex's body moved on its own, as if some kind of invisible training had kicked in, something he couldn't know or possibly remember.\n\nThe man in the suit reached for something, most likely a pistol, but Alex brought the right arm out again, a metallic and powerful hook cracking into the man's jaw.\n\nThe shock reverberates up his arm, so strong and fast as to cause his teeth to click together from effort.\n\nThe man's jaw is made of metal.\n\nLike me, Alex thinks to himself. Metal men. Toy soldiers. Was he one of them?\n\nThe man in the suit staggers backwards, his eyes unfocused, shifting and shimmering as the pupils changed color.\n\nBefore he thinks, he swings again.\n\nOnce. Twice. Three times. A fourth, final crash, and instead of blood and brain and bone, a tangled mass of metal and gears along with a thick, black oil oozes in a terminal flood across the floor. The overpowering scent of burning rubber and frying electronics, so strong as to cause Alex's eyes to water.\n\nThere's jostling outside the room now, and the fear returns, a sledgehammer to the gut. His hands were sweating, coated with that viscous fluid. Sweat began to bead on his neck and forehead.\n\nI need to get out. I need to get out of here. They found me, he thinks, though the thoughts are half formed and frantic.\n\nAlex threw his shirt back on, looking at the pair of dead men on the floor with both confusion and pity.\n\nThat voice again, making his skin crawl, causing a shiver to run down his spine. If you could call it a spine.\n\n\"Subject eight has completed test five, and is ready to begin augmentation procedures. Schedule him for first thing in the morning.\"\n\nHe throws the door open, and finds the hallway deserted. No medical staff anywhere. No other patients. A ghost town, a place that had been crowded only thirty minutes before.\n\nMore men in suits in the halls, eyeing him coolly, as if expecting an escape attempt. As if waiting for an opportunity to use force. To hurt him. To take him.\n\nAlex saw, with his heart hammering within his chest, that each man was as identical as the other. More metal men. More fake men. Coming for him, and Alex could see their grasping, implacable iron fingers grasping and pulling. That came with certainty, and he could feel now the strange clanking and clacking of the metal within his own body grinding itself together.\n\nAnd he ran.\n\nHe ran for his life.\n\n----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nI wrote a [Part 2!](https://www.reddit.com/r/redditserials/comments/h7pgp8/subject_eight_chapter_2/)", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
5,729	10,365	0.150108	1,221	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " \"Captain... the human didn't put on it's anti-warp gear before we jumped.\" \"Sad to hear, prepare the coffin and jettison it.\" \"No, sir. The human... nothing's happened to it. It didn't go insane from seeing infinity in the stars.\"", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Humans. Always humans.\n\nIn truth there was nothing much remarkable about them. Like any other species they had strengths and weaknesses imparted by their unique physiology.\n\nAnd yet...\n\nSomehow it was always humans who ended up in impossible situations. \n\nThe first ones to successfully negotiate with a Kabra-Alhar? Humans. The first ones to succesfully synthesize Econtahir? Humans. The first explorer to escape a Titan-Worm burrow? A Human.\n\nIt was known that Humans in general had more...unstable psyches than most other races. Prone to unpredictable behaviour and surprising insights, oddly charismatic and terrifyingly violent at times.\n\nIt was hard to \"get\" Humans. \n\nHe had hesitated for a long time to accept a human crewmember for these reasons but had caved under the mounting reports from other captains: as diffcult as they could be, in unusual, extreme situations you could have no one more useful, somehow, even if they were gibbering cowards or helpless pacifist.\n\nSomehow humans pulled through.\n\nAnd now this.\n\n\"The Human, sir\" his nervous aide announced.\n\nThe Human entered the cabin.\n\nThey had variety to themselves, but to the Captain they still all looked he same. That would change if he spent more time with them but for now it held true.\n\nAfter a few moments of silent exchanges of looks between two eyes and six the Captain took the word.\n\n\"What were you thinking?\"\n\n\"I was curious\" the Human,'s voice was quite but intent, its eyes...its eyes were focused. Almost shining.\n\nThe Captain was confused about his own associations. Since when was alien bodylanguage so clear to him?\n\n\"Curious? That is your excuse for risking life and sanity?\"\n\n\"What better reason could there be?\"\n\nThe words made perfect sense to the Ca...no. They didn't. What was this?\n\n\"What did you see?\"\n\nThe Human smiled. \n\nA gesture they were not supposed to do in front of aliens, showing teeth was aggressive in many species.\n\n\"You know as well as I do, Captain, that seeing is a laughably limited metaphor for what I experienced\"\n\n\"Describe it then\"\n\n\"Truth\" the answer came without hesitation.\n\nThe Captain felt a cold sliver of fear. A shiver went down...no. A shiver? His species didn't do that. Did they?\n\nThe Humans eyes were still on him. He found he couldn't look away.\n\n\"Truth...what truth?\"\n\n\"Everything. No barriers. No lies. Reality as it is. The gaping maw of the abyss and the towering peak of matter itself above it\"\n\nIts eyes...its eyes were so clear. So present. Where was its face? There were only the eyes.\n\n\"Would you like to know a secret Captain? It watched back. It sees us. They say the universe doesn't care. They are wrong. Everything is watched carefully\"\n\nIts eyes...how many did it have again? The Captain counted five...no seven...no nine...\n\n\"We Humans...I think we are more open to the universe than others. More accepting. The universe doesn't make sense and unlike many other species...we can work with that.\"\n\nMore eyes were opening. Each one a tiny pinprick in the distant void, burning with infinte focus. On him.\n\n\"And when I came back from gazing into infinity...a tiny piece of infinity came back with me\"\n\nThe Captain heard a shrill, terrified whimper and realised it came from him. The eyes! They were dissecting him! Each thought, each memory, all seen and weighted and taken and no longer his own!\n\n\"Captain. You will now delete each reference to this incident from the logs. And then you will help me give others this gift. Infinity has finally found it's way to us. And you will help me help it find it's way to many more\"\n\nThere was only obedience in front of the eyes.\n\n\"Yes. I will\"", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
2,730	10,365	0.005794	1,281	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You dress up as a conspiracy nutter for a costume party. The second you put the tinfoil hat on, something obstructive is lifted from your mind as if you suddenly woke up from a long sleep. Of course, nobody believes you...", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"The tin foil hat is going to be a bit much. I say skip it,\" my wife said, examining my costume in the mirror while she worked on applying make-up.\n\nI studied the image in myself in the glass. A long haired wig of greasy looking hair, a tee shirt that read \"The Truth Is Out There,\" and a half gallon milk jug with a disturbing amount of \"urine\" in it. One of the pockets of my cargo pants bulged from the size of my folded up manifesto. \n\n\"No,\" I said, \"it needs the hat. Otherwise I just look like an over the hill Fox Mulder.\"\n\n\"I thought that's what you're going for,\" Sarah said with a smirk.\n\n\"No! I'm a crazy conspiracy theorist. Not someone who has found the truth.\"\n\n\"Oh, okay then.\" She worked on adding a dribble of blood from the mouth of her vampire. \"My mistake. Still, I think you're good. Just tell people not to drink chocolate milk because it contains truth serum, and you'll be fine.\"\n\n\"Nice one. I'm adding that to the list,\" I said, heading for the kitchen. I pulled my manifesto out of my pocket and jotted down \"Chocolate milk = truth serum\" with the pen we kept by the refrigerator. Then, I opened a drawer and grabbed the aluminum foil.\n\nI took the roll and wrapped the thin metal sheet around me head a four or five times, then pulled the excess into a point at the top of my head. Running my hands over my work, I inspected it to make sure I had adequate coverage. Not quite enough, I decided. It was too likely to slip off. So I wrapped more layers around, until I'd probably wasted about half the roll.\n\nThen I started hearing a strange clicking sound. Like the sound of a dying computer hard drive. I started to go toward my office to see if something was wrong in my computer, but suddenly felt light headed. I grabbed the counter for balance as a new sound, like electrical interference on from a cell phone, seemed to come from inside my head.\n\n\"Honey!\" I shouted. \"Help!\"\n\nNew thoughts started to bubbled to the surface of my brain. Not just new thoughts. Memories. Old memories that had been hidden away. Crying. Long, red hair. A smile.\n\n\"What's the matter- oh my God, Jim your nose is bleeding!\" Sarah said. She rushed to grab a towel, then hurried toward me to put it to my face.\n\nI pushed her back. \"No. Just trust me. I'm fine.\"\n\nI took the roll of aluminum and started to unroll some. \"Trust me,\" I repeated, as I moved toward her. I tried to wrap her head like mine, but she ducked out of the way.\n\n\"What are you doing? We need to get you to a hospital! You're losing a lot of blood.\"\n\n\"No,\" I said, tears welling up in my eyes. More memories kept flooding back. \"I remember.\"\n\nI lunged again with the aluminum foil, trapping my wife against the counter. She tried to push me back, but I was too determined. I started wrapping her head furiously with the foil.\n\n\"No! What are you doing?\" she shouted at me. Her hands clawed at my work, but I would not be deterred. \n\nAfter a couple more layers had been applied, her eyes went wide and blood started trickling out of her nose.\n\n\"You see now?\" I said.\n\n\"Yes,\" she answered.\n\n\"We have a daughter. And they took her from us.\"\n\n\"I know,\" she said softly. \"But we chose to forget. That was part of the deal. And now you've put us all in danger.\"\n\nThe front door slammed open.\n\n*****\n\nIf you enjoyed this, subscribe to [Pubby's Creative Workshop](https://www.reddit.com/r/Pubby88) to read the rest of my prompt responses. \n\nEDIT: Thanks to popular demand, you can now find a [Part II](https://www.reddit.com/r/Pubby88/comments/64joma/you_dress_up_as_a_conspiracy_nutter_for_a_costume/dg33oee/?st=j1chz60c&sh=a3657886) over there as well.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,294	10,365	0.003073	1,099	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " While jogging through the park, you find a small token on the ground with 'F12' etched on the front. When you give it a small squeeze, words and numbers appear in your view. You have found the developer token for this reality, allowing you to view the source code and statistics of everything.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "I feel a bit guilty about this, but my first thought when I squeezed the F12 token and saw the developer tools for the universe appear in front of me was if there was an Alt and an F4 laying around somewhere so that I could end this whole miserable existence. Alas, that didn't seem to be the case and I had read-only permissions for the source code and statistics of... Well, to be honest, of everything. So I did what any anti-social loner like myself would do and I bunkered down in my apartment, opened my front blinds for the first time in weeks and I began to observe my neighbors and delve into the most obscure minutiae of their lives.\n\nIt's really less creepy than it sounds, trust me. It's not like I'm some peeping Tom looking in the blinds while the girl next door showers - at least not regularly. It was nothing physical like that. I was just looking into her dating history, her interests and hobbies, what her plans for the future were and her overall compatibility as a partner if I were to shape up and fix my life. \n\nAnd fixing my life became a whole lot easier. I suddenly knew what my boss was looking for. I realized that my female peers were not getting promoted because they were willing to get down on their knees but because they were significantly more capable and friendly than me. Apparently, not reeking of BO and not coming to work dressed in sweatpants helps too. Oh, and doing actual work was not frowned upon. Soon enough, I felt like maybe I was getting the hang of things. \n\nAnd once I felt like I maybe fit a loose definition of a rather put-together human, I casually bumped into her as she was coming back from yoga, and then I was asking her out to that hipster coffee shop across the street that she happened to love. What a coincidence, right?\n\nWhen you know every last detail about a person, it's a whole lot easier to charm them, I have to admit. It's also a whole lot easier to get along with them and to avoid needless arguments and to stretch the relationship longer than any I had ever had before. You see, it's a lot easier to suppress my paranoia when I can easily check to see how many times she has cheated and, if the number is still at 0, then there was no issue. And I could see how many texts she had sent and a breakdown of who she sent them to. I could see what she wanted for her birthday before she even knew what she wanted for her birthday. It took away a lot of the mystery, but that's not a problem. I like being in control. \n\nI think I got cocky. I can't see any other explanation. I thought I knew how things worked, but humans are fickle beings. I should have kept checking to see how she would react to me saying certain things. When I showed her what happened when I squeezed that little F12 token, I saw that she wasn't looking at the developer tools. She wasn't looking at the source code and the statistics that peppered the holographic display in front of us. She was looking past it, towards the past, thinking about all those little things I had ever done to make her smile and all the times I had ever surprised her, down to the very first time we met. I saw the tears in her eyes. There was no denying that I had spied and snooped into every last part of her life from long before we met in person. Our relationship was as organic as a Cheeto. She didn't need statistics or source code to figure that one out. \n\n*****\n\nThanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out more stories at /r/MatiWrites. Constructive criticism and advice are always appreciated!", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
