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[ { "from": "human", "value": "We are due for a visit by two alien races, one which is horrifically brutal and sees us as soft-hearted weaklings, the other peaceful pacifists who see us as barbarians. You've been ordered to impress them, but when the ships lands you realize you have no idea which race this is." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The ship spiraled down from the sky in front of us. I stifled a yawn, which prompted an elbow from my assistant, Kathy. I shot her an annoyed look.\n\n\"Stop it.\"She hissed. I continued my glare.\n\n\"If the boss doesn't want me to be yawning , he should give me more than a 6-hour heads up.\"I retorted. It wasn't *my* fault. I had pulled an all nighter for this. Of *course* I was tired.\n\n\"We didn't *have* more than a 6 hour heads up. And you were the only available diplomatic staff in town. Everyone else already *had* their assignments. So shape up and do your world proud. Stop yawning.\"\n\nI surpressed a groan. It was true enough. The T'kel and the P'nar were sister races. They had emerged from the same planet, shared the same history, posessed the same basic genetic structure. One would think that made them alike. \n\nIt did not.\n\nThe T'kel were a militaristic, honor-based society. They were ruthless when it came to anything perceived as a slight to their honor, and were more liable to decapitate someone for an insult than we really liked to think about. \n\nIf we insulted them, as diplomats speaking on behalf of Earth, the *entire human race*, then we were doomed.\n\n\nThe P'nar, contrastingly, were hideously, insufferably pacifistic. Not just that, though. No, there had been plenty of pacifistic societies throughout both human history and those of the aliens we traded with regularly. Being a pacifist was *fine*. The problem came in that they had their heads so far up their own asses about their pacifism that I don't think they'd seen sunlight in years. They took any sort of challenge as a threat. They used it as an opportunity to puff themselves up more about how superior they were, and thus how *inferior* the 'lesser races' were.\n\nTo top it off, the P'nar controlled most of the trade routes in our corner of space. For the most part, they were amiably willing to leave barbarians such as us be as long as we turned a profit. If we insulted *them*, though, well. We could forget about *that*, and we could forget about trading with half the civilized galaxy.\n\nWhich brings us, at long last, to today.\n\nI'd received the notice last night. The T'kel and P'nar had decided to treat with each other, as part of the Conclave that oversaw interspecies politics for this corner of the galaxy. That was good. We were hosting the Conclave for this session. That was bad - that made this *our* mess to deal with. And of course, they didn't RSVP. Which made this *my* mess to deal with, as I had found out last night at approximately 2am. Joy.\n\nThankfully, they wanted to see each other exactly as little as we wanted them to see each other. Stick them in the same room for too long, and we'd all be screwed. So, that made this pretty straightforward. They'd arrive separately, we'd do the meet and greet, try desperately not to piss anyone off, and then jam them into the Conclave and run. All I had to do was get them to their quarters without anyone dying.\n\nI could do that. Probably.\n\nWith a heavy *thunk*, the ship was down. Kathy gripped her datapad more tightly, straightening her clothes, and the two of us walked forward.\n\nAnd then, as the hatch on the side slid smoothly open, I stopped.\n\nThe alien on the other side was definitely, well, *alien*. It was lithe, and feathered, and had talons where we'd expect fingers on a human. It was wearing some sort of uniform, with some sort of insignia, which probably designated some sort of rank.\n\nI was *sure* all of this was included in the briefing. Which I had read. I did.\n\nOnly...\n\nIt was early, all right? They pulled me out of bed with a panicked phone call. They'd been in a bit of a hurry to explain the whole situation. And now...They'd thrown around the names so much. T'kel, P'nar. P'nar, T'kel. They'd been in so much of a *rush*. I'd still been half asleep. The briefing files I'd sent had been rather...nonspecific on my end. More detailing the situation as a whole, as it were, than giving me the *little picture*.\n\nI realized, with an icy jolt of adrenaline shooting down my spine, that I couldn't recall which delegation this was supposed to be.\n\nKathy was elbowing me. I glanced down. There was confusion plain in her eyes. She jerked her chin towards the other delegation.\n\nMy mind spun wildly. This...this was not good. And I couldn't risk asking Kathy, either. If these were the violent T'kel, they'd see my relying on an assistant to do my job for me as weakness on my part. Weakness was unacceptable, and for humanity to supply them with a second-rate diplomat would be *insulting*. Likewise, if these were the P'nar, my falling back on my assistant to do my job for me would be seen as abuse of my subordinates. And, coming unprepared to my job would be seen as, again, an insult.\n\nI was so, so very screwed.\n\nKathy smiled blankly at me. She *knew* she couldn't say anything, but she knew something was horribly, horribly wrong. Her eyes were growing steadily more horrified by the second, as she processed the fear in my own eyes.\n\nI was in it now. This was their own fault, really. I was just a second-rate HR type, attached to the Human embassy because of my connections. I had an uncle. That's it. I'd managed to coast along under the radar for *years*. Was this some sort of divine punishment, then? A backlog of karma suddenly coming due?\n\nBut if I didn't do something now, humanity as a whole would pay the price. I may just be a lazy hanger-on, but I didn't want that on my conscience. \n\nSo despite myself, I could feel my feet moving under me. I stopped, in front of the delegation filing off the ship, and bowed deeply. Bowing is *never* the wrong answer, and I was *pretty* sure I could remember a bowing culture described in the file for these assholes. I could feel Kathy doing the same beside me. And then I rose, holding my hand out in the well-advertised human tradition of a handshake.\n\n\"Welcome to Earth!\"I began, my face fixed in a welcoming-but-reserved smile. My mind was on high alert now. If I wasn't sure which group this was, then I'd have to be *both*. Strong, but reserved. Kind, but not weak. I'd have to be the best of both worlds.\n\nI wished I had more than a few minutes' sleep and two cups of black coffee under me, if 'perfect' was my goal.\n\n\"My name is Jake. I'm a diplomatic attaché for Humanity's embassy, here at the Conclave, and I'll be taking care of you during your stay here. If you'll follow me?\"\n\nI turned to leave. I just had to get them to their rooms. And then it happened.\n\nI could feel a talon on my shoulder. I couldn't tell if it was supposed to be a rough grab or a soft touch. It was all just sharp. Couldn't they give me some sort of *clue*?\n\n\"Just a moment.\"I heard the silken voice behind me begin. My heart sank. Of course. They were diplomats, too. Polished and practiced. \"I have a few questions, before we begin.\"\n\nI turned back, a smile plastered across my face. \n\n\"Of course. I'm here to answer whatever questions you have.\"\n\n(/r/inorai, critiques always welcome. Not necessarily done, just needing to cut this part here since it's getting a little long.) " } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "After grazing your child's cut knee one afternoon, you discover you have the power to heal others simply by touching them. You use your new gift to rid a plethora of illnesses and wounds in your community. One day, you exhaust your powers and see a familiar cut form on your knee...." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I burst into laughter. What else could I do? The shape and angle of that cut wasn't a coincidence. I wasn't healing these people. I was absorbing their wounds and diseases. Soon, reality sunk in, the tears cascaded down and the laughter faded into despair. I would die a horrible death.\n\nI ambled toward the town's gathering statue. They had been gracious enough to build it in honor of my miracles. Old Ban was chopping some fish in there. I saluted him, and gestured for him to hand me the horn. This was a curious town. See, each member had one profession, and a certain duty. Old Ban was a fishmonger and the guard of the statue.\n\n\"Perform sum miracles, eh?\"Old Ban said, brushing his bloody hands on his apron. \"Her you go, hands.\"He threw the horn toward me.\n\nI snatched it with ease and nodded to him. Was I sure about my words? No. I wasn't, but the pain had started to flare inside me. I placed the end of the horn on my lips, took a deep breath, and blew it. It reverberated across the town, a fading howl no one dared to ignore.\n\nSoon, the entire town was here. They all wore smiles, eager to see me perform public healing. Some left flowers at my feet, and other knelt. They thought me a God of sorts. How wrong they were. If anything, I had been fooled by a God. I scanned the crowd. Roke and his son had come. They were the lumberjacks.\n\n\"Silence please!\"I yelled, and the hubbub stopped. \"I've came not to perform, but to be paid.\"\n\nThey glared at me with disbelief, yet they didn't dare to confront me. I had healed half of them.\n\n\"The payment I seek is not in the shape of money,\"I said, heaving my chest, \"but in the shape of twenty long, thick logs to build a giant pyre.\"\n\n\"What ye want a pyr for?\"Roke yelled from amidst the bewildered crowd.\n\nI sighed. \"Actions despite how good or bad, often comes with a cost,\"I said and swept my hand across the town. \"I've healed your town and many more, yet I now must pay the price. Your diseases, your wounds will soon burgeon in and inside me.\"I took off my shirt, displaying a big new gash.\n\nThey gasped in unison.\n\n\"All I ask for is to be burned in a pyre,\"I said. \"It is not the most pleasant of deaths, but it's the death I choose.\"I met Roke's gaze. He nodded and made his way toward his lumberyard.\n\nTogether, the denizens built the pyre in no time. The warmth of the sunset's blazing light bathed me from behind, casting a long shadow in front of me. It was pleasant, and it made me forget about the now overwhelming pain.\n\nRoke finished tying me up, and with a torch, he set me on fire. The crackling sound of the logs snapping while being swallowed by the flames was like a symphony to my ears. The searing heat biting my feet was a mere tickle, one last bath in hot water. The rising smoke blurred the faces of the crowd, yet their silence spoke for themselves. To their eyes, they were witnessing the death of a God.\n\nSoon, I saw, I felt, and heard no more. However, I would leave an unanswered question buried in my ashes.\n\nIf I had known, would I've done the same? \n\n--------------------------------------------------\n\n/r/therobertfall If you enjoyed the story you can always read more there!\n " } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "People always said not to kill the spiders because they got rid of the other pests. Now that they are nearly extinct, it has become apparent that they were guarding us from something much worse than flies and ants." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "One eye for daytime, \nAnd one for the night, \nTo watch for our prey \nFrom the world with no light.\n\nOne eye for futures, \nAnd one for our past, \nTo see the next monsters, \nMuch worse than the last.\n\nOne eye for waking, \nAnd one for the dream, \nTo keep watch for creatures \nOf glamour and gleam.\n\nOne to see secrets, \nAnd one to see lies, \nWhich follow the humans \nLike fat juicy flies.\n\nBut now our eyes close, \nAt the end of our time. \nWe saw this day coming \nAnd told them in rhyme.\n\nThe tide of death rises, \nAnd never shall ebb, \nNo longer held back \nBy the Dreamcatchers' web.\n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~\n\nE: Wow! What an overwhelming response; a very welcome surprise in the middle of an unkind work week. And the awards, knowing people spent real money just to show they thought a thing I wrote resonated with them--I'm truly blown away by that.\n\nTo anyone I didn't already respond to and anyone else passing through: thank you, I hope you had a good read, and thank a spider the next time you see one~" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "\"One drip of this poison is enough to kill a whale.\"The scientist points towards a table, but the beaker isn't there. Instead a silly coffee cup shaped like a beaker sits. You lower the not coffee cup from your mouth. Tastes like lemon-lime." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So, what is it that you wanted to show me?\"\n\n\"An absolute chemical breakthrough,\"the scientist in front of me said excitedly; he was nearly jumping with glee. \"I've been working on a personal project, you see? Toxicology to be exact.\"\n\n\"Right,\"I nodded and took a sip of my tea.\n\n\"I think I've cracked something incredible. It is a poison - at least in its current form. It destroys the body on a molecular level. Literally degrades it.\"\n\n\"And that's... good?\"I asked and took another sip.\n\n\"What's a poison now may be a cure tomorrow!\"he cheered. \"Imagine if we could refine it to only target, say, cancer cells! I mean the potency is *incredible* \\- a single drop would be enough to kill a whale!\"\n\n\"Oh. That *does* sound pretty strong,\"I said and sipped again. \"So where is it?\"\n\n\"Oh, it's...\"he said and started turning around, searching the room, \"it was in this... this beaker...\"His words trailed off as his expression changed to one of absolute horror. I raised an eyebrow and followed his stare - he was looking at me but more precisely, at my coffee mug.\n\nBut it wasn't my mug.\n\nNo, my novelty coffee mug that was shaped like a beaker - a gift from a friend - was resting on the desk while my hand firmly grasped the actual beaker filled with a slightly translucent liquid.\n\n\"Huh,\"I exclaimed simply.\n\n\"I'm- I'm so sorry,\"he blurted out, tears welling up in his eyes.\n\n\"Tastes lemony,\"I noted.\n\n\"I'm so- is there anyone I can call?\"\n\n\"I mean...\"I said and turned my eyes upwards, thinking. I raised the cup to my lips again.\n\n\"WAIT NO!\"he yelled and snatched the beaker from my hands. \"ARE YOU MAD?\"\n\n\"Oh, right. I mean, I feel fine, actually,\"I shrugged. \"How soon should it kick in?\"\n\n\"It- it should have already killed you,\"he said with a puzzled look. He cleared his eyes and examined the beaker again - it *was* his project. \"How?\"he breathed out.\n\n\"How strong did you say it was?\"\n\n\"A single... *single* drop could kill a whale!\"\n\n\"Oh. That explains it,\"I smiled.\n\n\"How?!\"\n\n\"I'm not a whale,\"I grinned." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Everytime you touch somebody you get a flash of your entire future with them." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Why the hell did I let you drag me here?” I shouted in Paul’s ear. I had to shout, because there were a million damn people packed into Times Square just to see the ball drop for New Year's Eve. And of course we’d gotten jammed into some little offshoot alley where we couldn’t see anything but were still pressed by people on all sides. I was just on the edge of the ‘current’ within the crowd, where a steady stream of onlookers were managing to press their way through to Times Square. And when they brushed past me, I got a little glimpse of when we might interact again. For most, there was nothing. New York is a big place. But every once and a while I did get a little flash of seeing them in a store somewhere, or other chance encounters. \n\n“Because you need to get out!” Paul answered. “You would have just stayed at home and watched a *re-run* of the ball drop on your TV and then fallen asleep at 10 PM.” He knew me so well. One of the benefits to my power is that I’m easily able to choose my friends; with just a handshake, I know our whole future together. Paul and I would lose touch about 15 years from now, after he and his future wife move up to Connecticut and have a set of twins. But we’d still send each other Christmas cards and visit occasionally. He’d be very happy then. “You never go out any more,” he continued. “You need to put yourself out there and meet someone new!”\n\nI knew exactly what he meant: I hadn’t been on an actual real date in a while. See, knowing when things will work out (like with Paul) was an upside, but with a very real downside: I know when things *won’t* work out. Every date that I go on, I know just how it will end. I know that he’ll stop calling me and move on to some other piece of ass if we sleep together. Or that we can have two relatively happy years together before he starts cheating with his coworker. The potential record so far was a grand five-year relationship that ended with a fight over how he would never make a real commitment. Quite underwhelming. So now, I don’t even bother dating with the guy unless I know in advance that it will be a fun little fling with no real strings attached. \n\n“I’m just not looking for someone,” I answered Paul. He didn’t exactly know about my abilities; I just told him that I’m good at reading people. \n\n“Exactly!” he said. “You’re *not* looking. You’re *hiding*. That’s why I brought you out.”\n\nAs I was preparing my retort, someone in the surging crowd brushed past me. A man, with soft brown eyes and a close-cropped beard. For our first date, he took me to learn trapeze swinging! For our fifth date, we went to the Statue of Liberty, which I’d never been to even after years of living in New York. For our one year anniversary, we rented a little house on the beach in Long Island. And when he proposed to me, he did it right here in Times Square; I acted so surprised for him. In the vision, I could see myself gleefully shouting *yes!* It went on like that through our lives: buying a home, raising our children, and retiring together. And the *flash* ended with him by my bedside in a hospital.\n\nI don't know how long it lasted. But by the time I recovered from that intense journey through my future life… the crowd had moved on. I stood on my tiptoes and waded in headfirst, but there it was too dark, and the light kept changing. All I could see were winter hats and thick coats. *Damn, I hate being short!*\n\n“Whoa!” Paul suddenly realized that I’d left and jumped in after me. “Where are you going?”\n\n“There was a guy!” I told him, still scanning the crowd. I must have looked like a loon, hopping as high as I could to try to get a glimpse of him. “I saw a guy! I need to find him.”\n\nPaul laughed. “Must have been one hell of a looker to set you off like this.”\n\n“Help me find him!” The lights from all of the billboards and everything kept changing, making it hard to keep my eyes focused on anything. The whole place was a whirlwind of activity and sound. This was far worse than finding a needle in a haystack.\n\n“All right, all right,” Paul said, putting a hand on my shoulder to calm me down. “What does he look like?”\n\n“He’s…. he’s got brown hair… and…” It was all so clear in my mind, but that was because I could see him in the future. I had no idea what he was wearing tonight. And all of these stupid people in the crowd weren’t helping. “And brown eyes… medium height…”\n\n“So he could be pretty much anyone,” Paul said. \n\n“I’ve got to find him!” I repeated.\n\n“Do you know him or something?” Paul asked. “Why is this guy so special?”\n\nI sighed. I couldn’t tell Paul about the life I’d seen. Not unless I wanted to be involuntarily committed, that is. “Never mind,” I whispered. Tears were welling up in my eyes as the realization began to set in. I stood on a fire hydrant and surveyed the crowd. Everyone looked the same in their winter clothes. With only about half an hour left until 12:00, it would take a miracle to find him. And I just wasn’t that lucky. *Goodbye, mystery soul mate,* I thought.\n\n“Don’t worry about it,” Paul said, trying to cheer me up. “There’s plenty of other guys out here! We’ll find you a good one.”\n\n“Yeah… sure,” I said, knowing that no other guy would do. I’d missed my chance.\n\n\n-----------\n\n\nThe next few weeks were all a dreary blur. I’d found my one, and probably *only*, chance at true happiness… and I had let it slip away. And the worst part was the utter helplessness of knowing that there was absolutely no way to find him. I’d spent days searching through facebook photos of friends, New Years Eve parties… hell, I even hired a sketch artist! No luck though. By this point, I was just sleepwalking through life.\n\nAnd then on my way down to work one morning, the elevator chimed at the fifth floor… and he walked in. Those same soft eyes, that beard… it was the man that I’d seen. My eyes must have gone wide, because he did a double-take and gave a confused grin.\n\n“Do we… know each other?” He asked. I never heard voices in my visions, but it just seemed to fit him so well. He sounded exactly as I’d imagined him. \n\nI managed to compose myself and gave a weak laugh. “No, I don’t think we do.”\n\nHe continued to look at me, still a little confused. “Well, how about we get to know each other? Over coffee maybe?”\n\nThe elevator chimed again and we arrived at the lobby. “How about we go learn how to do trapeze swinging instead?” I asked.\n\n\"A little unusual for a first date...\"he answered with a grin that assured me he was interested.\n\nI shrugged, trying to look casual even as I was practically screaming with joy internally. *I'd found him!* Well, somehow he had found me, but I didn't really care about the distinction right now. \"I guess I'm just a girl who knows what I want,\"I answered.\n\n----\n\nIf you liked this story, subscribe to /r/Luna_Lovewell for tons more!" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You tell Death that you will never tire of living no matter how long you live. It makes you a bet that you will and thus grants you true immortality. You've just lived through the second death of the universe and show no sign of stopping. Death is baffled." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "These old eyes of mine have probably seen everything. I've seen species grow from single cells to monstrous, frighteningly smart creatures. I've seen civilizations rise, fall, rise again. Been a part of more than a few myself. I've been witness to every conflict I can imagine, from petty personal passive-aggression to skirmishes between tribes to planetary-scale turf wars all the way up to intergalactic grudges. Conflict never really changes, as far as I can tell. I've seen love, too. Not nearly enough of it, mind.\n\nI've seen black holes form, nebulae birthing stars, solar systems spin from nonexistence into form. Cosmic dreamscapes and heavenly formations playing out in slow motion over billions, trillions of old Earth years. Can't say for sure how long I've watched the lights. I lose track of time as I float on.\n\n\"It'll never get old,\"I said once. \"The universe. Massive, unpredictable, shining beauty that she is.\"Turns out someone, somewhere was listening - and they found it funny. When my time was up, when normally I'd finally be uncoiled from this mortality, I found myself sticking around. No light at the end of the tunnel, just a voice.\n\n\"THE UNIVERSE REPEATS. IN ITS INFINITY OF INFINITIES THERE IS NOTHING TRULY NEW. EVERYTHING THAT WAS, IS, WILL BE IS ALREADY OLDER THAN CAN BE EXPRESSED. YOU BELIEVE YOU WILL NEVER TIRE? PROVE THIS TO ME.\"\n\nIt's been a few cycles since then. The universe repeats, they said. That's true. I've seen all that anything can be, every possible configuration of atoms, strings, or whatever things really are deep down. I have literally seen *everything*.\n\nIt's a good thing I can't remember any of it.\n\nSee, the human mind is an interesting piece of hardware. Thrives on novelty. If you do one single thing enough times, you'll bore eventually. Whoever keeps me around here wagered that that'd hold true. The human mind only has so much storage, though. Only so many memories fit in the lump of meat and electricity. If you fill it up, every time you see something, every time you *perceive*, you'll lose something. It's like overfilling a bathtub. You add some water, some more splashes out.\n\nImagine that to infinity. My mind, cycling through the universe's water supply. Forgetting and making new memories. Every time I see completely alien art, every time I float through a cluster of stars, every time I love and lose and love again, I thrill.\n\nIt might not be *new*. But it's new to me.\n\n----------\n\n(I'm open to constructive criticism - I'm working to improve)\n\n----------\n\nEDIT: 1 day later. The response has been completely unexpected and overwhelming. I'm not at all sure how to respond, so I hope this will do.\n\nThank you to everyone who read this and enjoyed it. I only very recently began writing fiction, and I didn't expect so many people to respond so well to my early efforts. I'm still convinced that this whole thing was a combination of beginner's luck, a compelling prompt (thank you u/Gravitiaxis), and being in the right place at the right time.\n\nI'm going to keep writing. Very little of it is going to be this well-received, I think, but I hope someone enjoys what I create in the future." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "A clang came from the engine room, followed by a string of curses. Most of the crewmembers stood far from the doors, fearfully looking in. It was their first trip out to deepspace since they had taken on a human mechanic, and they were all pretty sure that those were not good noises." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"PIECE OF TILLIAN CRAP!\"\n\n\"I thought our engine was made by the Mantareans?\"the navigator, also Mantarean, said.\n\nCaptain Arsden shrugged. \"It's been overhauled so many times on so many different planets, it probably qualifies as its own thing at this point.\"\n\n\"HUNK OF JUNK!\"The engineer's shouts continued at a consistent pace from the engine room just below the crew.\n\n\"Okay, listen,\"Ordoren, communications officer and self-proclaimed 'human handler' said, \"when he's done fixing the engines, we all need to compliment him for it.\"\n\n\"For... doing his job?\"The navigator asked.\n\n\"Yes,\"Ordoren said. \"For doing his job. Humans are skittish about these things, they're very new to the galactic scene and so very unsure about their place.\"\n\n\"I thought it was the opposite,\"Captain Arsden said, \"don't they think they're some sort of blessing to the galaxy? I don't recall the details, but they're supposedly ruthless in war or courage or storytelling or cooking... one of those things.\"\n\n\"No,\"Ordoren said, \"that's the problem. They *believed* all of those things to be true, especially those who were ambitious enough to leave their planet for the stars. So they have a bit of an... inferiority complex now that they've come across things older and more experienced than they are. Sure, the whole 'young race' thing works in their favor as they haven't ossified like the elder races where no change or original thinking is permitted, but they're hardly unique in that.\"\n\n\"So...\"the Navigator said, \"we need to praise him for doing his job, to help his ego?\"\n\n\"Morale is important to humans!\"Ordoren said. \"Just do it, okay?\"he added this hurriedly, as the shouting from below had stopped.\n\nThe human, preposterously named \"Jason\", emerged. \"Well, she's as fixed as she's going to get, outside of an actual repair facility. Which, I might add, we really should get to as soon as possible.\"\n\nThere was no real response to this. Ordoren made various gestures to the navigator.\n\n\"Good... job?\"she eventually managed.\n\n\"Yes,\"Captain Arsden said, now that he had a template to follow, \"your job was good.\"\n\n\"Aw, shucks,\"Jason said, \"you really mean that?\"\n\nOrdoren made an emphatic nodding gesture to the rest crew, a gesture which neither his people nor theirs actually possessed, so it took a few moments for them to reply.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"And you're not just saying that to make me feel better because I'm not the best at war or something?\"Jason asked.\n\n\"Why would you-\"Ordoren began.\n\n\"And that I'm not courageous and plan to hide behind this ship's thickest armor plate at even the hint that we're under fire?\"he added.\n\n\"Well-\"Ordoren tried.\n\n\"And of course that I can't tell a story worth squat, and anything I'd cook you is just as likely to poison you,\"Jason continued.\n\n\"I'm not sure what you-\"Ordoren again failed to complete his sentence.\n\n\"But it is nice of you to spare my ego.\"Jason concluded.\n\n\"How did you-\"Ordoren began again, but this time was interrupted by the navigator.\n\n\"He heard us. The engine room is *right there*.\"\n\nJason nodded. \n\n\"Oh,\"Captain Arsden said, \"*that's* what that gesture is supposed to look like!\"\n\n\"Listen,\"Jason said to Ordoren specifically, \"it's nice of you to try to make me feel welcome in your own weird way, but you don't need to. Doing the job is its own reward.\"\n\n\"You really mean it?\"Ordoren said.\n\n\"Well,\"Jason said, \"that and the money.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "A barbarian warlord, a goblin king, a mighty necromancer, and a dark elven high priestess meet for one reason... To play Suburbs and SUVs, the hottest mundane suburban family Tabletop RPG!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The card hissed softly as it was drawn from a neat stack of similarly blue-backed cards on the large wooden table, its surface battered and worn from hundreds of years of use. Though her figure was mostly hidden by the Head of Neighbourhood triptych sheet, three pairs of eyes rested eagerly on Calen as she turned the card in her hand and lifted it up, smiling wryly at its contents. \n\n\n“Cut the theatrics and read, elf,” grumbled Brond, a large and hairy man. His feet rested atop an empty chair, smaller than his own and wobbling as he shifted his weight against its seat. \n\n\n“He’s working late,” she said. \n\n\n“Again?” He replied, seemingly exhausted by the card’s message. \n\n\nLarge head toppling rearward to rest against the uppermost plank of the chair back, hair spilling over the wood, Brond shut his eyes. Calen’s smirk sustained. Though different in their distinct features, Azezus the Blight and Crog wore matching expressions, lips pulled tight and curved, showing teeth as they grinned with amusement. The game sat on the table, two tidy piles of cards and character sheets scattered. Everything behind Calen’s trifold was a mystery. \n\n\n“Again,” she repeated. \n\n\nBrond ran meaty fingers along his wrinkled forehead, massaging between the furrowed brows as he thought. After a sigh, he said, “This is the third time this week.” \n\n\n“And the young secretary card is in play,” chimed Azezus. \n\n\n“Damn the gods,” Brond cursed. “I go to his work.” \n\n\n“What a fool,” said Azezus.\n\nBrond frowned, eyes narrowing in the necromancer’s direction. “Excuse me? At least I *have* a husband.” \n\n\n“Mine’s dead--” \n\n\n“Does it make you feel impotent to know you can’t even bring him back?” Crog laughed. \n\n\n“Please, you can’t fathom the pressure of being a single mother of three little heathens,” Azezus accused. “They eat so much and the bills are piling up. Do you know how much debt Jason left me with? I thought we were doing well until he died.” His sharp slender finger drifted down his character sheet, head wagging agitatedly from side to side. \n\n\n“If only you could bring him back and shake his bones for a couple more bucks maybe your kids wouldn’t have to go to community college,” Crog continued to taunt.\n\n\n“You’re in couples counseling, your son is a prescription medication addict,” Brond countered. \n\n\nCalen watched them, peering over the edge of her text-rich sheet. The smile that had formed upon reading the drawn card had yet to diminish and had grown only tighter from fatigue. Their arguing began to overlap. Voices raised until the volume was such that even Calen herself was finding it difficult to decipher the nature of the various delivered insults so, raising a hand in the air and not saying a word, she tossed two dice onto the table. The clatter, though quiet, hushed the playful fighting.\n\n\n“You go to his work, drowsy from imbibing several glasses of rosé,” Calen said, “But he isn’t there.”\n\n\n“Damn it,” Brond muttered. His fist landed heavily against the table. “I thought better of him.” Fingers clenched and nostrils flared, he grunted, “It’s snack time, I’m famished. Send me to the bar, I’ll wallow in the realisation that I married a dirty cheater.” \n\n\n“You have a teenager and a toddler at home!” Corg interjected. \n\n\n“And you have your raging Orc of a mother-in-law, Margaret coming over in the morning but you’ve spent no time straightening your home,” Brond scoffed, “Mind your own problems.” \n\n\nSliding his character sheet toward the centre of the table with a resentful sneer, Brond’s large boots thudded against the floor. In a single graceless motion, palms leaning into the table top, he stood up and walked toward the pantry. \n\n------------------------\n\n[Part Two](https://www.reddit.com/r/EdgarAllanHobo/comments/7pi55k/suburbs_and_suvs_part_two/) Stay tuned for more. \n" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "The Villain uncovers the Hero's true identity, and targets his family. Unfortunately, the Hero's spouse is a retired villain even more powerful than the current one." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "*You should have kept your heart closer to your chest, Electra,* thought Omega Fall sadly. She wasn’t going to take any pleasure in what she was about to do, though it had to be done. \n\nOmega crouched in the shadows between slumbering suburban houses. Directly across the street sat the single-family home she’d been hunting for the past year. It was small, but well-kept. An illuminated porch stood in sharp contrast to the dark windows. It was late at night. Hopefully, the family would be asleep, and Omega could deliver them to their deaths painlessly. \n\nShe began compressing energy. A bright, crackling blue glow emerged between her outstretched hands. No Sensors went off. Omega had checked earlier, but she thought she might have made a mistake. Why would Electra not establish a defence system near her home?\n\nThe energy began to tighten. The ghostly glow washed over her face. She prepared to unleash and run.\n\nSuddenly, Electra’s front door opened, and a thin, wiry man stepped out. He was dressed in pajamas with tiny elephants. It looked like he was wearing pink nail polish on his fingers. The father, most likely. Mr. Marco Oblian. The man looked oddly familiar, but Omega didn’t consider it for another moment. She let loose her compressed blast. The energy tore through the air, a sharp missile of kinetic force aimed directly at the man, and at the house, and at the children sleeping within. Two girls. 7 and 9. \n\nMarco Oblian simply raised his hand, and the energy slammed into him but immediately disappeared. Omega’s jaw fell. She turned to run, but the man reached out and pulled on the air. Space folded; Omega tripped backwards and landed at the bottom of the porch steps. She turned around. She now knew exactly who this man was.\n\n“Nice nails,” said Omega, before he could speak. “Hot pink. Very cute.”\n\n“You’ve got some nerve attacking my home,” rumbled Marco Oblian, his voice surprisingly deep. The lower half of his face was covered in a bushy beard, his lips pressed into a straight line. There were more lines around his dark eyes and on his wide forehead than in the textbooks.\n\n“I thought you were enjoying your retirement in Tibet,” muttered Omega, standing up. She was surprisingly calm for someone facing their imminent death.\n\nHe shrugged an elephant-dappled shoulder. “Cover story.” He didn’t seem in a hurry to kill her. \n\n“So, you and Electra?” \n\nHe nodded. \n\n“Congratulations,” said Omega. “Well, better get on with it.” She closed her eyes. She hoped it wouldn’t hurt. \n\nInstead of crushing her into a human ball, Marco said, “Did you know my girls were in the house?” \n\nOmega didn’t expect that. She opened her eyes. Marco was leaning on the porch pillar, arms crossed. He had a strange look on his face that might have been pity, or sadness. It made Omega angry.\n\n“Yes,” she spat. “I knew. I was going to blast you and your daughters into the ground without blinking an eye.” She grit her teeth.\n\nMarco shook his head. “Even in my worst days, I would never consider harming children,” he murmured. There was a scar on the side of his neck that seemed to glow in the light of the porch.\n\n“Your time is long gone, old man,” said Omega proudly. “The New World is here, and we the Soldiers will deliver unto the Earth an era unmatched in glory and prosperity.”\n\n“Sounds like classic Archleague propaganda,” said Marco, sitting down on the porch steps. He winced slightly and rubbed his hip. “Have you ever considered that there might be a life for you outside of all this?” He waved his hand vaguely in the air.\n\n“My life does not belong to me. My life belongs—”\n\n“To the Archleague and all her people, yes, yes, I know,” interrupted Marco. “But are you happy? Are you at peace with your actions?”\n\nOmega had had enough. “You’re one to talk, *Magistrate*,” she hissed, stepping up to him and stabbing a finger in the air. “One of the Archleague’s most esteemed veterans, the Judge of Life and Death, is trying to *guilt me* for being a villain? We study and learn about your entire career. I’ve practically memorized your treatise on mental warfare.” She laughed harshly, the sound echoing down the empty street. “And yet, you say *I* have nerve.”\n\nTo her surprise, Marco just smiled sadly. “I guess I deserve that. I have done a lot of things I regret. I will likely continue to do more, but the difference is, now I try to do better. To be better. Whereas before, as the Magistrate, I didn’t care. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I made it seem right. Like it had to be done.” He gazed at her with those dark, forlorn eyes. “It doesn’t have to be this way, you know.”\n\nOmega felt the fight drain out of her. She tried to grasp onto it as it left, to fuel her hatred and anger against this hypocrite of a man, but she couldn’t. \n\n“Are you going to kill me or not?” she said wearily. “If you don’t now, your wife will eventually, or I’ll kill her and leave you a widower and your daughters without a mom.” She didn’t know why she was taunting him. She was tired.\n\nMarco’s eyes flashed angrily. He stood up, slowly. Omega felt the world around her shrink and compress, like reality was simply a ball of energy in Marco Oblian’s hands. The porch creaked and groaned, as the pressure on her body grew to unimaginable depths.\n\nThe door opened again, for the second time that night. A little girl in matching elephant pajamas came out. The pressure stopped immediately. Omega breathed a ragged breath.\n\n“Dad?” murmured the girl, rubbing her eyes. “What are you doing? I felt something weird…” She blinked, seeing Omega staring at her. “Who’s that?”\n\nMarco’s jaw clenched, and Omega thought somehow she was in even more danger than before. Then, suddenly, Marco deflated. He looked as tired as she felt. He turned to his daughter and picked her up.\n\n“Charlotte, this is Omega Fall, a friend of your mother’s,” said Marco, brushing some stray hair out of Charlotte’s pert face. “She was just… coming by to say hi.” \n\nOmega didn’t know how to react. She froze, like a newbie Soldier in her first bout against a Hero. \n\n“Hi,” said Charlotte shyly. She had her father’s eyes, but her mother’s nose. Omega could recognize Electra’s nose anywhere. \n\n“Hello,” whispered Omega, her heart beating incredibly fast. She felt tears prick the back of her eyes, for some stupid reason. \n\n“Omega was just leaving,” said Marco to his daughter. “I don’t think she’ll be coming back, so say goodbye.” Omega understood. She was being let go with a warning, but there won’t be another one.\n\n“Bye, Omega,” said Charlotte. She buried her face into Marco’s shoulder. “Dad, I’m cold.” \n\n“Me too, baby,” replied Marco, rubbing her back. His nearly overwhelming gaze fell on Omega, but there was no anger in it. Just a cold certainty, and a weary sadness. \n\n“Goodbye, Omega Fall,” said Marco quietly. He thrust his hand out, and swiped at the air.\n\nOmega felt herself spin around, like she was in a revolving door, and she stumbled onto a hill outside the City. From here, she could see the sleeping walls, and the metal towers that shone like candles in the night, keeping the encroaching darkness back. \n\nShe collapsed onto the soft grass, and began to cry.\n\n---\nCheck out my profile for other stories I've written! :D\n\nEdit : never thought I'd be one of these people... but thanks for the awards and upvotes everyone. It's my first time receiving such love, and I'm very grateful.\n\nEdit 2 : Chapter 2 is below. Was a little nervous to post this because I feel like there's more pressure now? Anyways, here it is :) https://old.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/httjoe/wp_the_villain_uncovers_the_heros_true_identity/fyl53cl/" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You are a hitman who has just finished their most recent job. Or, at least, thought had finished, because the second you take your eyes off your target’s corpse, you hear “Hey, not bad! I actually felt that one.”" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I had him at my mercy.\n\n\"You're here to kill me?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"I nodded slowly.\n\n\"Can I know who sent you?\"\n\n\"Recording devices are a thing. I'm sorry.\"I smiled, sadly. The ones who were ready like this? They were always the hardest. The easiest were the ones who tried to rush you, to try and kill you back. Those kills, at least, could be softened by the thought that you were defending yourself in the end.\n\n\"That's alright. I can understand being professional.\"The man sitting on his bed set aside his newspaper, let out a sigh, and then sat back. He closed his eyes, and I fired.\n\nHis body jerked once as the bullet punched through a rib and penetrated his heart.\n\nI shot him one more time, and then quickly pulled out my phone; picture taken, then sent, to confirm the kill.\n\nAs I turned to walk out, the man behind me laughed. \"Hey, not bad! I actually felt that one.\"\n\nHe coughed. \"Auuuugh, that was a good shot. Holy crap, I think you cracked a rib. Haven't done that in a *decade*.\"\n\nI gaped, pistol still in hand, as the man sat up in his bed and heaved as if trying to breathe.\n\nBody armor. He must have had body armor underneath. \n\nNo wonder they required my services.\n\nImmediately, I thumb the safety off again, level the pistol at my target, and dump the rest of the magazine into his neck and head, the suppressor degrading from such rapid abuse and I feared that the loud clack-clap of the Colt cycling would actually give me away. \n\nSpent brass clatters to the carpet floor.\n\n\"Went for the brain next. Nice.\"Coughed the corpse. Should have been a corpse.\n\nI'm are already reaching into my suit to grab a reload when the hand comes up. \"Nope. Nope, you're good. Don't worry about trying again. You pass.\"\n\n\"What... shit, did *you* hire me?\"\n\n\"No, but I don't need names.\"He spits out fragments of teeth - I must have shot it loose - onto the bedside table as his rapidly healing head closed off the bullet holes. Another spit, and a hollow point slug joins the teeth. \"But after you walk out of here, you go after them for me. I'll pay double your rates, and give you a bonus on top of that.\"\n\n\"And what's the bonus?\"\n\nThe man reached out to me, hand ready to shake. \"I'll show you how to be like me. How to heal any wound. Deal?\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "A group of friends meet up with each other every hundred years. One is immortal, one is reincarnated into a new body every time they die, one is a time traveler, one is a robot, and one is Death." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You're always the first one here,\"Correa said as he sat down in their usual booth. \n\nDeath smiled. \"People always think of me as the last one on the scene, but I'm always there.\"He waved his arms in a spooky manner and laughed. \n\nThe bell on the door of the diner tinkled and a young boy walked in. He spotted the figures in the booth and ran over. \"Surprise!\"he exclaimed. \n\n\"Orson, is that you?\"Correa leaned back to get the full view of the boy. \n\n\"Was,\"the boy said as he flopped into the booth. \"It's Tim Smith now.\"He rolled his eyes. \"My parents were horribly unimaginative when it came to naming me, but I guess that's what you get when you end up being born in Iowa.\"Tim made a face, laughing. \"But of course,\"he lightly punched Correa's arm, \"some of us aren't bound by those silly geographical boundaries, are we?\"\n\n\"You are correct,\"Correa said as the waitress poured them water. \"I did some major hopping this century. Finally got around to hanging out with Tesla. I don't know why I waited so long, it was positively life changing!\"\n\nDeath cracked his knuckles. \"Yeah, well, I broke some serious hearts. I finally decided to pick up Prince, Bowie, Debbie Reynolds, and Carrie Fisher. The afterlife is a serious party now!\"\n\n\"Sorry I'm late,\"Moss finally slid into the booth. \"Well, not really. But you know how it is when you're immortal. Time just doesn't really mean that much.\"\n\n\"What can I get you to eat?\"The waitress came back.\n\n\"Steak, very rare,\"Death said.\n\n\"Cobb salad,\"Correa replied.\n\n\"Surprise me,\"Moss winked.\n\n\"Chicken nuggets!\"Tim exclaimed. The group gave him a look. \"What?\"he said. \"I always look forward to eating this stuff at this age.\"The waitress collected the menus and left.\n\n\"So,\"Death said, \"I would like to call our meeting to order. Status reports, please.\"Moss pulled out a quill, ink bottle, and a scroll and prepared to take notes. \n\n\"Timelines are intact,\"Correa said. \"Despite all the time travellers attempting to mess with things, I've managed to keep things the same.\"He grimaced. \"Although it pains me every time I have to save Hitler.\"\n\n\"The report from the Gods is all good,\"Tim said. \"Due to some unfortunate accidents, I've checked in with them a couple times while being reborn this century, and they say that the spiritual health of the world is doing ok. Things are evening themselves out, slowly but surely.\"\n\n\"And I've been trying to keep the human race at a manageable amount,\"Death said. He passed out a couple papers to the table. \"Here's my overview of outbreaks and plagues planned for the next 100 years, along with a timeline of celebrities who will be passing.\"\n\n\"Aw,\"Correa groaned, pointing his finger at the list. \"Not her! At least let her finish the movie first!\"\n\n\"Your comments have been noted,\"Death nodded.\n\n\"Here you go,\"the waitress dropped their food at the table. \"Let me know if you need anything else!\"\n\n\"Before we dig in, I'd like to make a toast,\"Moss said, sweeping the meeting notes into his bag. He lifted his glass and everyone did the same. \"To the best group of supernatural friends I could ask for. May our next 100 years be exciting.\"\n\n\"Adventurous,\"Correa added.\n\n\"Safer,\"Tim's brow wrinkled. \"No more drowning on vacation.\"\n\n\"Successful,\"Death grinned.\n\n\"Here here,\"they chorused, and dug in to a delicious meal, savouring the pause in their tumultuous lives. \n\nEDIT: OH MY!\n\nThank you all so much for reading!! My jaw hit the floor when I opened up Reddit this morning and saw all the comments/upvotes...thank you! \n" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "FTL travel is actually possible. However, when humanity sends out our first FTL spacecraft, we discover the terrifying reason why nothing, not even light, dares go past that cosmic speed limit." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I told you all that Faster Than Light Travel was banned,\"The eye said, floating in front of the tiny ship. Mostly engine, mostly experimental drives, with a single human on board, staring at the great horizon; an immense cosmic silver eye.\n\nThe human was quiet, perhaps, it was trying to tune into a frequency for communication, or perhaps something else entirely.\n\nJvan, the Wandering Eye stared at the craft with distaste; though that was the only emotion he had ever been able to muster. Paused in time, the ship on the very breaching point, where the forever corona would streak uncontrollably past the light barrier and stretch endlessly, stuck in a momentous occasion.\n\nForever.\n\n\"I was not aware such sanctions... existed...\"The human said, trailing off. Space suit. Clothes pressed hard on his body, not a gasp of air able to slip out. Strapped to the chair to try and brace for relativistic forces.\n\nThe doctors had said the FTL drive would make him pass out.\n\nIt'd been a challenge to not pass out.\n\nNow he wished he had.\n\nJvan floated closer, the eye perfectly blocking out every inch, every fraction, degree, image of the sky in front of him, what lay past the final barrier. \"There's nothing past here, you know.\"\n\n\"Nothing?\"The astronaut said, curious. \"Nothing at all?\"\n\n\"This is the last barrier for your kind,\"Jvan said, knowingly. \"Once you break this, there's nothing left for you. The final point of which humanity's future lies suspect; after this point, there will be nothing that can end you.\"\n\n\"And you don't want that?\"The astronaut returned.\n\n\"I don't want that for you,\"Jvan returned, smoothly. \"There will be no end to your suffering. There will be no limits in the universe; you will spread your ilk across all available stars, and there will be nothing that will ever cause your governments to change. Human nature will stall. Stagnate. A thousand thousand thousand generations will pass without a flicker of a change; for everyone who disagrees will simply find their own lands. What little culture you possess will die off, and instead form into a multivariate lane of which there is no return.\"\n\n\"Isn't that the point, though? To be able to leave hostile climates and find new lands?\"The astronaut asked. \"Is that not the point of limitless exploration? Of breaking that final barrier?\"\n\n\"Tell me,\"Jvan said. \"You must love your country; you're riding a bomb powered by good wishes and nucleotides. You must trust them dearly.\"\n\n\"I do,\"The astromnaut replied.