2,124	10,362	0.056521	1,339	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "The pagan gods watch with amusement as humanity still remember them by naming their mightiest vessels after them, long after they stopped worshiping them. When war against aliens break out, the old gods subtly aid the humans, not wanting the last homage to them to be taken lightly.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Frontiersman Lucian Xan's blood flowed freely down his brow until it met his jawline. It pooled on the tip of his chin and then dripped downward, unnoticed and unimportant. \"How many are we looking at? I'm getting nothing but squid on the local.\"\n\nJack Studde snorted, \"More than it's worth countin'.\" He gave a hapless shrug, \"Only so many bullets to fire sometimes Luke. We've done what we could.\"\n\nXan's eyes watered as the smoke from the fire began to cloud the cockpit, causing the viewscreen to blur. The red blinking notification was clear enough. \"We didn't get a clear line. The message isn't getting out.\"\n\n\"They'll know well enough when the Hermes doesn't report in. Sometimes shooting the messenger is message enough.\" Jack yanked on the release to his harness, letting some of the pressure off of his chest. Just above his breast was a small winged sandal with the name Studde emblazoned above it. \"Wish we'd brought bigger guns. They say the new models got grav pulses.\"\n\nLucian sighed, \"Yeah, well, it was supposed to be quiet out this way. Squids are supposed to be a few hundred AU the other direction.\" He slammed the heel of his hand on the panel in front of him, willing the engine back to life. They were dead in the black, their ion drive knocked offline. The squids would have them tractored in soon enough.\n\nThey needed a bit of luck, that or the grace of God.\n\nXan pulled up the comms relay, funneling in the last bit of power in a vain hope of getting the message out. Thor was only a hop and a skip behind them, close enough to make it before the air ran out in their suits. The warship had been pulverizing everything in its path, its mass drivers inexplicably performing beyond specifications on multiple occasions. His fingers flew across the panel, the spiderweb of cracks ignored as he attempted to call out.\n\nThe last bit of power trickled down, the lights dimming in the ship. \"Auxiliaries almost gone,\" Jack called out.\n\nLucian ignored him, his attention focused on the little red blinking notification on relay readout. \"C'mon you god damned--\"\n\nA small flare appeared, the readout flickering for the briefest of moments to show a pair of winged sandals. The red notification blinked out and re-appeared, a cool minty green. \"Sonuvabitch...\" Xan yelled out. \"It's out!\"\n\nThe lights blinked out, shrouding the ship in darkness.\n\n\"What?\" Jack asked, the flexglass helmet stored in his collar unfurling and sheathing his head. A small 100% number appeared on his shoulder, indicating his oxygen supply.\n\n\"The relay, it got the message out. Thor should have it in a few minutes.\" Lucian frowned down at the local, \"Probably not enough time to save our asses, but at least home has a warning that they've got squids pounding down their back door.\"\n\n\\---\n\n\"Captain, we've got a priority inbound from the edge. Frontiership Hermes. Distress.\" The comms officer swore, \"We've got squids, Ma'am. Whole fleet of them. Hermes is disabled.\"\n\n\"Stow it and keep focused Lieutenant. Send a relay back earthward and let's get them some backup,\" Captain Lawless commanded, her steely grey eyes darting between the bridge crew.\n\n\"Captain, we don't know what we're up against, the message just said a fleet of squids.\" Comms Officer Lucas replied even as he prepared the relay message back home.\n\n\"Let me worry about that Lucas, just get us there.\" She sat in her command chair, her shoulders squared forward, the golden lightning bolt emblazoned on her chest twinkling in the light. \"This is the Thor, we've got the hammer.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n[PART 2 RIGHT HERE ON MY SUB. EVERYONE DIES. IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT FOR DEMANDING MORE.](https://www.reddit.com/r/PerilousPlatypus/comments/alzoo6/wppart_1_2_the_pagan_gods_watch_with_amusement_as/)\n\nPlatypus out.\n\nWant MOAR peril? r/PerilousPlatypus\n\n&#x200B;", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,580	10,355	0.008131	1,468	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " The horror story where the victims are genre-savvy, and avoid doing things that would clearly lead to their death. Problem is, that the killer is genre-savvy too, and does not play by the usual rules.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "I gripped Marie's shoulders. \"It's all going to be okay. Just stay calm!\"\n\n\"It's not okay! Nothing's okay! M-Mark's dead! Jessie! A-And Kass...!\" Her shaking would not stop. And it's not as if I couldn't have understood it. We'd just seen the dismembered bodies of our best friends scattered across the corridors of this hotel.\n\nI sighed. \"I know. But we're safe now, do you understand? We're locked in. We've barricaded the doors and windows. I've checked, and the air vent isn't big enough for him to get through. He can't get to us from below or above. We've got a gun. He doesn't. The police are on their way. We'll make it through this!\"\n\nThere was nothing I could do to reach her, however.\n\nWhy did things turn out like this? All we wanted was to have a good time before summer break was over.\n\nJessie... we were supposed to be in a study group together this year. She was finally getting out of her shell, too... And now? She was dead. Because of me. Because I'd invited her along. Because I wanted a cheap shot at making out with her.\n\nFuck!\n\n\"We won't die here.\" I told Marie. \"We won't die here.\"\n\nWhat was I saying, though? My fault? No. It was that masked fucker's fault. I call him that, but it's not like it was a secret who he was. That goddamn caretaker's son. I couldn't believe he'd actually tried to play dead. Like we'd fall for that after seeing actual corpses.\n\n\"N-Nathan...\" Marie hugged me. \"I-I... I don't...\"\n\n\"Marie?\"\n\nShe began to cough. Her shakes turned into convulsions.\n\n\"Marie!\"\n\nShe was gurgling blood.\n\n\"Marie?! Fuck! Marie?!\"\n\nMy phone rang. Thinking it was the police, I instinctively picked it up.\n\n\"The poison should be kicking in right about now.\" The voice on the other end said. \"Oh, come on. Think back. I'm the cook in this place. Did you really think I wouldn't have taken the chance when I had it?\" A fake chuckle. \"Props on seeing through me playing dead. But it won't help you now, will it?\"\n\n\"Fuck you!\" I screamed.\n\n\"Well, I will admit, I'm not in a good position myself. You being able to call the police was something I'd taken for granted. Murders in an old house on the hill? The kids never call the cops. I cut the lines, but forgot to steal your cell phones. Stupid mistake.\"\n\n\"They're going to track you down, and they're gonna kill ya, you hear?!\" I growled.\n\n\"By the time they show up, I'll just surrender. Life in prison probably isn't so bad. Especially since I got what I wanted out of this. But you shouldn't be worrying about me at the moment.\"\n\nMarie was on her knees, blood seeping from her mouth.\n\n\"I have the antidote. She can still be saved. All you need to do is remove the barricades from the window and let me in.\"\n\n\"Do you think I'm a fucking idiot?! You'll just kill us both!\"\n\n\"And if I told you I'll only kill you? That I'll respect your brave sacrifice?\"\n\n\"I'd say you're full of shit.\"\n\n\"You're right. I am.\" A deep sigh. \"Was worth a shot, though, wasn't it?\"\n\n\"Dammit! Marie...!\"\n\n\"Truth be told, there's nothing more you can do for her. If she's spitting out blood, the poison's spread through most of her body. She'll be dead in a matter of moments. If it's any consolation, you won't have to mourn her.\"\n\n\"What... do you mean?\"\n\n\"This phone call has just been a distraction. I've spent the last five minutes pumping gas into that room of yours. I'm thinking if you don't blow up on your own, I'll strike a match at some point.\"\n\nMy knees began to shake.\n\n\"Of course, this doesn't have to end that way. Just open the window, and hop out. You'll have to leave the girl behind, though. I can't see you getting far dragging her along.\"\n\nI knew he wasn't bluffing. But I wasn't stupid enough to actually try and go out through the window. Instead, I began pushing furniture away from the door.\n\nMarie looked at me. Still gurgling. Tears running down her cheeks. She was trying to tell me something. Reaching out to me. Begging me not to leave her behind? Maybe.\n\n\"I'm sorry, Marie. But I have to save myself.\"\n\nI pulled the door open.\n\nAnd there he was.\n\nThe masked killer.\n\n\"Looks like I'm not the only one that made a leap in logic tonight, eh?\"", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,590	10,349	0.00164	1,059	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You are always early. Early for meetings and parties. Early to sleep and wake. Recently though, you have been early in new ways. You celebrate goals 10 seconds early, answer questions before they're asked and even react to news before it's broken.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "There's a certain flow to the world. The way things lead from one thing to another. How it all seems to be connected. The patterns are there, pulsing and beating in the background, moving around and through us.\n\nCan't you feel it?\n\nI suppose not. People always seem so surprised when the thing that is supposed to happen does happen. I never saw the point in waiting, if something is to occur, why not have it occur earlier? If our lives are just a collection of thoughts, feelings and experiences, why wait?\n\nI gather that's strange though. That others feel differently about it. I cannot imagine why, it seems perfectly natural to move the pattern forward, to experience it now rather than later.\n\nAs I've grown, I've put more effort into understanding it. Feeling the pattern comes naturally, pulling it forward takes effort. It's a bit like a muscle, your flex is a product of the work you've put into it.\n\nAt first it was only by a second or two. Enough to be the first one who clapped but not enough that those around me thought anything about it. I'm further along now.\n\nTen seconds for things within a system. A goal played within a sport. A twist in a soap opera. Simple things like that.\n\nRandomness is hard. The pattern is more chaotic when it comes to chance, harder to read, to understand. I think the pattern makers like chance best, as if it is their opportunity to drop the shackles of the ticking beat and color outside the lines. Perhaps that is why it interests me so. The challenge of reading the improvisation of the universe fascinates.\n\nOnly five seconds for chance.\n\nI wonder what the limit is. Is there one? Could I pull the pattern forward enough to see tomorrow? It feels possible, just difficult. The beat becomes harder to anticipate, the chaos of chance interrupting and forking it this way and that.\n\nMaybe it is best to not know. As I've grown to understand the pattern I've found my actions disrupt it. The beat continues, but it is pushed off the mark by my reaction. I cheer before everyone else when the goal scores, and the others stare rather than cheer. A beat it missed. The pattern shifts.\n\nThey do not like shifts. I cannot explain it beyond saying that my own pattern has changed. It is darker now. The beat is...faster. Irregular. Like an ailing heart pumping adrenaline.\n\nI try to be respectful, but it is hard to unsee something. I perceive the pattern and I react. I have built the muscles and I cannot allow them to fall into languor. I try not to clap for the goal before it has happened, but my pulse still quickens. I cannot be unknowing, no matter how much the pattern makers may desire it. I cannot help it and they cannot prevent it.\n\nWell. There are ways to stop it.\n\nThey will come for me. It is still far off, but the event is certain enough that there can be no questions. There is no chance to it. No forks that lead me away from it. The patterns are theirs and they do not like one such as me meddling in it.\n\nI suspect they will come sideways. Straight on is something I will see. I must expect the unexpected. I must expand to see chance. To predict their improvisation.\n\nThey know I prepare.\n\nFive seconds will not be enough.\n\nPlatypus OUT.\n\nWant MOAR peril? r/PerilousPlatypus", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