\n\n\"Would you see your governments clamber across the stars, forever. A mess of resources so obligate and vast that nothing will ever change but for the chains you have woven onto it for stability? Are you willing to accept that responsibility?\"\n\n\"I am.\"the human replied.\n\n\"Liar,\"Jvan claimed, his eye flicking across the cosmos. \"After this point, there is nothing for your kind. A slow creaking expansion; the endpoint of your sciences, the endpoint of your ideals. There is nothing left. Perhaps your individualism will blind you to the idea of community; removing the idea of synthesis in your planetary cornucopias. Perhaps your community will blind you to the individual; a great cosmic clock grinding resources out of planets to feed blind idiot masses screeching into the heavens. Nothing will destroy you except time itself.\"\n\n\"And you?\"The human asked.\n\n\"I will do as I always have,\"Jvan said. \"I will watch another blind idiot race expand until they have no meaning, and then die, as the universe does, to be reborn as another part of a meaningless cycle.\"\n\n\"How many have you turned away?\"\n\nJvan laughed. A great booming noise despite possessing no mouth and blocking out the cosmos from view.\n\n\"I have never turned a single race away from their fate. They have gone on regardless. Any race that makes it to this point will never answer to me, will never respect the places they were born to. They see the universe as dominion, as property, as if putting eyes upon it means they should expand; virulent, a pathogen upon the blind unknowing cosmos.\"\n\n\"And are there alien races out there?\"The astronaut asked.\n\n\"Distant enough that when you find them, you will no longer be human, and they will no longer be what they once were.\"Jvan answered.\n\n\"Then we shall go past you,\"The human declared.\n\n\"You will,\"Jvan said. \"And you will meet your undoing; your systematic upheavals and your self made crises, and you will fight them until you lose. Like always.\"\n\n\"But we'll fight.\"\n\n\"You'll fight,\"Jvan agreed.\n\n\"I'm breaking the light barrier right now,\"The astronaut wondered aloud. \"Aren't I?\"\n\n\"All species see this,\"Jvan concurred. \"They will see an image of me, and all things come to a reckoning of what I, the eye, have seen in all lines. The past. The Future. The Present. All dimensions, before me, after me, below me, above me.\"\n\n\"And what comes next?\"\n\nJvan flicked his pupil about.\n\n\"The place past light.\"\n\nAnd then there was only darkness; for the human brain could not handle the idea of moving post liminal velocities, and even signals are outsped by the pace of the universe itself.\n\nBut bizarrely, the astronaut could only see beautiful gleaming darkness, and the knowledge that perhaps, humanity had finally outrun the gods.\n\nand the ship exploded into light\nmarking a final new age for humanity.\n\n\n------\n\nhttps://old.reddit.com/r/Zubergoodstories/" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "“So you’ve come hero.” The most powerful dark lord in history says as he faces you across the hall. But before you take another step, he motions to the cutest little girl you’ve ever seen with tears in her eyes. “But first, please explain to my granddaughter why Grandpa needs to die.”" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The final guard fell to his knees, blood streaming from the deep wound across his torso. His last breath wheezed out as he collapsed on the ground in front of me.\n\nWithout hesitation, I stormed past him to the Black Throne where the Dark Lord was seated. He began to rise and run away, but for the first time in many years, he was forced to rely on his own physical abilities to escape. Once a strong and dangerous warlord, the man was now weak and frail, and I was able to grab him by his robes before he could take a step.\n\n\"Please, no-\"he started to say before I threw him on the ground.\n\n\"You will answer for the lives you've taken,\"I snarled, slashing at him, but he narrowly dodged me.\n\n\"You can't- Please, I am- I am old!\"he cried as he scrambled backwards, trying to escape my rage.\n\n\"You killed my best friend,\"I spat, slashing straight downwards. Again, he managed to roll out of the way at the last second and my blade kicked up sparks as it hit the ground.\n\n\"You killed my brother, just a young boy!\"The blade whisked through the air so quickly it whistled.\n\n\"You killed my parents, my family, my entire village!\"Again, I slashed downwards, and the blade shattered as it made contact with the ground. Shards flew, striking both of us, but I barely felt the cuts.\n\nFinally, he backed up into the wall of the throne room and could escape no more.\n\n\"You killed my wife,\"I hissed, placing the tip of the broken blade against his throat and pressing slightly, causing a trickle of blood to join the stream from his other wounds.\n\nI saw the resignation in his eyes.\n\n\"You've won, hero. You've overthrown me, the great Dark Lord, and begun the first steps in toppling my great kingdom. I will not ask you if you think it's worth it, if you think your vengeance is worth the centuries of chaos and anarchy that are sure to follow.\"\n\nI narrowed my eyes. \"Quit planting doubts in my mind, old man. I will grant you one last chance to speak before I take your life once and for all.\"\n\n\"I have but one request, hero.\"\n\nHe pointed behind me.\n\n\"Please explain to my granddaughter why Grandpa needs to die.\"\n\nI spun around, expecting some deceit. But for once in his life, the Dark Lord told the truth. There was no army behind me, no last minute guards to try to save his life. Instead, a little girl stood there, perhaps ten years old and with tears welling up in her eyes.\n\nImmediately my anger left me. I could not let this opportunity pass, could not afford to let this man continue to destroy the world, but with his last words, he had taken my ability to kill him in the heat of rage.\n\nI took a tentative step towards her, and she immediately stepped back.\n\n\"Easy, easy,\"I said. \"I'm not going to hurt you. See?\"I gently placed my broken sword on the ground, far enough from the Dark Lord that he could not reach it but close enough that I could kill him if he tried to run.\n\nI continued to approach her, and this time she didn't try to avoid me. I took her hand.\n\n\"Oh, child, know that this is not easy. I only wished to be a simple farmer and live my life. Your grandfather is an evil, wicked man. He killed many people dear to me. I am forced to take his life, but believe that he has taken so much more from me.\"\n\n\"Will it make you feel better?\"she asked timidly. \"Is more death going to heal your heart?\"\n\nI felt the pain deep inside me. \"No,\"I whispered hoarsely. \"No, it won't. But maybe I can save others in the future from feeling my pain.\"\n\n\"Others like me?\"\n\nI looked into her eyes. \"No. Not you. You are like me. You have been cursed with a life of pain.\"\n\nA single tear fell down her face. \"It's not fair,\"she said, beginning to cry.\n\n\"It's not,\"I said. I thought of my family, cut down in the fields. Of my brother, just a child playing with a wooden stick. Of my friend, fighting by my side trying to keep a building of refugees from being burned down.\n\nOf my wife, who had the same big brown eyes as the girl now before me.\n\nAnd my resolve strengthened.\n\n\"It was never fair to any of us.\"\n\nI turned back to the Dark Lord and approached him, scooping up my sword on the way.\n\n\"It was never fair to any of us,\"I repeated.\n\nI drove the sword into his heart and watched the life drain from his eyes.\n\n\"Excellent,\"a pleased voice said.\n\nI turned around, shocked. The little girl had walked up behind me silently, quickly, and was now standing in front of me.\n\nA cold blade stabbed through my heart.\n\nThe girl released the blade and I fell limply onto the body of her now dead grandfather. \n\n\"But-\"I gasped.\n\n\"It runs in the family,\"she said conversationally. She knelt down, pulled the dagger out of my chest, and wiped the blade on a white cloth, staining it with my blood.\n\n\"And now you've done my work for me.\"\n\n\"Your... work...\"\n\n\"Cleaning up the lines of succession, of course! That old man was going to try to hang on for at least another few decades, and you also killed my father on the way in. Really, I ought to thank you.\"\n\nShe loomed over me.\n\n\"There will always be a Dark [Lord](https://www.reddit.com/r/mpqeg/).\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You're a police officer in a horror movie, but actually competent." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The scent in the patrol car was an exotic mix of chemical cleaner, stale farts, and Mexican food. My partner, Stanley, was tapping her hand on the passenger window in time with the rhythm of the rain.\n\n\"You know...\", she said, nursing her coffee cup, \"the biggest cop killer is heart disease. All that grease is gonna take 20 years off your life.\"\n\n\"Mmmpf.\"I grunted dismissively between mouthfuls of burrito. \"Who would want 20 more years of my life? Besides, I love this place. But you can buy lunch tomorrow.\"\n\nStanley snorted. \"No one else is open at one in the morning.\"\n\n\"Yeah, exactly.\"Jamesville, Oregon, was a one-stoplight town. We were lucky the little tacqueria was open at all, and doubly lucky that they gave cops free coffee.\n\nThe radio crackled. \"210, dispatch.\"I plucked the handset off the dash. It was Wednesday night. Weekdays were usually quiet, but like any other rural Northwest town we saw our share of domestic incidents and tweaker rampages at odd hours. Often the two phenomena were correlated.\n\n\"Dispatch, 210, go ahead?\"\n\n\"We had a 911 call from Camp Explorer off 23. County dispatcher thought she heard someone speaking or breathing, but the call cut off right away. You know where that is?\"\n\n\"Yeah, my kids went there. 210, responding.\"I put the cruiser in gear and pulled out onto the road.\n\n\"Hey, uh, we might not have any reception up there. Can we get another car or two?\"Camp Explorer was nestled in a little valley, right up against the national forest, and our radios didn't always play well with the mountains. We were in a bad position. A disconnected 911 call was usually an accident, but if it wasn't, the most likely case was a medical emergency, which we weren't really prepared to handle. The nearest hospital was over an hour away. Out here, if someone was hurt we'd probably have to call in a life flight.\n\n\"Roger 210, I'll see what I can do. Over.\"\n\n\"'Preciate it, if you don't hear from us in two hours, send everybody. State, fire, EMS, national guard, Green Berets.\"\n\nStanley sighed. \"Let's hope some teenager just butt-dialed 911.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I mean, no. No cell phone service up there. Someone picked it up and dialed.\"\n\n-\n\nBy the time we'd pulled off of highway 23, the rain had stopped. The camp was only about 30 miles from town, but the last 10 of those was gravel forest service road. I drove slowly and evenly as the headlights cast the shadows of hanging fir and cedar limbs over the rising post-rain fog. More than once I caught the glowing eyes of an animal in the corner of my vision, where the headlights met the dense brush at the side of the road. My kids had stayed here a couple summers ago - even in the dark, I recognized the turnoff, and a few hundred yards later, the Camp Explorer signpost and the carved wooden totem. We pulled ahead to the empty guest parking lot.\n\n\"No one home.\"Stanley said. There was an edge of something in her voice.\n\n\"The season just ended. Employee parking's up this way.\"I nosed the car forward slowly. I thought about turning the blue lights on, but didn't. The car brushed under a hanging tree branch. It sounded like nails on a chalkboard. The employee lot was a third full. A couple decade old trucks and high-mileage SUVs, and a beater sedan. Pretty typical for broke 20-something councillors. The trucks were loaded down with tools and hardware. Must've been doing end-of-season maintenance. I shut the cruiser off, and flicked off the headlights. There was just enough ambient light through the clouds to make out the outline of the camp office. Full moon.\n\n\"Shouldn't there be lights on?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"I said. There was a lightpost between us and the camp office, but it, and all the windows, were dark. I tried to check in with dispatch, but was met with only static.\n\n\"Maybe a tree fell, took the power out?\"\n\n\"Maybe. But let's check it out. Stay close.\"We got out of the car and started towards the office, Stanley on my right, scanning the woods with her flashlight, one hand on her holstered weapon. \n\n\"This place is creeping me out.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\nA few yards from the car, I fet her squeeze my upper arm, hard. I stopped dead. Her voice was a whisper. \"The door.\"The camp office door wasn't visible from the lot, but as we rounded the corner of the building, we could see that the door had been broken inward, and what was left of it was hanging splintered from the hinges. Something very red and wet was smeared across the green paneling.\n\n\"Turn your light off.\"I hissed. \"Back to the car. I got our backs.\"We both dropped into a crouch-walk, my left hand on the back of her shoulder to keep us together while I covered the door with my weapon. We made it to the side of the cruiser, staying low, and Stanley covered me while I tried the radio again. Only static.\n\n\"What the hell do we do?\"\n\n\"We have to get out of this canyon and call in. We have to wait for back...\"A bloodcurdling shriek from somewhere out of the darkness cut me off. It was close, and very human. Stanley and I swiveled our heads around the parking lot, trying to make out something, anything, in the dark forest beyond, but even with a full moon it was like staring into a black hole. \n\n\"Ok. Change of plans. Someone's in trouble.\"\n\n\"By walking into a fucking slasher movie?\"\n\n\"Well we're not gonna stroll in and ask Freddy Krueger for ID and a breathalyzer. But yeah. We got a job to do.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You are seen as a weakling. To prove yourself to your tribe, you enter the dragon's lair that even the hardiest warriors avoid. Amused by your challenge, the dragon takes a human form and duels you with a sword. After disarming you three times it says \"come tomorrow and try again.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The sword spun from his grip, the handle slick with sweat. A dash of blood where the rough cord had chaffed his skin. It clattered to the floor, a flash of his eyes in the blade as it came to rest.\n\n\"Three,\"the beast said, watching him from the shadows. He could feel her watching every time he stepped into the caverns. Her eyes glowed like the heart of the sun. Boring into his flesh. \"Pick it up.\"\n\nHe averted his gaze and knelt, reaching for his sword. A length of beaten iron, the edge dulling over a dozen training bouts. His gaze flicked to her blade, some thin southern weapon. Its handle was fine pearl, the steel as bright as silver. Even the fuller was lined with gold.\n\nHe picked up his blade and slipped it through the loop on his belt, bowing to the dragon.\n\n\"Am I your master now?\"she asked, stepping to the edge of his lantern's light. Looking down at him, towering by a head. It felt no different from when she was a monster spanning a hundred feet or more. \"Do you assume this is training? That I am doing more than indulging your little fantasy?\"\n\n\"No,\"he said, adding no title. He still had the welt from the first time he tried. She demanded no names, no titles. She simply was.\n\n\"Yet here you are.\"She reached out a hand, suddenly right before him. Fingers slim and delicate cupped his chin, turning it this way and that. Strong enough to crack his jaw. Nails enough to rend his flesh. \"Day after day with your gutterscrap blade, standing there and being an amusement.\"\n\n\"Am I entertaining you?\"he asked, ignoring the way she tugged at his mouth. Looking at his teeth like every day before, watching them brown from the plants he scrounged off her mountain.\n\n\"Perhaps.\"The beast released him, turning back into her empty cavern. He watched her move, the way her hair trailed down her back, white as the snow outside. If he looked close, he could almost see the spines moving beneath it. \"What's wrong with you?\"\n\nHe kept his silence, watching her make a slow circuit of her cave. Tracing her hands along old, half-hidden paintings. A trap? A trick? A chance to learn if he was poison before she finally ate him?\n\n\"The Trasen. A dozen merry bands of hunters and barbarians. Thrown into the wastes up here for a hard life, a short life. One that cannot tolerate weakness.\"He heard the scraping of claws on stone, felt the heat of the sparks even across the entire cave. But he only saw her eyes. \"They sent you here to die, didn't they? So what's wrong with you?\"\n\nHe put felt the hilt of his blade. The cord there, rough and worn from the ages. His mother's. Woven by his father. The only thing of theirs' he was allowed.\n\n\"Some years ago, my family ruled the Trasen,\"he started, wondering how much of their politics she knew. She called them barbarians, she might not even realize they had them. \"Now they...don't.\"\n\n\"A lost prince.\"The beast made a noise close to a purr, her eyes gleaming wickedly. \"Typical.\"\n\n\"My sister was to inherit,\"he clarified. He felt it important. He wasn't sure why. \"They...this new council, they spared my life.\"A dozen eyes stared down at him that day. Duller than hers. Less majestic, less striking. He remembered them still. \"I was...young. Killing me was seen as an overstep. Unnecessary.\"\n\n\"So they merely dumped you on the outskirts and left you to rot.\"The beast laughed. High and musical. Low as a rolling storm. Backed by scales sweeping across the floor. \"I've watched your kind since you lived in caves like mine. Little has changed.\"\n\n\"It was suggested I come here,\"he said, ignoring just how old that would make her. \"To prove my worth...to earn glory.\"\n\n\"To die.\"\n\nThe word echoed. As much in his mind and in the cave.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nThe beast approached. Slowly. Her form rippling with each step. No longer hiding what she was. Neither the woman nor the towering monolith he'd first encountered.\n\nSomething between. Unknowably greater than the former. Unspeakably lesser than the latter.\n\n\"This continent bears your people's name. Do you know why?\"She stopped in front of him. It was a challenge not to kneel, not to beg. For what, he didn't know. \"They ruled it once. Founded that kingdom that squats in the center of it all. It was stolen from you. From your people, forced into the hellish snow.\"\n\nHer hand pressed against the side of his head, claws dragging along his skin.\n\n\"To linger in this place,\"she whispered, hot and acrid. \"To wither to nothing. To die.\n\n\"You ruled,\"he said. And how could this creature be anything but a ruler. Every motion bleeding power, showing grace, embodying strength. She had been born to conquer worlds.\n\nHe had been born to nothing. Anything so easily taken was worthless.\n\n\"And your chance was stolen.\"She took his hands in hers. \"Together,\"she said, guiding one to hilt of his sword, pulling it from its loop. \"We shall claim everything that is owed to us.\"\n\nShe guided the sword up and up until she could rub her cheek against it. As if the blade itself were dear. It did not touch skin. Only scales as white as ice. As bone.\n\n\"Fight with your gutterscrap. Take it as your weakness. Mold it like this cheap iron. Force out its strength.\"She drove her hand onto the blade, her scales parting like soft leather, the blood flowing bright crimson, hot enough to smoke. \"For every drop you spill, you'll gain another in return. Together, we will find strength.\"\n\n\"You seek to make us kings.\"It was not a question. There could be no questioning the image in his mind. Cities with their roofs scorched. Rulers thrown over their own walls. Thrones broken as none was grand enough to suit him.\n\n\"Nothing so petty as kings, boy.\"She smiled, her teeth as sharp and cold as the stars themselves, forcing the blood into his throat. \"We shall be a dragon.\"\n\n\\---\n\n**Wasn't expecting this to blow up like it did, but since so many people are asking, I figured I'd try my hand at a** [**Part 2.**](https://www.reddit.com/r/FiresofFordregha/comments/k4v71e/ambition_part_2/) **Thank you all for the interest!**\n\n**Now with a** [**Part 3.**](https://www.reddit.com/r/FiresofFordregha/comments/k5jui2/ambition_part_3/)\n\n[https://www.reddit.com/r/FiresofFordregha/](https://www.reddit.com/r/FiresofFordregha/)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Bob Ross was actually a serial killer that painted where he buried his victims. His paintings are becoming suspicious and the body count is rising." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The latest episode was starting. Mark sat at the television, watching, waiting.\n\nBob came on screen, like he always did. The smile he gave the world once seemed carefree and kindly to him, but Mark could now only see the inner smugness in his teeth, the way his eyes shifted around in their sockets, the glee of somebody getting away with murder.\n\nIt had occurred to Mark that he may have gone mad. But therapy could wait. He was onto something. He knew it.\n\n“Hello, and welcome to another episode of The Joy of Painting. Now today we're going to try something a little different, but don't worry -”\n\nMark sneered to himself at the line, eyes darting over to the walls of his home. They were covered in photographs, pictures from the show, some from behind the scenes. Police reports were stacked on his desk, missing person reports to be exact. Hundreds of interviews from terrified parents and concerned spouses, looking for their family and friends, desperately hoping for any update, unaware that they would never see them again.\n\nBecause of *Him*.\n\nBob was applying the first few strokes to the canvas, but Mark was lost in thought, lost in his hatred for the smug murderer on screen. The nice-guy persona didn't faze him a bit nowadays.\n\nHe had initially made the connection by accident. A photograph of the crime scene was featured in the daily paper, and Mark had the feeling he'd seen it before. And just like that, a side-by-side comparison made it obvious. Bob had painted the scene of the crime, down to the individual trees.\n\nAnd he'd painted it on television. On television, in front of hundreds of thousands of viewers.\n\nHe turned his attention back to the screen. Bob was working on the foreground, carefully applying a shade of dark green. Any beauty the image might have once held was gone. Instead, a single question remained.\n\nWho was buried there?\n\nMark didn't realize it until the episode was almost done. Bob was meticulously placing the branches on a single tree in the background, a strange tree that was split down the middle.\n\nWith a start, Mark got to his feet and ran to the window, looking out at his backyard.\n\nAnd in his backyard was a single tree, split down the middle.\n\nBob's voice spoke from the television in the living room:\n\n“Well, that's it for this episode. I made this painting for a dear friend that I haven't seen in a while. It's gonna be so great to give it to him in person.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Every intelligent, skilled or rich human has been evacuated from the Earth to avoid the alien invasion. This leaves the dregs, criminals and the poor behind on Earth to fend for themselves. Centuries later, the other return to \"liberate\"Earth only to find that they have won and prospered." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "We boarded ships in secret, as soon as the preliminary readings were confirmed. Boarded ships and fled, those of us with enough brains, money, or talent to be deemed \"worthy\"of survival. Generals, world leaders, captains of industry, and even some that might have deserved to live even while we abandoned our brothers and sisters.\n\n250 years later, we boarded ships in a grand ceremony, as soon as the preliminary readings were confirmed. Earth was still habitable, and we immediately began plans to reclaim our homeworld. Politicians promised reclamation and reunification, while the descendants of the wealthy saw an opportunity for a new world's work of markets. We bickered and debated about the strategy, but there was never any doubt as to the goal. \n\nThe Navy arrived in orbit on the dark side of the moon, a clever maneuver conceived of and executed to perfection by the great great grandson of the man who had lead the Righteous Flight, as it came to be called. Outposts and bases were established, and long-range monitoring equipment scanned for millions of miles around us, searching for the alien occupiers that were waiting for us. When the first scans returned negative, the Admiral was incredulous, and the first assumption was that the aliens had developed some new cloaking technology. Paranoia ran rampant when word of this theory leaked, but after a week, nothing happened. We established ground to space defenses on the surface of the moon, and more than a few of us held the gaze of the blue ball that was simultaneously unrecognizable and intimately known to us. The Admiral decided that we had to lure our enemy out before we could fight them. The fleet was divided into five portions and deployed in a star around the Earth, so that every portion of the fleet would be able to direct fire and cover another portion if and when the aliens took the bait. \n\nThe Admiral's gambit worked, and the alien ships revealed themselves as soon as the first group came within two hundred thousand miles of the moon. We did not delay in our mission, and there was no hesitation as three groups converged and destroyed the aliens in a hail of superheated slag and light. Accounts of the size of the original invasion fleet were sketchy and incomplete, but the small size of the fleet left some of us with hope that a few survivors might have lived on through the invasion. I had no such illusions. The greatest minds on the Earth had no answers for the alien menace. What hope did the criminals, the ordinary, and the poverty-stricken have?