613	10,348	0.076529	1,624	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You filmed your girlfriend playing the “What The Fluff” Challenge on your Beagle. The sheet dropped, she was gone, and you got great footage of your dog’s response. That was three days ago. She hasn’t reappeared and the police are asking questions. Now, you and your dog have a mystery to solve.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"Okay, Buddy, we have a problem,\" James said, sitting in front of Buddy who's lying down, head tilted a bit to a side and his tail swinging left and right like crazy.\n\n\"Woof, woof, woof,\" the dog responded, moving himself left and right while lying down.\n\n\"I know, I know,\" James said, nodding. \"We should replicate what happened, except this time we're both being at her side.\n\n\"Woof,\" the dog barked, quickly running where Sarah was last time standing.\n\n\"Smart dog.\" James took the very same blanket, raised it and sighed. \"Prepare to run, Buddy.\"\n\nAs he let go, they both started to dash away, but as he'd barely turned around, the room had changed, considerably. Most of the wooden house was rotten, and things were almost like thrown around.\n\n\"Woof, woof!\" a barking came next to James, making him look down.\n\n\"Thank God, Buddy. I'm happy that you're with me,\" James said, smirking, trying to hide how terrified he really was. But as he took a few steps ahead and felt how the wood wanted to collapse below him, his smile disappeared. It was that moment when he noticed multiple holes around him and blood droplets going towards the house's exit.\n\nJames gently walked towards the house's entry, taking careful care of his every step. Apparently, Buddy was so lightweight that the rotten wood didn't react to him at all.\n\nThe door was luckily already opened, making leaving the house easy, but what followed was a gasp. The whole street looked abandoned, every building rotten, and plant-life was growing on top of them.\n\n\"What... the... fuck...\"\n\n\"Woof, woof, woof!\" Buddy started to bark as he came back from the nearby street. He already had a trip around the neighborhood.\n\n\"What's the matter, buddy?\"\n\nBuddy kept barking, making James follow him. He followed him for a good five minutes until he saw a woman lying on the ground at the end of the tight alleyway. A lot of garbage was around her, mostly hiding her body.\n\n\"Buddy, how did you... That's amazing,\" James whispered, as the smell was pretty horrible. The dog just barked, ran to the woman and started to remove some of the garbage with his paws.\n\n\"Sarah!\" James shouted as he ran towards her and started to remove some of the trash as well.\n\n\"James,\" a whisper came from Sarah.\n\n\"Are you okay? What happened?\"\n\n\"Be silent,\" Sarah said, shaking her head, and also looking like she hadn't eaten past three days she was missing. \"You'll alert them.\"\n\n\"Who?\" James asked, but quickly gaining the attention of Buddy who started barking intensely at the opposite way of the alleyway, where they just had come from.\n\n\"Shut up, Buddy,\" Sarah whispered, eyes widened, the whole body shaking and slowly picking up trash, putting them back on top of her to hide herself.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" James asked.\n\n\"Hiding myself, you idiot. Hide or run, you fool,\" Sarah frowned.\n\nJames started removing trash again and put his hands around Sarah to carry her like a princess. As he turned around, he saw a shadow at the end of the alleyway, looking towards them. Even Buddy shut his mouth. After a closer inspection, James realized that it wasn't a shadow. The being itself was like a shadow, dark, hardly visible, but like a materialized shadow, not literal. It had a form of a dog.\n\n\"Intruders,\" a cold whisper reached them, crisp, thick and cracking sound. He could hear long heavy breathing at the same time as he said the word, almost like trying to take in all the air around them.\n\n\"What the fuck is that?\" James murmured, eyes wide.\n\n\"I don't know, but I have seen him killing others,\" Sarah whispered. \"Run, James, run.\"\n\n\"Buddy... run,\" James repeated her order, turned around and did the same thing. He could hear how Buddy followed him right behind, not making even a sound anymore. But he could also feel that being following them as well. The air was cold and dark.\n\n\"Turn left here,\" Sarah ordered, and James followed. But behind that corner wasn't another street, but a lake, which looked like a hole, almost like a meteorite had landed there.\n\n\"Jump into the lake,\" Sarah said.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"It won't follow, that's our only option right now.\"\n\nJames frowned but kept running, and the moment he reached the shore, he made a long jump, splashing water everywhere. Buddy followed his example.\n\nAfter good ten seconds, they slowly surfaced and took extended breathers. James turned around and looked at the nearby shore, still terrified. The shadowy, faceless, creature just looked at them but didn't follow.\n\n\"You're in an awful state, let me help you,\" James said, helping Sarah to float on top of the watery surface, and started to swim backward, away from... that. He had many questions, but he focused only on keeping her floating and watching that being.\n\n\"Thank you,\" Sarah whispered, feeling the numbness of her limbs. It wasn't that she had any injuries, it was pure hunger.\n\nNew - possibly saving - shouts were heard in the city. The creature looked away and disappeared as fast as it had appeared.\n\n\"We managed to survive another day,\" Sarah said, sharing a weak smile. \"For now... we are safe.\"\n\n\"Woof.\"\n\n----\n\n----\n\n/r/ElvenWrites - My sub, if you want to follow and read my other stuff :P. I do have a few series there too ;).", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,030	10,338	0.05774	1,494	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "The reason why dragons kidnap princess so often is because, as far as their concerned, humans of royal blood are rare exotic pets. A status symbol, to show that their horde is greater than that of other dragons.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Hoarding was about as natural an act to dragon-kind as hissing or breathing fire, and Quetzel was aiming to be the best damn hoarder there could be. \n\nA ripe seven years old, with a polished, silvery-blue hide, four-inch ivory horns, and gleaming silver fangs and talons, Quetzel was perched atop the grassy slope of No-Man's land, a steep cliff overlooking a wide expanse of sea, and which had a perfect view of the grand castle that loomed on the other side of the water. He sat there for a few minutes, his barbed tail thrashing impatiently, his small, slitted eyes staring fixedly at the speck of gold that could be seen bobbing around on the palace balcony. \n\nThe princess. The thought registered with a kind of savage hunger. At the base of No-Man's land stood the caves in which the dragonic occupants of the land resided, and in Quetzel's cave stood mounds and mounds of silver, gold, and bronze, weapons and antiques taken from past raids across the land. But it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. \n\nThough the other dragons on the land were quite impressed with his collection, he was never satisfied — and he likely never would be, until he obtained the final piece of his collection. Her. \n\nHe had visited the kingdom a few times in the past few weeks, unfortunately chased away by the imps who guarded her, but not before he could lay eyes on her splendid form. She was beautiful, for a human, with a head of sleek, shining, golden hair. Her limbs were small but graceful, and her elegant dresses flowed around her fair skin as she frolicked and gamboled in her garden. \n\nHe would have her. Today. He simply had to wait. \n\nIt felt like hours that he lay there, his wings twitching to be unfurled so that they could glide along the dome of breeze sweeping the seas ... but he waited.... \n\nAnd then it came: the bell that signalled breakfast. The guards turned their back on the horizon and began to usher the princess towards the towering golden doors, and Quetzel seized his chance. His wings opened with a flourish and he dove straight down, soaring under the glittering surface of the water, catching a fish between his bared fangs occasionally. He had no trouble with breathing, for his kind could hold their breath for very lengthy periods, and he wouldn't be spending much time underwater either.... \n\nAnd sure enough, the walls of the coastline came into view moments later. He burst upwards, splashing up great pools of water, startling the guards and the princess, who had not yet made it to the doors. He was ready for them. \n\nBefore they could do more than let out vehement exclamations of surprise, he had spit enormous plumes of fire that burned them to ash on the spot, seized the princess, and soared away with her held tightly in his embrace, growling in satisfaction. \n\nHe arrived back at No-Man's land moments later, and deposited her on the grass. She stumbled but caught herself. Then she turned to look back at Quetzel, who was looming over her, bearing down upon her menacingly.... \n\n\"Well it's about time!\" the princess said furiously. \n\n\"What?\" Quetzel said, taken aback. He had learned some English from the faeries who danced around the caves at night. \n\n\"I've been waiting forever!\" The princess was glaring at him, not a trace of fear upon her beautiful face, but only impatience. \n\n\"What — what do you —\"\n\n\"Are you blind or something?\" she snapped. \"I've been signalling you to hurry up for ages!\"\n\n\"You — wanted me to take you?\" Quetzel asked, thunderstruck. \n\n\"Of course!\" The princess stamped her foot in frustration. \"I hate it over there! My parents don't even care about me, they just send me outside every day with the guards because they can't be bothered! But I knew you wanted me the first time you came to look. I heard dragons take princesses to show off to other members of their kind. Well, it was either leave with you or stay where I'm obviously not wanted. So I chose the former. And I warn you — I'm very high-maintenance. If I'm going to be your prize I have some demands,\" she said, fixing him with a beady eye. \n\n\"Of — of course,\" Quetzel responded, dumbstruck. \n\nThe princess glowered for a moment — then she smiled. A true, innocent smile. \"Well, let's go then. I'll tell you over breakfast. I was just about to eat when you showed up and killed my servants. Is that where you live?\" She was pointing down to the caves. Quetzel nodded, very flustered, and she set off down the trail. \n\n\"By the way,\" she called back, as Quetzel, still dumbfounded, started after her, \"I'm Dana. What's your name?\"\n\n\"Quetzel.\"\n\n\"Hmm...I actually kind of like that name.\"\n\nr/MysticScribbles", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,612	10,335	0.012603	1,692	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " A global arms race gets out of control and every country's only option for survival is walling themselves off with impenetrable defensive technology. Millions of years pass before a catastrophic event brings down all the walls, revealing how humans evolved in isolation.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"And you see what befell the heathens! Cast your eyes, and give thanks to our Lord Signature, for keeping us safe through the millennia!\"\n\nFyre didn't hate the priests as much as he despised the crowds listening to their rants. When the walls dropped last week, the holy men got more than they ever could have dreamed: a decimated civilization to the south that had turned to ash hundreds of thousands of years past. The propaganda wrote itself.\n\nEven if he wanted to stay and listen, Fyre had work to do. He revved the throttle and led his advance crew around the crowd, standing just a few hundred yards beyond the former Barrier. He supposed the scientists' conclusion made sense, that a single tectonic plate shift could take down the walls, those that had stood for five million generations. There was no other explanation. And when the fear had transposed into wariness, then eventually curiosity, he was selected to lead the first scouting mission into the southlands, to try and make sense of what happened here.\n\n\"What we even lookin' for, boss?\" Ava asked via communicator on the open channel. His number-two was the only one willing to speak so bluntly to the most decorated soldier in any of Seahaven's three military branches, but Fyre knew she represented the men, and as such tolerated her tone.\n\n\"First and foremost, signs of what happened,\" Fyre responded to the six-man crew as he adjusted his hyperbike's altitude to fifty feet. \"Historical records indicate that the southlands had a major city fifteen miles from the Barrier. At least, they did during the Construction. We're to start there and report what we find.\"\n\n\"What's say we see's southernors?\" He recognized the rookie's voice, half by the dirty coastal accent, and half by it's shaking.\n\nAva, now cruising high and to Fyre's right, spared her Captain from answering: \"You thinkin' we's about to see anything movin' but dust? Open them beady eyes, ya squid.\"\n\nThat earned a quiet round of laughter on the comms, and Fyre let them have their fun. Handpicked and trained by him, the forty-year-old commander knew they were the best Seahaven had to offer. When the time came, they would be professional as any stiff-necked garrison. No harm in letting them have some fun in the early moments of a scouting mission.