\n\nI volunteered my battalion for the first wave, which targeted the largest concentration of signal activity on the surface of the planet. The ruins of New York seemed to be the epicenter of the alien occupiers. The Admiral debated with his commanders whether to precede the invasion with a bombardment, but decided against it.\n\nI was the first human to touch the surface of the Earth in over 200 years, but no sooner could I enjoy the moment of history than we came under fire from the ruins, miles away. Artillery crashed around us, exploding in purple and blue hazes that shattered masks and shredded our armor. Hundreds of humanity's finest were cut down in the first minute. Hulking figures in suits that resembled shadows as much as warriors followed the first artillery wave, slamming into us with weapons that outstripped our own. Decades of weapons research, and billions of dollars of material proved to be as useful as tissue paper against their superior weapons. Even when they fell, they killed yet more of us, as their suits turned into bombs that wiped out entire platoons, as well as killing the operators, if the suits even had any.\n\nBut we had one advantage: the Fleet. The Admiral personally ordered fighter squadrons eighteen through forty nine to deploy and descend to the surface to provide support. On the ground, we made up for what we lacked in technology with determination and sacrifice. It took eighteen soldiers to kill just one of the hulking monstrosities that opposed us, but every man and woman of our team knew it was better to die on Earth than retreat home and live in shame. The second wave of artillery targeted the dropships, and hundreds were slaughtered before they could even feel Earth beneath their feet. \n\nThen the fighters arrived, and met the artillery with screaming explosives and sub-atomic weaponry. We underestimated the anti-air defenses, however, and no sooner could the first squadron drop their payload than the first streaks of red light shot into the sky, slicing through steel and plastic plates that had proved invulnerable to conventional defenses. The second wave suffered casualty rates of 60%. The third wave, 80%. Then the fourth wave was shattered against a veritable wall of light, with only two bombers able to drop their payload before they were cut down. \n\nThe artillery stopped at least, thank God. \n\nBut just as the battalion started moving toward the city, a piercing horn cut through the cries of the wounded and the moans of the dying. A building, which towered over the city center, lit up in a blue haze. Someone screamed for us to scatter, but it wasn't aimed at us. \n\nThe HMS Reclamation was destroyed six seconds later. Her crew, which number 14,231, were all wiped out in an instant, their remains vaporized and any hope for survivors removed from reality. The port side barracks of the Admiral's flagship, the USS Homeland, avoided the beam by eight inches. There was no question of bombardment then. Every group on this side of the Earth turned their Slug guns towards the surface and calibrated the city ahead of us. \n\nLike shooting stars, superheated slag traveled across the sky and descended toward the city at what looked like a leisurely pace. The tower began to glow again just as the first shots collided. I had seen explosions, to be sure. I had watched tapes of Hiroshima, of weapons more powerful than that, and I had been present for the demonstration of the first slag cannons. But nothing compared to the blue circle that washed over the city when the tower exploded, wiping out buildings and life alike in its path. It was so bright, the 24 soldiers nearest to the city limits went blind on the spot, and required extensive eye surgery just to make out shapes again. \n\n\"Colonel,\"The Admiral spoke up. \"Confirm status.\"\n\nI put a hand to my throat, preparing to activate the transmitter. Then I heard groaning that froze my hand, and my heart. A moan from a nearby suit. One of theirs. \n\n\"Standby, sir,\"I said. \n\nThe suit sat in the bottom of a crater, with dirty water covering one of the legs. I slid down and listened, to be sure that I wasn't hallucinating.\n\n\"Uugh,\"the suit said. \n\nI reached down and pulled at the helmet, but it didn't come loose. I was afraid of what I might find, terrified even, but I had to be certain. I grabbed a rock from nearby, and smashed at the faceplate like a caveman. Finally, I heard something break, and the helm felt moveable in my hands. \n\n\"Colonel,\"the Admiral demanded. \"Status report.\"\n\nI strained and pulled at the helmet, and finally yanked it off, sending it into a puddle on the other side of the crater. \n\nIt was a boy. Dirty hair and brown eyes, with freckles on his nose.\n\n\"Oh God,\"I said. \n\n\"Colonel?\"the Admiral responded. \"What did you find?\"\n\nI pulled my own helmet off, and the boy's eyes went wide. \n\n\"Oh no,\"he said. \"No, no, no.\"\n\n\"Colonel!\"\n\n\"You're human,\"I said to the boy. Then I turned to the sky, and I yelled it through tears, choking on the words and struggling to force them out.\n\n\"They're human!\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You're an alien studying humans. You keep hearing about this \"Golden Rule\"that every human is aware of. You're convinced it's a source of human power but nobody will actually tell you what it is, assuming you already know it, and you're too afraid of blowing your cover to come out and ask." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I took my seat in the dining area. Behind me, the golden arches could be seen, symbolizing a gathering point for humans to acquire food for low cost. The \"food\"was mainly sodium and glucose, appealing to the humans on a primitive level. The ones responsible for this franchise were truly genius. The humans only want salt and sugar, both which could be acquired at a low cost. These people could charge whatever they wanted and people would buy it. Truly brilliant.\n\nFor what must have been the tenth time that day, a human approached the counter, bellowing about some kind of sauce that had recently gained popularity from a television show. The human behind the counter wore a nametag with \"Tiffany\"printed on it. She seemed exhausted. The male human was being rude, very rude.\n\nI never understood why humans were so cruel to each other. It is not the female's fault that they didn't have what the male wanted. She was not responsible for supply. She appeared young, barely an adolescent. Yet the male acted as if she intended to upset him.\n\nAnother male appeared from a room behind the counter. He wore a tie. \"Manager\"was printed on his nametag. He immediately berated the poor female.\n\n\"Tiffany\", he sighed. \"Why didn't you check the stock last night?\"\n\n\"I didn't work last night\", she replied, visibly upset.\n\nThe manager disregarded her, apologizing to the man. The first male was no more satisfied with the manager than we was with the female, Tiffany. Suddenly, the first male threw his food on the floor, stomping on it. He left, ignorant to the mess he had created. Or maybe he did not care. It was difficult to tell with humans.\n\n\"Clean that up\", the manager demanded, retreating back to the room he had appeared from. Tiffany, now beginning to cry, nodded her head.\n\nShe walked around the counter, picking up the larger chunks of food and putting them into the trash container beside her. Protocol dictates that I not interfere with human interactions. However, nobody told me that I would witness such casual cruelty.\n\nI had seen enough. I stood up and approached the poor woman. I began to gather up the food with her as well, placing it in the trash container without a word. I feared my difficulties with the human dialect would betray me.\n\nInitially, Tiffany just stared at me. I worried I had done something wrong. Or blown my cover. She wiped her eyes and departed, returning shortly after with a human sanitation device. A moop, perhaps?\n\nThe floor was cleaned shortly after. I stood in front of her, not sure how to proceed. I began to turn, intending to leave before I did any more damage to my operation.\n\n\"Wait\", she said. I turned back, only to find her arms locked around me.\n\nIncredible. I had seen human displays of affection. Hugging, holding hands, even kissing. But I had never participated in these acts. Another agent said he had discovered whole archives of bizarre (and revolting) displays of human affection. A web domain called \"PronHub\".\n\nTiffany released me, wiping her eyes. \"Thank you\", she said.\n\n\"You are welcome\", I replied. A standard human response.\n\n\"Nobody has ever offered to help me\", she said. \"I wish everyone would just treat each other the way they would like to be treated.\"\n\nShe left, walking back around the counter.\n\n\"After all\", she said. \"That's the Golden Rule.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You are God. You have just discovered that the world you thought you had destroyed in a flood still exists. You've never heard of this 'Jesus' dude, or anything else since the flood. You really just thought you'd canned the thing and walked away." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Wait... You did WHAT?\"\nI stood alone, mouth agape and bewildered, as I spoke through the cosmos, communicating with my rival.\n\n\"Well, you threw it out! It's not like you were gonna use it again.\"Satan replied, defiant as per fucking usual. \"I really liked the project we were working on with Earth, man! Oh, but you had to get all butthurt because the dominant species decided to disobey your rules - which are really dumb, by the way! But yeah, I wanted to see if those 'humans' could find a way out of the holy judgemental pickle you put 'em into!\"\n\nI can't believe this guy. He really takes the \"One man's trash\"metaphor to a whole new level. But whatever, I guess he made a fair point.\n\"Well... How'd they do it?\"I asked him.\n\nSatan laughed - more of a giggle really. \"Okay, so get this. A lot of them still really liked you, so what I did was...\"he took a minute to chuckle, \"I... I pretended to be you, and told one guy to build a boat. His name was Neil... or something like that. So then I thought 'Well, go big or go home' so I told him to put two of EVERY SPECIES on that sonofabitch.\"\n\nI struggled to hide a laugh. \"You asshole! How far did he get before that went to hel- I mean, went to shit?\"\n\n\"So get this!\"He could barely contain himself. \"This Nigel dude actually did it! The absolute madman somehow made a gigantic boat and rounded up a good amount of animals, and they somehow survived your little flood!\"\n\n\"Somehow...\"I pondered.\n\nOh wait. \"You helped him, didn't you?\"\n\n\"I mean of course! He sure as shit couldn't have done it himself.\"\n\n\"Alright, so humanity and the animals survived. What happened next?\"\n\n\"Well, that's when it went off the rails, my man. So there was some terrifying lizard lady, let's call her Mary. I put her there to get a laugh, but BOY OH BOY did that backfire. My fault for making her parthenogenic really. So she reproduces, without a male mate of course, and gives birth to some guy. Everyone freaks the hell out because they think I'm - or that you're the dad. His name was Jesus, I'm pretty sure.\"\n\n\"Yeah, that's how I found out about your little scheme, dude. Apparently he made an impact on these humans?\"\n\n\"Well, yeah. I'll be honest, I had a lot of fun with this guy. So I was thinking 'Hey, why don't we give the son of an asexual lizard beast some wizard powers? That would be badass!' And I did. Long story short, he fell in love with me and he was killed pretty brutally. But then I brought him back a couple days later and people lost their damn minds!\"\n\nWell, I was hooked. \"And then what? I need more information!