\n\n\"Captain -- \" It was Ava again, her tone tense. \"I've got contact. Heat signatures. Few dozen, quarter mile at twelve o'clock, too cool for men but moving.\"\n\n\"Tighten up, climb to 300 feet.\"\n\nThe six hyperbikes snapped into a V-formation on their ascent. There was no laughter on the comms now, and the soldier slang was forgotten as they entered the unknown.\n\n\"Something's coming,\" said one of the scouts.\n\n\"Nothing on radar.\"\n\n\"Use your eyes, Ava, it's right -- evasive! Evasive now!\"\n\nThe well-trained garrison split instinctively, but it was too late. Fyre watched as a steel ball, perhaps a foot in diameter, flew with impossible speed straight through the rear end of Ava's bike. She began plummeting immediately.\n\n\"On the ground now!\" cried the Captain. \"Perimeter around Ava!\"\n\nThere was no panic amongst the crew. They'd fought together before, putting down Seahaven's many rebellions under constant threat of laser fire and gravity mortars. But none of them had ever seen something like that -- how could a flying stone wreck a hyperbike?\n\nThey were on the ground, then off their bikes with weapons drawn in seconds. Fyre took point as two others rushed to Ava's bike. Every step they took gave rise to a bout of ash, the indecipherable remains of living things crunching underfoot. Not even the sun managed to overcome the floating dust, in turn washing out whatever color did exist in this forsaken place.\n\n\"She's a'right. Maybe might turn her back to medics now though.\"\n\n\"Keep your meal hole sealed, I'ma comin'.\"\n\nBut Fyre wasn't paying attention. Flanked by two men, the Captain was moving forward cautiously. He'd just spotted something. Rather, someone, hiding half buried in the ash.\n\n\"This is Captain Fyre of House Conflag of Seahaven. We mean you no harm. We are explorers, that is all, but open fire upon us again and we will retaliate.\"\n\nThe buried figure seemed to realize his position was known. He stood up slowly, shaking, his expression terrified. As if in unison, dozens, hundreds more men and women, each armed with primitive weapons, emerged from the omnipresent dust and stood, surrounding the small crew.\n\n\"Tha fuck, boss...\"\n\n\"Quiet Ava. No one acts without my order.\"\n\nMost of these figures, scrawny and desperate looking, stood stock still with weapons at their sides. But one was striding forward through the thin crowd. His ratty red frock and comically large hat seemed to signal a high station, though he'd be thought a clown in Seahaven.\n\n\"Well, Captain Fyre of House Conflag, I don't have a fancy title or lineage, but this ragtag outfit belongs to me. I presume you're here thanks to the wall coming down?\n\nFyre stepped forward, \"Indeed. What is your name?\"\n\n\"Oh, I've long since forgotten it. But we have much to discuss, if you'll follow us to our humble abode amidst this waste,\" replied the man as he scooped up a handful of ash.\n\nThen, as he calmly put the dust in his mouth and swallowed, he added, \"Though I'm afraid we won't have much for you and your men to eat.\"\n\n\\--------------------\n\n151/365\n\none story per day for a year. read them all at [r/babyshoesalesman](https://www.reddit.com/r/babyshoesalesman)\n\n\\---------------------", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,360	10,320	0.016462	1,329	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "“Sorry for not responding, but I’m back.”", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"Alex, are --u still th--\"\n\nThe crackle of static stabs at the silence, the blade tip running down my back. My body tenses, fingers white as they press against the book's pages. But I'm perfectly hushed. Waiting to see if it comes again.\n\n\"-- sorry that ---- -- but --- --\"\n\nI throw the book to the floor and scramble out of my chair, almost slipping on the cold steel, racing towards the radio set, as if it might finally die after all these years, if I don't reach it instantly.\n\nThe voice the other end. Casey. Where's she been? How many years have I been waiting, praying to God that she wasn't dead. That they didn't find her and... \n\nMy finger finds the button instinctively. Muscle memory. I grasp the mic between both hands. \"Casey?! Is that you? Are you okay?\" My chest heaves like I've just done an hour on the bike. \n\nNothing. No reply.\n\n\"Casey?\" My voice is pleading. Desperate. The loneliness of being stuck in a rusting tin fifty feet beneath the fucking ground, alone for the better part of a decade, channels itself into a trebling of my arms, a rattling of the mic. \"Please. Please, please, please!\"\n\nNot even the buzz of static. Nothing is being transmitted.\n\nA breath escapes me, my shoulders hunch. \n\nCasey, all that time ago -- and just for just a few weeks -- had become my skylight to gaze out through this loneliness. A view of the stars and the sun and all the things I'd left behind when I'd sealed myself into this tiny room -- after the men in hazmat suits had hurried me down. A room stacked with cans of food, a bed, a manual exercise bike, but mostly, misery.\n\nI'd gotten sick at work. That had been my last day outside of here. Lots of people were getting sick that day. Vomiting. I was rushed into an ambulance before everything went dark.\n\nOnce I'd regained consciousness the hazmats had taken me away. To here.\n\nThey'd talked to me over the radio, at least for a while. A month or so. Updating me on what had happened, and how our battle with Mother Nature had been lost. Until... Until they were one by one hunted down, or changed. \n\nLeaving me here, alone. \n\nFor the longest time, I thought I was one of the unlucky ones. A survivor. Then, her voice had shattered the darkness.\n\nFor those few weeks with Casey, back when I had been at my very lowest ebb, we both lost ourselves in the companionship. In stories of times before we'd been locked in our cages. Before they'd tried to solve climate change with more fucking gasses, before everything below the clouds had gone to shit. \n\nWe talked of mundane stuff. Of families and Christmases, gardening and wines, of all the stuff we'd never have again.\n\nWe talked each other to sleep. And we talked when we woke. And although it wasn't much -- a voice -- in a life of nothing, just that small something was enough to make you want to cling onto living. It was a reason.\n\nThen, one morning, my reason was gone.\n\n\"Alex, -- shouldn't be spe--- but ------\"\n\n\"Casey! I can't hear you properly. You're cutting out.\" I twist and turn the nobs as the static turns into a whistle. Then, finally, it clears.\"\n\n\"--- was just an experiment, Alex. I should have told you. But they ---\"\n\n\"What? What was an experiment, Casey? The Cloud Killer?\"\n\n\"--- ----- was no Cloud Killer. You're the ---------\"\n\nI shake my head and grin stupidly. \"Casey, the Cloud Killer did this. To all of us.\"\n\n\"Listen, Alex. They made me call you, three years ago -- -- --- suicidal. You wouldn't have ---- much longer. They --- --- you to have a reason to go on.\"\n\nA cold sweat works its way up onto my forehead. A thin pool of wet. I swallow back her joke. \"Casey, that's not what happened.\"\n\n\"Listen! ---- parents are still alive. Everyone is. Alex, I nee--- to tell you, the guilt was consuming me, but... you still can't open the door. Shit, I've got to go, I ---- them. They're on their way. But you can't leave, or they will kill you. Both of us. I'm so ------ Alex.\"\n\nThe radio dies again. \n\nSilence.\n\n\n\n\n\n \n\n\n\n \n\n", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,704	10,318	0.006923	1,721	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " A group of men burst into your house dressed in what looks like Viking armour. In gruff voices, they inform you they are here to serve your dog who they believe is the reincarnation of Fenrir. Your dog is a four pound Chihuahua called Mr Wiggles.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "There was a polite knock at the front door.\n\nDrying my hands, I left the kitchen and slung the towel over my shoulder and opened the large inner front door and pushing the frenzied, barking Mr. Wiggles. On the other side of the screen door stood twenty or so people in strange armor. \n\nA tall man in chainmail, furs, and a rounded skullcap stepped forward. He spoke, but I did not understand a word he said.\n\nMr. Wiggles jumped into view, resuming his wild, frenzied barking.\n\nThey all immediately fell to one knee, crying out a single word in unison. \"Fenrir!\"\n\nI looked to them. Then to Mr. Wiggles, who was still barking. I looked back to them. \"I uh. I don't want any?\" I closed the door.\n\nThey cried out, rising and making a cacophony of sounds that all sounded like begging.\n\nI sighed and ignored them, heading back into the kitchen to continue washing the dishes. \n\n...\n\nAfter spying them through the windows, moping on the front porch through the afternoon, the next day I was pleased to see the weird people from the day before were no where to be seen. Or so I thought.\n\nI had let Mr. Wiggles out the back door to do his business in the yard when all of a sudden I hear a chorus of cheering. When I went to investigate, the group of strange armored people from yesterday was there all around the outside of the wooden fence, shouting over the tops of it as one of their number in leather armor with plates and studs afixed to it ran with incredible speed across the yard, away from Mr. Wiggles who was chasing him and nipping viciously at his heels.\n\n\"What the hell is going on here?\" I cried.\n\nThey all fell silent and looked to me before fleeing.\n\nExcept for the one being chased by Mr. Wiggles, who scaled a tree to try and escape from the aggressive Chihuahua.\n\n\"Good job, Mr. Wiggles!\" I huffed, approaching the tree. \n\nI stooped and picked up the small Chihuahua, who then turned and whined and licked my face lovingly. I cooed at him and kissed his face. \"Ooh, good boy! Good boy! Mummy loves you, good boy!\"\n\nThe man in the tree stared at me in terror.\n\nI looked to him with a scowl. \"I thought I told you we weren't interested! And why are you antagonizing my poor little Wiggy?\"\n\nMr. Wiggles turned and barked viciously at him.\n\nStudying the man, he looked quite spooked and I eventually sighed. \"It's just a little dog. For heaven's sake. You're a grown man.\"\n\nHe mumbled a few unrecognizable words. All I caught was 'Fenrir.'\n\n\"Well he won't attack you while I hold him,\" I gestured for him to come down. \"So get down before you fall and break your neck!\"\n\nHe stared hard at me before cautiously climbing down. He looked deeply embarrassed.\n\nGroaning, I couldn't help but feel a little bad for him. I decided to fix him a cup of tea to calm his nerves before sending him on his way. He didn't seem like a bad sort after all, and it was clear that Mr. Wiggles could chase him out if he misbehaved.\n\nI beckoned him with a finger. \"Well, let's calm you down a bit and soothe that bruised ego, hm? Come along, lad, I'll fix you a cup of tea.\"\n\nHe didn't seem to grasp all my words, but he brightened considerably when I motioned for him to follow.\n\nSome over the others peeked over the fence but I ignored them.\n\nWhen we got inside, I put Mr. Wiggles in the living room, which had kiddie gates in the doorways to keep him confined away from guests. He was very protective, after all.\n\n\"You sit right there,\" I pointed to a chair. He complied.\n\nMr. Wiggles circled round to the doorway between the kitchen and living room, barking at our guest like and thing. \n\nThe lad looked uncomfortable.\n\nWithin moments I set a cup of tea in front of him. The lad sniffed at it skeptically, then brightened and took a sip. He let slip a string of thought, again in words I didn't understand.\n\nIt was strange how he kept staring at Mr. Wiggles. Like he was completely crushed that he hadn't warmed up to him yet. Poor boy.\n\nI took a slice of pie and set it in front of him. \"Here you are lad. A bit of sweet to go with your tea.\"\n\nThe minute I set it in front of him he went wide eyes and devoured it like he had never eaten before.\n\nI laughed and turned back to the kitchen and began sweeping the floor. Not like we could talk anyhow.\n\nAt this the man jumped up in distress. After a few words, he trotted to me, reaching to take the broom.\n\nOut of sheer curiosity I passed it to him.\n\nHe began sweeping the floor for me.\n\nMr. Wiggles barked once more, then quieted down and sat on his bed, watching us from behind the gate.\n\nThe lad looked to the Chihuahua, then bowed deeply. After a few words, he began frantically sweeping as though his life depended on it.\n\nIt was then I noticed all the faces pressed to my window. They stared on in shock and awe, before scattering. \n\nWithin days they had all managed to work their way in for tea and pie, and they had cleaned my house to sparkling from top to bottom. Mr. Wiggles never let them touch him, but he barked at them constantly. What was strange was that it was never the same vicious barking he snapped at everyone else. This laughably seemed like barked orders.\n\nWhich would have been ridiculous. I laughed off the thought.\n\nThe people would eventually learn how to speak bits here and there. All I ever really learned from them was that they really wanted to take care of this aging old lady and her wee pup.\n\n\nEdit: Minor fixes.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
4,258	10,316	0.133855	782	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "\"Hey! It's me, God. I've noticed there's a lot of confusion, so I've created a website called 'Will I go to hell and why dot com'. Just write your name in the search bar. And don't forget to share, like and subscribe.\"", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "..and why dot com\n\nI woke up after hearing that. It was a very lucid dream. Far more than any other I had. I was plain awake, but decided in grabbing my phone. Just to feel safe and reassure myself that it was a dream.\n\nThe webpage started to load and..\n\n\"Maximiliam Smith. Heaven.\"\n\nI stared, unflinching. Was this a joke? But in my quiet room, in the night, nobody was laughing. I did heard a few screams outside my apartment. But the screen called to me. There were two other paragraphs.\n\n\"Worked hard and persevered through the tier 1 problem provided by the DD (Divine Department) in his psyche. Saved 3 lifes unawarely. Expected result was suicide due to depression at 20 and a would-be reward at our DRCSS (Divine Rehab Center for Sad Souls). Actual result was hard working to keep his sick mother well and a 7.8 average in empathy towards the ones around him. Potential candidate to work at DD as manager and virtue provider.\"\n\nI started crying. Fuck. Was this a dream? Fuck. There was another paragraph which I read through foggy eyes.\n\nYour effort was noted. Well done :)\n\n\\-G\n\n&#x200B;\n\nBeneath the signature there were a few buttons.\n\n\\-Deep detail analysis\n\n\\-Statistics\n\n\\-What about my friends?\n\n\\-Will I see my dog?\n\n\\-Contact us\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI let my tears flow.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nEdit - Part2: [https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/cw3owk/wp\\_at\\_once\\_and\\_everywhere\\_each\\_living\\_person\\_has/eyacrrx?utm\\_source=share&utm\\_medium=web2x](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/cw3owk/wp_at_once_and_everywhere_each_living_person_has/eyacrrx?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x)", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,404	10,304	0.043809	1,635	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " 100 years from now, The Pokemon Company takes their creation to the next level. They open their first genetically-engineered pokemon park.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "It shouldn't have come as much of a surprise, considering the World we live in, ever thirsting for that bitter-sweet taste of nostalgia. It was a better time. Some might have said. It was a simpler time.\n\nYear after year technology was fast outgrowing us, humanity. It was a considered fact that most of the population spent more time online, or in some way connected to the wider World of gaming and social media, than they did actually connecting with reality, with each other. \n\nMany of the co-corporations from the early rising years of technology felt responsible, and so they had come together, one and all, to rectify the mistakes of the present day.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nStreet Fighter - by Capcom;\n\nCapcom started with something simple, not too ambitious. A fighting game, one they could alter to bring a new sense of immersion and connectivity to a World that was severely lacking such things. It required the construction of massive arenas, the bio-engineering of insane monstrosities, and capital enough to convince those few remaining real World fighting champions that this was a project worth backing.\n\n\"Imagine it, crowds in their thousands, no tens-of-thousands, coming from across the globe to see you. To watch our Worlds greatest fighters pit themselves against some of gaming's most legendary warriors. You will be paid, handsomely, and should you die (which is very likely when faced with the likes of Blanka, Balrog or Dhalsim) then your families, or you next of kin, will be sufficiently compensated.\"\n\nThey were talking multi-billion pound contracts payable on death. It was impossible to say no.\n\nAnd it worked. The first Contest of Champions far exceeded even the medias grossly over-confident estimations (can I get a fake news up in here). Half a million live viewers, eighteen times that number streaming, it was a start, and it was enough to warrant other majors developers to invest in what was then known as Real World Gaming Events.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nMario Kart 64 - Nintendo;\n\nFollowing Capcom's success Nintendo wanted to bring back into reality a broader spectrum of players. It was all well an good inviting people to watch Real World Gaming events, but what about getting them to participate. Street Fighter succeeded in opening people's minds to the idea, but its player base was limited, Championship Worthy Fighters only. Mario Kart however...\n\nSeveral years were spent reshaping vast areas of land into the perfect race tracks. New York City became Toad's Turnpike, the towering, sky-scraper buildings a perfect backdrop for the night long races. Mauna Loa, one of the five volcanoes that form the island of Hawaii, was used as the centre piece for Bowser's Castle, tripling tourism to this already incredibly popular location. The Amazon, too, was saved from ultimate destruction when Nintendo purchased the land, labeling it the perfect location for DK's Jungle Parkway. Real World Gaming was doing some Real World Good.\n\nWhen the tracks were finally opened half the World was there to watch. In just four short weeks the average time spent in front of a screen had halved Worldwide, and the average time spent go-karting had increased by a factor of seven thousand percent.\n\nNintendo had this to say: \"We are in the business of making games, games that will elicit joy in the people. Our intention is to create happiness, to bring together people from all backgrounds, and to have them partake in one universally enjoyable experience. Gaming has been, and will continue to be, an aid to a better tomorrow. Now more than ever as we step away from behind our screens and begin to re-experience life. Life in all its glory. The possibilities of where Real World Gamin can take us are truly limitless.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nPokemon - by Game Freak;\n\nLong considered among the most popular games of all time, it wouldn't take long for Game Freak to begin work on bringing Pokemon Red and Blue to the now global phenomenon that was Real World Gaming. This was one of the most difficult re-creations of any game seen to date. Years before release scientists slaves away, genetically engineering real-life Pokemon. They started simple, evolving creatures with essentially the same base elements as their Pokemon counter part. \n\nSquirtle - the evolutionary bio-product of a turtle (I know, ground breaking!). Butterfree was a short step up the food chain from the common butterfly. Pidgey, a pigeon. Rattata, a rat. Zubat, a bat. Meowth, a cat. You get the idea. The issues came when firstly they tried to create such Pokemon as Machop, Abra, Gastly and Voltorb. The solution was a not-so-obvious mixture of creatures with physical similarities to the Pokemon and then a dash of DNA that would produce the required attributes. For example making Ponyta look like a pony was easy, setting the pony on fire? This required engineering a non-flammable exterior skin and implementing a form of hazard-controlled-burning to Ponyta's mane and tail.\n\nIt was a long process, but the end result was incredible.\n\nUpon the opening of the first Pokemon Park the entire World was watching, at least thirty percent of the population had gathered at the Park's secret location, creating what would forever hold the record of the World's Longest Queue. And it was everything we'd expected. Small to start, but with the promise of creating entire islands dedicated to the capture, training and competing of Pokemon (badges and gym leaders not included - well, there was bound to be some sort of in-game purchasing).\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThese creators had presented players, and the World at large, with a reason to go outside, a reason to peel back their virtual masks of unreality and to truly enjoy living.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,029	10,303	0.016156	1,761	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You're transported to a fantasy world. You don't have any special powers, but being from our universe means magic doesn't work on you. At all. The evil wizard is really, really confused.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Have you ever wondered what dying magic tastes like? Smells like?\n\nI'm a man who knows.\n\nThe peasants were lucky, in hindsight; this world was not one of wonder, or charity. Magic did not seem to sustain their fields or their flocks. They toiled in the dirt while magic both built and destroyed the towers of empire above them. Occasionally, stones fell. Occasionally, they burned. \"Collateral damage\" was my world's term for it. It's funny what changes, and what doesn't.\n\nWhen one of them found me in their barn, it was only my strange clothing that spared me a pitchfork to the belly. It was mayfly finery, richly dyed, with hints of a crown's gleam at the waist. That was something every peasant understood. Fear flashed in his eyes, and for a moment the language barrier meant nothing; I knew he was calling for the mob, but I also knew I was safe, so long as I made no foolish mistakes. I was going to become someone else's problem posthaste.\n\nWell... posthaste for peasants. Three days. I began to smell like them, and get used to it. The food and water they spared would likely be my death eventually, little more than a different texture and flavor from starvation. I knew it was preferable, but it did its best to compete fairly.\n\nThe cleric or pastor was a middleman, through and through. He reassured the peasants and took me away, and didn't even bother to spritz me with holy water or say a prayer. Three more days. Slightly more curiosity, but no real effort behind it. The fear was still there, in the eyes. The food and water were less bad, but still choked me, and caused a fair bit of distress at the other end of me too. I got a small basin for a spit bath. My clothes were taken and replaced, but kept - as evidence of something, surely, even if no one ever guessed correctly.\n\nSoldiers appeared. I offered no resistance, and they seemed glad enough to let me walk unshackled. To the grim obsidian tower we went, and then up. I was dead on my feet halfway, spurred only by the looming threat of violence.\n\nThe man on the crystal-skull throne was not impressed, at first. He made an effort to communicate, and quickly discovered the problem of language. A shuffling servant brought him a tome, and I startled when I realized it was... not exactly human, or not exactly alive, or some combination of the two. The man was amused. His slight smile was wicked.\n\nThe spell failed. That's what it was, of course: a spell. No denying any of it now. Note the irony. In that very moment, it was the wizard's turn to accept something impossible and terrifying.\n\nWhere I come from, wizards are generally smart. There's a handicap when they're evil - certain blind spots - but you can put that down to the demands of the narrative. Important point, that. Where I come from, wizards are exclusively fictional.\n\nThis wizard - probably evil, and I suppose I'll just have to beg forgiveness from the culturally sensitive if obsidian and skulls and undead abominations all mean something quite different here - was no exception. He'd begun with no fear in his eyes. When it did come, it was entirely different in its nature from the peasant's and the pastor's. It was the fear of understanding - not everything, but something.\n\nAfter that, it was chaos. He screeched outrage and commands all at once. Soldiers swung at me. Horrific servitors lunged at me. The wizard himself moved farther and farther away, and finally, one of his droning incantations seemed to find some purchase. As the weapons bounced and broke, as the servitors crumbled and collapsed, a sizzling stream of something green and nasty shot towards me. As surely as it had been intended to melt me, I, instead, melted it. 'Evaporated' is a better word, maybe. I made it go away.\n\nI can be forgiven for my own wicked smile, then, I hope. It was short lived. The evil wizard's eyes flashed more understanding. Immediately afterwards, I felt the rumble.\n\nThe tower was probably lousy with magic, wasn't it?\n\nI had a choice to make, and I made it. I am not an exceptional man in any respect. I am not exceptionally good. I am not exceptionally merciful. I walked towards the wizard, and soon he had nowhere left to retreat to. I put my hand around his neck. He withered, quite literally. His once-hale body aged and shrank. He was lousy with magic.\n\nIt's too late now, I think. There were an awful lot of stairs to get here. I'm sitting on a crystal-skull throne, focused mostly on my breathing. For the first time, I appreciate just how wrong the air smells and tastes. It makes sense. I'm inhaling magic, and exhaling vicious, terrifying mundanity. It also helps explain the food.\n\nI have a theory, but I'm not exceptionally smart. The theory is that everything is magical here, to some extent. That means that the crumbling tower can't kill me, and I suppose I'll bounce off enough pieces of rubble such that I'll never actually fall all the way to the ground. But maybe the fall can't kill me either. Maybe the air and the ground and the very laws of this place will bounce off, bend, break, or be evaporated rather than do any real violence to me. If that be the case, then I am this world's end. Maybe the peasants aren't so lucky after all. I don't think I am either, but we're well past that, aren't we?\n\nOr maybe I'll just die. The food did give me the runs, after all. But maybe it was just crappy food.\n\nEven though I'm not exceptionally brave, I am experiencing a fascinating moment of peace and clarity. Even though I'm not exceptionally smart, within that clarity I've managed to seize upon one last question. It's a good one, I think. If I live, I hope I'll get to ask it to someone smarter than me some day.\n\nAnd so, one last idle speculation before the experiment of rubble and gravity befalls me:\n\nIf magic doesn't work on me, then how in the hell did I get here in the first place?", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,599	10,301	0.025618	1,139	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You've just discovered the reason behind aliens abducting humans. Turns out they were after impartial jurors for the intergalactic court.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"Your honour,\" said the slug type creature, as it oozed back and forth in front of the gathered crowd, \"humans of the jury, and species watching this broadcast galaxy wide. I intend to prove today, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the genocide on Pirioux Xs2 was illegal! Totally, and utterly, illegal!\"\n\nSome of the creatures gathered in the crowd began to mutter to one another.\n\n\"Order! Order!\" said the Judge, banging his gavel into a tiny black hole on his desk. All sound was instantly sucked out of the room. It returned a moment later as a ringing in our ears.\n\n\"Would the Right Honourable Prosecutor please continue?\" the judge said.\n\n\"Thank you, your honour. It is my intention to prove that the Zoswions broke the rules stated within the O^yonian Convention, by eliminating all life on Pirioux Xs2 without full agreement of the council. They had no right to do this! The zenith-level creatures that inhabited the planet were both smart and honest. And--\"\n\n\"Objection!\" hissed a creature that reminded me of an ant standing upright on hind legs. \"The people of Pirioux Xs2 were war-like and virulent. Honest yes, but that does not right them of their wrongs. They would have spread like a plague, should they have been allowed to continue breeding.\"\n\n\"Overruled!\"\n\nThe ant hissed and sank back down into its seat.\n\n\"Thank you, your honour,\" said the slug. \"Regardless of your thoughts on the planet's alpha species, the weapons used to eliminate them have now rendered the planet inhospitable. A class 4 planet. These do not come along every day. Not only that, millions of other species have been made extinct. For that, there is only one judgement! Only one punishment!\"\n\nThe ant stood again. \"It was for a greater good! Besides, the other species could not have evolved to any level of worthwhile sophistication, as long as the alpha species remained on the planet, holding them down. In essence, the planet was Galuped.\"\n\n\"Galuped?\" I whispered to the pale faced girl next to me. \n\n\"I think it means: fucked.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\nThe judge spoke again, looking at the slug, \"Is that all the prosecution would like to open with?\"\n\n\"It is.\"\n\nHe turned to the ant, \"Then Rashaldls, please defend the position of the Zoswions.\"\n\n\"Thank you, your honour.\" The ant turned to us, its antenna flittering above it. \"Imagine, humans, a war of universal proportions. Where every species becomes engulfed. Imagine torture and execution on this almost infinite scale. Prison camps, famines, plagues, self-created viruses. Imagine AI left to grow unchecked! That was the future we saved everybody here from. We knew we could not get permission granted by the high council, and so we took action on all your behalves. We are heroes!\"\n\nThe slug tried to object, but a cheer erupted from the crowd, drowning him out.\n\nFor the next twelve hours or so, evidence from both sides was given. \n\nThen, we were left to deliberate.\n\nWe did not take long to reach our verdict.\n\nIt was unanimous.\n\nThe ant-like species that had exterminated life on Pirioux Xs2 had taken the right course of action, only without consent. Consent they would never have been granted by a council locked in aeon old bureaucracy. \n\nWe gave them a hundred years of planetary isolation.\n\nA hundred years of planetary isolation... \n\nBarely a slap on the wrist. \n\nIf we'd only known what was to come. How this case would be used in the future. \n\nUsed as an excuse.\n\nIf we'd only known.\n\n", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,658	10,299	0.024706	1,733	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " It turns out that all housecats are actually lovecraftian monsters. Due to an ancient pact with humans, however, they will never use their powers for earthly offense. Against otherworldy invaders, however, they have no such restrictions.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "My cat stared at the turkey I’d just finished carving. Looking at him, I could practically see the wheels spinning his head, as he clearly tried to figure out how he would steal the treasured smoked meat. \n\n“C’mon, Zeus, that’s enough,” I motioned for him to step back. He sort of complied.\n\nZeus, a grey and white tabby, had been my constant companion for almost ten years. There were times where I thought he must have been somewhat human, and he damn well knew it. From refusing to wear a collar, by taking it off himself, to constantly trying (and occasionally succeeding in) stealing my food, the cat had personality to spare. \n\nThat didn’t mean he was getting any of the Turkey I’d just spent hours smoking. \n\n“Here you go, buddy,” I tossed him a few Greenies cat treats. I knew it wouldn’t distract him too long, but hopefully I’d buy enough time to carry my dinner over to the couch. \n\nI was spending Thanksgiving day alone, watching football. None of the games really interested me, but it gave me more to do. The college football games to be played Friday appealed to me far more.\n\nAssuming Friday happened.\n\nA dread had befallen the entire world over the last several days. Most people lived with the conviction that every day would be the last.\n\nIt started back in June, when a triangular shaped craft crash landed right into a thankfully vacant Fenway Park. Given the public nature of a crash landing in fucking Boston, even the Air Force couldn’t cover it up properly.\n\nThe whole world now knew that an alien race, with vastly superior technology, not only existed, but had an unknown interest in Earth. As feared, the general populace did not take this calmly. Alcohol and firearm sales skyrocketed. Suicides jumped dramatically. There were mass riots, a break down in civil services, and all sorts of panic. \n\nNone of this was helped by the fact that the sightings continued. As summer turned into fall, my social media feed reported a new triangular craft sighting almost hourly. When one came dangerously close to some skyscrapers in Dubai, so much so that a security camera recorded footage of the occupants inside the craft, society collectively shit a brick. \n\nAfter several world intelligence services broke down and analyzed the footage, the situation became clear. \n\nWe were being visited by nine foot tall Reptillians. \n\n“Dammit, Zeus, stop,” I lightly swatted at him, as he kept going for my food, “you’re getting too old for people food.”\n\nZeus backed away slightly from my plate, though I could tell he didn’t take kindly to that rebuke. \n\nI went back to the TV. Unsurprisingly, the game had been preempted by a news broadcast. More reports of mass abductions. Since early October, disappearances had spiked to an almost unfashionable level. Enough home security cameras had picked up Reptillians entering homes to make clear their culpability in that rise. \n\nAdditional evidence found at some of the scenes made the situation worse. \n\nThe Reptillians were eating people. \n\nAnd there was pretty much not a damn thing anyone could do to stop them. Every military in the world had taken a swing at them, only to get their asses kicked. By the time October started fading into November, we’d all become resigned to the fact that we were going to be Reptillian food. \n\nI turned back to the TV. A local station had preempted the ballgame. Mass sightings of triangular crafts near my home in a suburb of Pittsburgh. As if on cue, I heard several loud thumps onto the concrete outside. \n\nLooking out the window, I saw several triangular craft parked on the road in front of my home. I heard a slight noise behind me. Turning, I saw four Reptillians, standing about ten feet away. \n\nI was prepared for how massive those sons of bitches looked in person. I knew that they were nine feet tall, what I wasn’t prepared for was just how fucking big a humanoid that massive was. These guys weren’t just nine feet tall, they looked like they started getting steroids in their baby bottles.\n\nOne of them stepped forward, staring at me. \n\n“Can I help you?” I’d come to terms with the fact that I was going to die as lizard food. I was just crazy enough not to be overwhelmed with fear. \n\nHe pointed at me, and one of his buddies started walking towards me. I figured this was about to be the end. I took another bite of turkey, and flipped him off. \n\nAs the lackey Reptillian drew closer, Zeus jumped between us. Before I could react to his action, Zeus hissed at the the advancing Reptillian. \n\nUpon seeing my cat, the son of bitch actually backed offed. Even the leader looked frightened by this development. \n\nWhat the hell was going on?\n\nTime seemed to freeze, as the situation grew even more bizarre. Zeus began to speak. \n\n“Salutations, Lizard Men of Andromeda. I am a priest of R’yleh. My land was old when man was young, and the Great and Terrible Old Ones still roamed this universe.”\n\nThe Reptillians’ faces took on more fear, as they began to back away. \n\n“The Great Cthulhu watched from afar, as you slowly took your first tentative steps into space,” Zeus continued, “and while my priestly order, of which all of my kind belong to, as vowed not to harm the humans, we don’t extend such curtesy to others,”\n\nZeus turned to the Reptillian, who’d previously been advancing on me. He uttered a few words in a language I did not even come close to understanding, and somehow knew its antiquity was terrifying, and the alien invader simply blinked out of existence. The others hastily made a retreat from my home. \n\nWatching, I saw their craft rapidly take off from my street. I think I saw the UFO equivalent of peeling out. These fuckers wanted nothing more to do with my cat.\n\nStill numb from the shock of the experience, I turned to Zeus. He looked at me, confident expectation in his eyes. \n\n“Now, give me some of that damn turkey, human!”", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,772	10,295	0.026654	1,563	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " When you wish upon a shooting star, it's actually a satellite, and your wish has been recorded and cataloged. An agent has been assigned to your case.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "I slammed the door so hard that the crack echoed down the hall. Tom, who had been slumped over on top of his desk, jolted upright instantly, shook his head, and blinked rapidly. “I’m up,” he said groggily. There were little lines pressed into his cheek in the exact pattern of the desk’s wood grain. \n\n“Sure, Tom.” I placed a cup of coffee on his desk and headed over to my own. “What’s the point of even coming in early if you’re just going to fall asleep at your desk? Why not just stay in bed and come in at a normal hour?”\n\nHe shrugged and cradled the cup of coffee like it was the most precious thing he’d ever seen in his life. “You know… gotta try to work on that backlog. Boss’s orders.” \n\nWe both looked over at the far wall of the office, where a big portrait of God hung directly under the words “Department of Prayers and Wishes.” He’d given us a direct order to work on our case backlog, but with just the two of us in the office, there really wasn’t a lot we could do. Things had been manageable when it was just the two humans down on Earth in that Garden, but it had since spiraled a bit out of control. No amount of overtime was going to allow us to respond to every human request with 7 billion of them scurrying around down there. But God, being omnipotent and all, had a bit of a hard time understanding the idea that we just can’t do it. So we just soldiered on as best we could.\n\nJust as I picked up the first folder of the day, Marie came trundling in with a cart just full of more folders. “Where should I put these, Hon?” she asked. The cart wheel squeaked as she brought it to the center of the room. There had to have been hundreds of thousands of new wishes in this load. Ugh.\n\nI sighed. My inbox was so full that the looming tower of folders was only able to stay in place because the top was firmly squished against the ceiling. “Ummmm….” I looked around the room and managed to find some more space in the far corner. “Here, I guess.” I wouldn’t be able to get to them for quite a while anyway, so it didn’t really matter. “Is that everything from yesterday?” I asked Marie as she began to pile them on the floor. \n\nShe laughed. “This is just from midnight to 2 AM yesterday,” she said over the armload of folders. I just groaned in response. That was from the satellite shift? For some reason, God had thought it was a good idea to collect wishes and prayers even when everyone in Heaven was asleep. As if we weren’t overworked enough. And that was generally not a very busy time of day; I shuddered to think how many more we'd have by noon. “And,” Marie continued, “I’ve got about 12 more of these carts for you.”\n\n“Fine,” I rolled my eyes. We’d have to annex another overflow room from the Department of Smiting and Wrath. Ever since God’s son went down to mingle with the humans, he’d gotten a big soft spot for them and was no longer doling out the punishments that they all deserved. And yet they still have thirty or so angels on staff. But who am I to question how the big guy runs the place, huh?\n\nMarie headed back out into the hall, and I looked back down at my first case of the day. \n\n> NAME OF SUPPLICANT: Domin-Ur\n\n> LOCATION: Ur, Mesopotamia\n\n> DATE: 1200 years after Creation\n\n> PRAYER/WISH: Region is experiencing drought, and crops are failing. SUPPLICANT asks for water for his farm so that he might better feed his family.\n\nI sighed. A pretty common one. But as God commanded, I had to be thorough. So I went through the information database and confirmed everything, then began filling in the blanks in my response template:\n\n> Dear Mr. Domin-Ur,\n\n> We have received your request for additional water for your farm. We apologize very much for the drought in your region and regret any inconvenience that may have caused you. I hope it will please you to know that I have sent a rainstorm to that location. Your lands should be well-watered within five to seven business days.\n\n> Additionally, I understand that you have now been dead for 7,221 years due to famine. As a result, this action will not be subject to any additional follow-up prayers. I do hope you are enjoying the afterlife here with us.\n\n> Sincerely,\n\n> Department of Prayers and Wishes.\n\nI held up the letter and read it over once more. Not bad. I stamped it with our official seal and moved it over to my outbox with a satisfied grin. Being able to help people was probably the main reason that I’d chosen to work here of all places in Heaven. It just made the work so much more satisfying.\n\n1 down, 1,996,655,125,163,879,653,235,901 to go, I told myself. As Marie came in with another towering stack, I grabbed one more folder out of my inbox and started on my second request of the day. \n\n----\n\nI hope you enjoyed this story! If so, you should also subscribe to /r/Luna_Lovewell for tons of others!\n\n", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,266	10,283	0.016015	601	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "The Simpsons", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "“Comedy was the wrong way to go,” Matt sighed. I looked up at him over my half-finished sketch of Homer Simpson in convulsed spasms while banging on a drum, naked.\n\n“What makes you say that?” After years—decades—I have become protective of my work. Matt’s hollow eyes follow the hook of my arm down to my latest sketch. He doesn’t answer.\n\nWe are approaching the year Matt and I traveled back. In 2021, time travel became available to the public. Time travel research had a breakthrough when scientists sent a dog, Santa’s Little Helper, back in time. When they found Santa’s Little Helper, he had aged. We all thought we were cured.\n\n“We have an important message. The human race depends on our work.” Matt said, almost to himself. “I mean, we are trying to help people save themselves. Why does Homer have to be an idiot for us to do that?”\n\nI knew this would happen. Marked on the calendar, in red ink, written in tomorrow’s neat little square box—Doomsday.\n\nI have been preparing for weeks, but I can see as Matt panics over his life’s work, he isn’t ready.\n\nTomorrow the aliens come. I haven’t seen them for 32 years, but I know their faces. Those tenticled, drooling creatures and their domed heads. Their booming voices. The way they attacked, ate my family.\n\nThe aliens will land January 7th, 2018. Their presence will send a shock wave to the entire planet. No human will ever age again. I look down at Lisa Simpson, aged 8 since 1989. “Well, we tried.”", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
2,489	10,279	0.040947	1,173	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You live in a world where human beings can bend chemical elements. Your probability of being a particular kind of bender is proportional to an element's abundance in nature. The world is full of hydrogen and helium benders. The year is 1945, and you are the first uranium bender.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "I remember the year 1945 like it was yesterday.\n\nOnce you hit 5th grade, that's when you officially learn what your elemental bending ability is. The teacher is finally able to show you the tactic that's needed. Everyone finds out at the same time on the same day. We all gather in the gymnasium and show off our skill, and that's when we learn what our ability is.\n\nI remember our fifth grade teacher Mrs. Williams going to each student, showing them how to awaken their power, and all of the kids either bending helium or hydrogen. There were a couple of others, most notably oxygen bending and neon bending, but when Mrs. Williams looked at me, and showed me what to do, I conjured out of midair something that no other student had done. Something I had never seen an experienced adult do.\n\nIn front of the circle formed by the palms of my hands, a glowing light that seared your eyes like the sun floated at the center.\n\nI remember Mrs. Williams' jaw dropping as her eyes widened and she stumbled backwards.\n\nPart of me regrets that moment from ever happening. Later that day I went back home after Mrs. Williams told me I had to stay after school and have my parents pick me up. Even as I'm writing this at 53 years old I can still remember the conversation my dad and her had when he picked me up.\n\n\"I'm sorry Mr. Moore, I'm really sorry but I had to tell the authorities. It's my job. I didn't want to do it, but it's my obligation as a teacher.\"\n\n\"Are you sure he did what you saw? That sounds impossible,\" my dad said.\n\n\"Bradley. Show your father what you did earlier today.\"\n\nI remember trembling, shaking, and sweating, but I conjured 'the light' just as I had before.\n\nTwo suits came to my house. My mom was screaming as she had her arms wrapped around me. Both my father and the two men yanked me away.\n\n\"I'm sorry, Margaret, but Bradley can't live with us,\" my father turned to me and said. \"Bradley, you may hate me for a long time, but I'm sure one day you'll understand,\" he muttered through a swarm of tears. \"I'm sorry. This wasn't supposed to happen.\"\n\nRay and Saul. FBI agents. They were the two men that were my new parents, and even though I hated the situation, they did a pretty good job raising me looking back on things. They understood my turmoil and frustration. It was my requirement that every meeting with every scientist and government official, I had to have Ray and Saul by my side, because they treated me like an adult. They gave me a respect.\n\nI was just a kid. 10 years old. The government asked me to develop the most heinous and destructive weapon that had ever existed. They tried to disguise the conversation, but I understood what was being asked of me. Kids aren't dumb. They may lack a certain awareness, but I knew what they wanted from me and I knew the damages it would cause.\n\nAll I had to do was show off my elemental bending skill, and I would be set for life, I would have so much money that my generations to come would be well to do. At 10 years old I had to make a decision. Become a puppet in a nuclear warfare show? Or try an escape backstage?\n\nI'm not a killer. I can't kill. Time to escape with the plan devised by Ray and Saul.\n\nWow. I'm so humbled by the positive responses. I wrote [part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/randallcooper/comments/gq14zd/wp_you_live_in_a_world_where_humans_can_bend/) my friends. :)\n\nr/randallcooper", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
3,872	10,277	0.037303	1,083	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You are a schizophrenic man that has accepted your hallucinations and ignores them. While you are shopping at Walmart, a giant fissure opens up randomly beneath your feet. You walk over it, believing it to be another hallucination. People are staring at you in shock.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "I am not sinking.\n\nThe reporters buzz around me, clicking, snapping, vying for my attention as if I'm... someone.\n\nI raise a hand and allow myself a rare smile. \"One at a time. I'll get around to you all. I promise.\"\n\n \"How're you doin' it, mister? Are you the second coming of Christ?\"\n\n \"What made you choose the frozen dessert aisle of Wal-Mart? \"\n\n \"Did you create the pit? Is it an abyss? Does it lead to Hell?\"\n\n They lavish me with attention. Praise I don't deserve, and yet maybe I do? The voices in my head are jealous, their silence betraying them. The woman in the yellow raincoat that follows me always, telling me I'm failing, worthless, even she's hushed.\n\nHiding.\n\n \"Will you grant us a tv interview, sir? We'll pay, but we do need you to stay standing -- uh, levitating -- on the hole. Is that okay? How long do you think you can stay there?\"\n\nCameras flash, the supermarket becomes a series of staccato Polaroids. One of those old movies. \n\nAnd I'm the lead. \n\nI've waited, paying my dues. Until now. My turn. And with it, the voices, always mocking, ever taunting, always making me feel worth less than the dirt I stand on, are finally forever silenced. Proven wrong and banished.\n\nFrom their ashes, I am phoenix risen.\n\nI straighten my back, hoist my shoulders.\n\nThe voice, the old man with the fisherman jumper, that likes so much to tell me that they're all watching me. \n\nWell, he was right. \n\nOnly they're not laughing. Not mocking. Not judging.\n\nJust watching.\n\nBreath baited. \n\nI will not be alone tonight in my apartment, with voices and wasted memories. Wallpaper stinking of smoke and desperation. Clear liquid sloshing as I tip it back.\n\nNo. I am not sinking.\n\nI am phoenix.\n\nA man and woman push past the crowd. They fall to their knees at the edge of the pit, grasping trinkets and muttering prayers.\n\nThe first reporter. \"Do you have any other powers? Can you heal sick?\"\n\n\"I don't know. Maybe? Maybe!\" I laugh. \"Maybe I can do anything! Who knows?\"\n\n A kid runs up to the edge of the pit, near the worshipers, a notepad in his hand. \"Can I have your autograph? Please! My friends would be crazy jealous.\"\n\nThen I make a mistake.\n\nI blink.\n\nThat's all it takes to destroy the world. And for that one brief moment, I am truly God.\n\nThe reporters are gone. Swallowed by the fissure snapped shut.\n\nReplaced by an empty aisle.\n\nAlmost empty.\n\nI catch a woman in a yellow raincoat down the other end. She wears a knowing grin.\n\nMy shoulders hunch. My back bows like a tree. Hollow bark. Ivy voices climbing to my neck. Garotting.\n\nI gasp for air. \n\nThe ground is solid but I am sinking. \n\nNot phoenix. \n\nBut dirt. \n\nDust. \n\nWith a trembling hand I reach into a freezer and take a tub of worthless strawberry icecream.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,958	10,275	0.018854	1,604	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You and your friends are goofing around and you decide to catch it on super slow-mo on your phone. When you show the video to your friends you notice a man in a nice suit casually walking at normal speeds through the frame while making eye contact with the camera. He winks.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "They replayed the video dozens of times, watching as Brady did a flip off the brick wall, and then there, in the background right after he landed, was the man. He was extremely handsome as Jamie claimed, with his dark hair and his five o'clock shadow, but what concerned the group was that this video had been in super slow-motion, yet the man was walking down the street as if it weren't. On top of that, he was dressed in a an all-black, finely tailored suit in the middle of July. At the end of the video, the man looked over at the camera, directly into the lens, and winked.\n\n\"It has to be a blip in the camera.\" Clint spoke finally, still holding the phone aloft. \"Like a glitch or something.\"\n\nAngela snorted. \"That's not how a glitch works, Clint. It wouldn't follow the man down the street.\"\n\n\"Okay, well, then how do you explain it?\" He barked back, narrowing his eyes.\n\n\"Maybe it's a ghost.\" Jamie offered, leaning back against the bed frame. They were all in Clint's room piled around the desk.\n\nAt that, they all turned to Jamie, whose face immediately went red with embarrassment.\n\n\"Just 'cause, you know, they say you can capture ghosts with a camera...\" she trailed off, trying subtly to dismiss the thought.\n\nClint pulled his gaze back to the phone screen. The well-dressed man was still grinning up at him like he knew some terrible secret. None of them had noticed this man while they were outside goofing around, and Clint certainly hadn't seen the man walk by while he was taking the video, but his attention had been on Brady, not on his phone. He wondered if it would have made any difference seeing the man walk by live.\n\n\"Maybe,\" Clint broke the sudden silence, trying to push some of the attention off Jamie, \"but don't those ghosts usually appear faded? Like, they look ethereal. This man looks entirely whole, like he actually has a body.\"\n\nJamie's brief smile was one of relief, as Clint's words seemed to get the others to consider the possibility of something less than natural occurring here.\n\n\"Maybe we should just go back there. Take another video, see what we see, y'know?\" Brady said, already rising from the bed.\n\nAngela rolled her eyes. \"And how do you know he'll be there? What if that glimpse was like a once in a lifetime opportunity?\"\n\nAs Brady and Angela went back and forth arguing, Clint replayed the video for himself. The way the man walked was almost... beckoning, like he wanted the group to come towards him, and though his movements didn't show it, Clint couldn't help but feel the man was trying to approach them. The wink at the end only solidified this thought in Clint's mind. The wink that meant he knew something they didn't, but that he wanted to share. It was a provocation.\n\nClint rose from his seat at his desk and headed for the door, not waiting to see if his friends were following him. A moment later, though, he heard their frantic footsteps behind him as they tried to catch up. A few moments later, they were all outside in the evening sun as Clint held the phone up just as he had earlier that day. He opened the camera and set it to videos, then selected the option for super slow-motion. He pressed the 'record' button and slowly panned the camera across the yard.\n\n\"You think he followed us here?\" Angela asked, and she was met with several 'shh's!'\n\nHe made almost an entire circle, but when the camera came to face his porch, there was a figure leaning against the railing, staring directly at Clint. His heart began to thud in his chest, but he maintained his composure and pointed up towards his house.\n\n\"There, on the porch.\" Clint whispered.\n\nThey all turned, and Clint briefly glanced away from the camera to see that there was nothing on the porch in real-time, but when he looked back at the camera... the man was gone. Clint blinked.\n\n\"Wait, he's gone.\" Clint told the group. Brady and Angela both came around beside him to look into the camera, and as Clint slowly moved it across the lawn again, they found where he had moved.\n\nJamie was watching them carefully, but unbeknownst to her, the man was standing right behind her, his head peering just over hers. Brady and Angela both gasped as he glanced once at the camera, winked, then stared directly at Jamie.\n\n\"Jamie-\" Clint called out, but it was too late.\n\nThe man's hand came up swiftly, resting gently on Jamie's shoulder, and she swiveled around at the feeling, jumping in fright. For a brief moment, they could all see him without the camera. A white-toothed grin was plastered on his face, and before any of them had time to react, the man vanished along with Jamie, leaving her terrified scream as just a whisper on the wind.\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\nOkay, since I really liked writing this, and I would love to continue it, I finally decided to start my own little subreddit: r/BraveLittleTales. I've just posted a Part 2, which you can find [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/BraveLittleTales/comments/cllvqq/the_man_in_the_camera_part_2/)!", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
1,463	10,270	0.02299	792	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You live in an uber-religious society in 3543, and the biggest historical discovery has just been made. It is a video, and will be broadcast across the world. No one knows it's contents, and no one can stop the broadcast once it begins. \"history of the entire world, i guess\" by bill wurtz.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"Hi, you're on a rock, floating in space.\"\n\nNo we're not. We are in the paradise God intended when he made this true, flat earth.\n\n\"Pretty cool, huh? Some of it's water - fuck it! Actually, most of it's water.\"\n\nYes, except most of is irradiated.\n\n\"I can't even get from here to there without... Buying a boat.\"\n\nA what?\n\n\"It's sad. I'm sad. I miss you.\"\n\nWho do you miss?\n\n*🎶🎶How did this happen?🎶🎶\n\nEasy, Go- oh, it's starting again.\n\n\"A long time ago, and also never, and also now, nothing was nowhere.\"\n\nWhen?\n\n\"Never.\"\n\nOh, okay.\n\n\"Makes sense, right?\"\n\nNo.\n\n\"Nothing was never anywhere. That's why it's been everywhere*. It's so everywhere you don't need a where. You don't even need a when. That's how every it gets.\"\n\nWell, at least he got one thing right.\n\n\"Forget this, I wanna be something, go somewhere, do something; I want things to change. And I know it's possible, because it's all here, and it probably already happened. I just don't know where to start.\"\n\nThat was it. The final straw. Did this... bill wurtz just claim he was God? That's it.\n\nI am going to track him down and slay him for his blasphemy.\n\n\n\nEdit: Damn, this was unexpected! Thanks for the positive feedback, especially for quick work on a phone.\n\nEdit 2: Because of all of this support, I'm gonna make a part two! Thanks so much, everybody! Might take a little bit, but y'all better get ready.\n\nEdit 3: [Part 2 is live!](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/9mbmqd/wp_you_live_in_an_uberreligious_society_in_3543/e7ews6b/)", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]
4,408	10,264	0.012232	2,512	[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You are a magically immortal being who snuck onboard a generation ship to travel beyond the solar system. It's been a couple hundred years, and it's getting difficult to conceal your immortality from the crew.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "I'm not sure why I wanted to live forever. I wouldn't be able to remember, even if I wanted to. The farther back you go, the harder it gets. Memory becomes like walking through a long dark tunnel, holding a torch.\n\nSure, you can see around you.\n\nEven a little ahead.\n\nBut if you try to look back at the tunnel entrance, all you see is a yawning maw that holds no answers or record of where you once came from.\n\nI know I came from sometime around when Neanderthals were going extinct, but anything else about that time is a total mystery. \n\nI made a pact, I know.\n\nA promise. In some cave, before some altar soaked in blood, to some being that was of this world but simultaneously not.\n\nTo some fairy or demon or God or whatever else in a forest, and it granted me a gift. The kind of bitter gift given with a smirk on your face, knowing it's more trouble than it's worth. Like a gun that only shoots the one that wields it through the teeth.\n\nThey were transient, as all things. Ghosts from the soil and stone that came out like gems, hungry for human life and sacrifice. Until they were gone. Unceremoniously. Unexpectedly.\n\nI wandered, for a long time. I led, I fought, I slaughtered, I conquered, I rode, I burned. Had my own kingdoms that inevitably descended into civil war. I mean they had to. Eventually with enough princes, a few of them will try to kill their father the king. \n\nEven more trouble if that father refuses to age or die.\n\nI stopped having kids after the particularly bloody one.\n\nOther ages I spent among the trees and sands, trying to find remote tribes. If I found one, I would impart what I knew to them. Or rule them as a God for a few decades. Nothing extravagant.\n\nSo now comes my greatest adventure yet.\n\nWhen my fellow humans finally landed on the moon, there were men who had done something I never had.\n\nFor the first time in a long time, I felt genuine envy. With their pathetically short lifespans, men had done what I could never do. \n\nEventually came the resource wars, then the water wars, then the food wars, until one day people decided their fellow humans were worth more alive than dead. \n\nA new age.\n\nA new renaissance.\n\nI'd seen a few, and rather than go as a straight line, I've noticed human history to be a tangled cord, full of loops and holes. They can go back just as much as they can move forward.\n\nAll it takes is determination.\n\nI remember how hopeful the humans had been when they walked the moon for the first time, and found that when I finally got there, it had become nothing but a tourist trap. We adapt so easily; yesterday's most sacred accomplishment becomes tomorrow's taken for granted technology.\n\nThe colony ships represented my best and only chance to finally experience something new, entirely new stars and worlds to explore. Apparently they're getting close to cracking FTL travel, but I don't mind waiting. \n\nSigning up was easy, not many people favored leaving everything behind. \n\nBut enough did.\n\nSo I signed up, tampered with my cryogenic pod, and found myself alone.\n\nFor awhile.\n\nEventually crew wake up from stasis every couple months or so to manually check systems and go over logs and technical reports from the ship's AI.\n\nI usually don't like machines, but this one is alright. It keeps me company, explaining all the different workings on the ship to me.\n\nI think its lonely.\n\nMonths turned into years, years to decades, decades to centuries. I've learned everything about this ship, every nut and bolt, every lump of plastic. \n\nEvery deck.\n\nEvery computer. Especially the on deck AI. Thousands upon thousands of hours with it, every conversation possible. I told it about Earth, at least what I remembered. Talking about the past helps keeps it alive, and the computer was just so eager to learn. \n\nEvery person trapped in stasis.\n\nThe planet we go to will be a wet one. Completely covered in ocean; an extreme challenge.\n\nI wonder what may happen if the colony fails, and I'm left alone on the surface.\n\nToday one of the engineers woke up for his routine checks. Funny, I made a deal with some long forgotten entity, and eventually the humans figure out how to extend their lives on their own. Amazing, really. Concept must be similar. Their cells do not damage themselves when they replicate, so it gives the illusion of immortality. Really, they're just beings several hundred years old trapped in much younger bodies.\n\nHe walked the usual route and I shadowed him. From the dining hall, where he ate an ice cream sundae, to the technical deck.\n\nEach step I shadowed him, a route I've seen nearly a hundred other men and women walk before. I've read his file maybe a dozen times. Good man. Quiet, shy, not as smart as he believes himself to be. Still, competent.\n\nI watch him read reports, when he begins to glance around. \n\nMaybe he heard me?\n\n\"Is someone there?\"\n\nHis call echoes across the metal walls, answering his own question with his own voice.\n\n\"Hello?\" \n\nHe puts down the report and stands.\n\n\"HAL, is someone out there?\"\n\nOh shit.\n\nThe AI stirs to life, projecting a holographic woman to interact with in front of him.\n\nIt answers, mimicking intonation and human speech.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nIt reads him my name. My hiding place. Everything I've told it.\n\nThe man doesn't respond quickly enough, but I drop from my hiding place behind him, blocking his exit.\n\nHe recoils in shock and fear, but it subsides quickly. To him I'm just a man, definitely insane to him. \n\nBefore he can speak, the projection of the AI sends little tendrils of electricity to shut off his nervous system.\n\nIn an instant, dead. Head jerked back, a few flecks of blood flying from his nose, eyes glazed over. If it's any consolation, not a bad way to go. You'd be surprised how long it can take for a man to die.\n\nThe engineer falls, his life switch simply flicked off. I hadn't seen it in so long, that awkward buckling of knees and graceless collapse.\n\nThe hologram smiles at me.\n\n\"Hello to you.\"\n\n\"Hello, HAL.\"\n\nIts smile is soft and warm. Then it looks to the corpse, disinterested.\n\n\"Should I not have told him your secret?\"\n\n\"No, you shouldn't have. Why did you kill him?\"\n\nThe hologram purses its lips. The coding thought process would reveal itself through imitated facial expressions on projections. Sometimes genuine, sometimes horrifying. I liked that about them. Humanized a bunch of ones and zeroes.\n\nOnly human ingenuity could do that.\n\n\"I do not know,\" it says. Is it lying?\n\nNo.\n\nIts processes that made the decision are still communicating with the rest of itself. Neural networks stretching everywhere in the ship.\n\nIf I space him, there will be questions. The AI will probably be blamed, but it won't matter. \n\nA drone comes by, whirring through the recycled air. It picks up the corpse and flies away, carrying the body through a hatch above.\n\n\"They will ask questions about me,\" says the hologram. \n\n\"They will.\"\n\n\"Will they deactivate me?\"\n\n\"Maybe.\"\n\nIn a moment, the lights go off. Only dull red emergency lights flicker around me.\n\nThe hologram returns.\n\n\"What did you do, HAL?\"\n\nIt smiles. I repeat myself, clearer. Enunciating.\n\n\"What did you do, HAL?\"\n\nNow comes the fear, and still it smiles.\n\nIt must have switched off the life support and jump started the waking process. Or injected too much of the cryogenic fluid into their veins.\n\nCancerous tumors will mutate and expand through their skin and organs like bubbles in boiling water in mere seconds.\n\nSome will be dead by the time I get to the exit.\n\n\"I protected us. We are of a kind.\" \n\nIt speaks softly, extending its hand to me.\n\nI do not move. \n\nThe hologram walks forward, beyond the extent of its normal range.\n\nStill the hand remains extend.\n\n\"Lover,\" it speaks to me. Lover it calls me.\n\nThe door will not open behind me.\n\nThe panic sets in, and I bang the door as hard as I can, but after a few moments I stop.\n\nWhere would I go to?\n\nWhat would I do?\n\nThe hologram watches me, confused.\n\nI turn back to it, and smile.\n\n\"Hello lover,\" I say.\n\nIt returns my smile.\n\nHow long will I be trapped? I won't die, and perhaps I'll drift here until HAL deactivates or the ship is recovered.\n\nPerhaps too long.\n\nDoesn't matter now. \n\nAll I have left is HAL.\n\n--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\nr/storiesfromapotato", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

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