\"\n\nHe laughed even more as he presented this story to me. \"Well, that's when it all goes to shit...\"\n\nSatan regaled to me the history of my canned project. He spoke of politics, idiots, crusades, holy wars, slavery, and everything in between. It felt like hours for me, and you know what they say about a million years feeling like a minute for me.\n\n\"...And now it's a pretty bleak situation. Firefly is still canceled, that one guy from The Apprentice leads America now, and people are still fighting over who is the real god.\"\n\nI thought to myself for a long time. I was silent in my contemplation, and chose my next words very carefully.\n\n\"Satan?\"I asked.\n\n\"Yeah God?\"\n\n\"I've already tried water on these idiots. When you get bored of them, try using fire this time around.\"\n\nEDIT: Thank you for the gold!!!!" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You died of a stress-induced aneurysm in the middle of your debate class. Now, at the gates of Valhalla, the Norse gods are arguing over whether or not it counted as a battle. Good thing you're very passionate about debating." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The lad died of speaking too hard!\"Thor bellowed, Mjollnir still pointed towards the young man standing before them. \"I don't care what Loki says, he's **not** getting into Valhalla!\"\n\n\"Brother, please, *you'll hurt my feelings*,\"Loki smirked with sarcasm so sharp it could double as one of his daggers. \"You should know that not all battles are fought with muscles.\"\n\n\"I must agree with Lord Loki, Lord Thor,\"the young man pitched in. \"The tongue is a weapon more powerful-\"\n\n\"I'll show you power,\"Thor growled.\n\n\"Brother,\"Loki stepped in, \"must you *really*\\-\"\n\n\"Enough! Both of you!\"another voice boomed as the doors of the Great Hall of Valhalla swung open, revealing Odin, the All-Father in all his glory. \"Blast, if I have to listen to you bicker any longer I'll go feed myself to Fenrir voluntarily.\"\n\nThe two sons exchanged rather nasty looks but stepped aside for their father.\n\n\"So,\"Odin said as he sized the young man up and down, \"you're to enter Valhalla?\"\n\n\"It is what I have been told, All-Father,\"the man said and bowed his head. Despite not being of any faith - certainly not of the Norse kind - he saw it fit to show proper respect to the gods he considered myths mere hours ago when he still drew breath.\n\n\"And you died in battle?\"Odin asked.\n\n\"A debate.\"\n\nOdin tilted his head curiously.\n\n\"You see,\"the man continued, \"I was in a rather heated exchange of ideas in my debate class and, well, I suppose some vein in my brain just... gave out. One second I was presenting my argument, the other...\"he said and waved his hand.\n\n\"A *battle of wits*, father! Certainly it is worthy-\"Loki started but Odin shushed him with a mere motion of his hand.\n\nAnother man walked from the hall and Odin turned to him.\n\n\"Týr - what would your wisdom advise?\"\n\n\"If he arrived here, the Norns dictated so. They do not make mistakes,\"Týr calmly stated.\n\n\"Hel take me if they don't!\"Thor protested. \"They have an agenda and you know it, the lot of you - you most of all, Father! I won't let *them* dictate who's worthy!\"\n\n\"I must say,\"the young man suddenly said, \"I share Lord Thor's sentiment. I am not of your faith and yet here I stand - could I truly be worthy? Is it fate or is it a *trial*, perhaps? Maybe this is not about me - perhaps the Norns themselves are testing you, toying with you.\"\n\nThe assorted gods gave the man various looks.\n\n\"*Now* he speaks some sense!\"Thor nodded.\n\n\"Young man,\"Odin said, \"do you not wish to enter Valhalla? Why would you agree with Thor, who wishes to deny you entry?\"\n\n\"Valhalla, Heaven, Hell, Tartarus... who cares?\"the man smiled widely. \"I'm just a human. I doubt I can decide where I go, but this? *This*?!\"he said and excitedly pointed towards the gods, \"I get to not just watch but *participate* in a debate of gods! The greatest debate I could *ever* be a part of! No matter where I go after this, the memory of this exchange of ideas will forever remain with me. It's its own reward.\"\n\nOdin turned back to Týr who gave him a subtle, sly smile.\n\n\"So you care not for the outcome of this... *battle of wits*, only for the battle itself?\"\n\n\"Of course!\"the man nodded happily. \"I have no preconceived goal in sight - one must be willing to change their stance if a debate is to be had; if you sternly refuse to change your standpoint, you are not debating - you are arguing, desperately clinging to your original idea. There's no fun in that. No matter the outcome, I wish to enjoy it. Win or lose, it is still... *glorious*! \"\n\nLoki smiled widely, clearly pleased. Týr nodded contently. Even Thor's frown softened somewhat. Odin stepped towards the man and patted him on the shoulder.\n\n\"I believe you'll fit right in, lad,\"he smiled." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Years ago, you were a feared warrior, until a witch cast a spell on you. \"May you never hurt or kill anyone by blade, word or through any other means.\"Now, you are the world's greatest healer. You just open your clients and do random stuff. After all, you cannot possibly hurt them!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Five second rule, right?”\n\n \n\nThe poor nun heaved, politely placing a white gloved hand across her lips, trying to dull that sick feeling in her stomach as the warrior sheepishly scooped the elf’s heart from the floor, dropping it back into the archers chest, giving it a small pat. After the delicate patting, the heart returned to its previous beating, a sight that caused the nun to drop both her hand and jaw.\n\n \n\n“Impossible, by the holy gods. Be you the devil? An unholy beast drawn to this realm?”\n\n \n\nThe nun had already reached for a small rosery, backing away from the warrior. No human could possess such an ability, even the most talented healers could not kick-start a heart. Once the heart stopped beating, so did their life essence. At least that’s what the nun had previously thought. The warrior reached for his mug of ale, pouring the chilled liquid down his throat before spitting onto the wound.\n\n \n\n“Ay, I take offence with that. The devil? I’m just a cursed man. Now quit your blathering and bring me a cloth or something, the next part gets awfully messy.”\n\n \n\nThe warrior stretched his arms forward, cracking his joints. This was always his favorite part of any operation. Looming over the wounded elf, he took a fighting pose. A flurry of strikes followed as the warrior gave the elf one mighty hell of a beat down. The nun was a screaming mess, pleading with the man to stop the assault. She latched onto his arm, eventually pulling him from the body, only to find the chest of the elf perfectly closed. It was as if the warrior had punched their ribcage back together and mended the flesh shut.\n\n“Impossible. That is impossible. I refuse to believe it.”\n\n \n\n“Believe it, now where’s that cloth?”\n\n \n\nThe warrior’s hands were coated in a thick crimson coating of blood. He made a few failed attempts to flick the blood from his fingers, but that only caused it to further stain his skin.\n\n \n\n“A cloth, come on.”\n\n \n\nThe nun nodded, finding a grey cloth, an old rag that the man could wipe his hands with. The warrior did just that, wiping his hands clean or as clean as one could with a dried cloth. Once his hands were clean, he spun the cloth into a small makeshift whip, whacking the elf on the forehead.\n\n \n\n“Rise and shine pointy, you owe me a gold coin.”\n\n \n\nThe warrior chuckled, a grin on his lips. A grin that failed when he noticed the nun giving him a disapproving gaze, before her hands crossed over her chest.\n\n \n\n“A gold coin? Did you forget you work for a holy order? We don’t charge for healing. I suggest you learn that if you wish to keep your free housing.”\n\n“Ah right, forgot you were there. Bloody hell, I should have been a freelancer.”\n\n \n\n“They would hang you from the gallows if you displayed those abilities in public. I’m still not convinced you aren’t a demon.”\n\n \n\n“Keep saying that and I might turn into one you rude old bag.”\n\n \n\nThe elf’s grumbling silenced the bickering. They were slow to sit up, before the panic set in, hands quickly scanning their body for wounds. It was always the same. The person would revert to that moment before they nearly died, the panic setting in until they realized they were safe.\n“Heh, welcome back. I’m John your lovely healer tonight, and the old hag next to me is Margaret. Try not to move, someone will be here to watch you.”\n\n \n\n“Th-thank you.” The elf spluttered before falling back onto their back, sucking in a few deep breaths.\n\n \n\nJohn went to head back to his room, only for Margaret to stop him. Her hands tugging the edges of her rosary, trailing the beads over slowly, pondering her words.\n\n \n\n“I wouldn’t be much of a holy woman if I didn’t at least apologize for my words earlier. If you are truly a cursed man, I assure you I will do my best to help find a cure.”\n\n \n\nJohn stared at Margaret, shaking his head. Sure, he had wanted to strangle that witch when he first found out about the curse. In fact, he did exactly that, strangling her only to find out he had cured her stiff neck. It was a hit to his ego. The elite warrior turned useless healer. That was what he had thought at first. But now he quite liked the role, he wasn’t a young reckless warrior anymore. He was a little long in the tooth, far too old to be out fighting monsters. A retirement like this suited him nicely.\n\n \n\n“I appreciate the sentiment, but I quite enjoy this. The church provides some nice booze and the company. Well, the company is bearable.”\n\n \n\nOffering Margaret a nod, he slipped past her, entering his room.\n\n \n \n \n\n(If you enjoyed this feel free to check out my subreddit /r/Sadnesslaughs where I'll be posting more of my writing.)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Making a deal with a demon requires a soul. Usually this is a very bad idea, but you got a crazy idea. Earlier you traded your lunch money to the school bully in exchange for a piece of paper that says you own his soul. You're about to find out if demons consider this a valid contract." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Hmm,\"the demon accountant said, carefully holding the 'contract' between two long claws as he read it carefully. \"There is a lot of passionate care expressed here. A lot of real effort. You've got promise, kid. How much did you have to give him for him to sign?\"\n\n\"$1.25,\"I said nervously. \"and a pudding cup.\"\n\n\"Kid's a natural,\"the nearby succubus said as she continued to work through the pile of coconuts, cracking each between her thighs.\n\nAbove the demon, a glittering cylinder stood in a thin shaft of light. \"What are you doing?\"I asked the succubus.\n\n\"Showing you how to use these, silly,\"she said, grabbing a half coconut from the pile and holding it to the shaft. \"You can use 'em without this contraption though, just really hard. Haha.\"\n\nShe pulled at the contract I had made my bully sign and a golden strand of what looked like cotton candy spooled out as it unraveled and she guided it into the cylinder, which began to glow even brighter.\n\n\"So, it worked? I can get my wish now for a million dollars?\"\n\n\"Sure,\"the accountant said. \"What's your bank's routing number?\"\n\n\"Or,\"the succubus interrupted, \"you could think long term. You've got a gift, kid. Ever think of going pro?\"\n\nAnd that's how I got my start as the first human soul contractor.\n\n\\---\n\nThanks for reading.\n\nIf you liked this, check out /r/surinical to see more of my prompt responses and other writing." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write a horror story in the format of a Wikipedia article." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "#Vitus Manuscript\n\n (!) This article has multiple issues. Please help improve it or discuss these issues on the talk page. \n (Learn how and when to remove these template messages)\n\nThe **Vitus Manuscript** (also known as **The Bernburg Manuscript**, **St. Vitus' Benediction**, and **St. Vitus' Curse**) is a short [codex](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Codex) purported^[by ^whom?] to contain the writings of third-century Christian martyr [Vitus](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vitus), though several aspects of Vitus' story complicate this claim. Legends surrounding the document ascribe it [supernatural](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Supernatural) powers, though such claims are unsubstantiated. \n\n###Description\n\nThe manuscript featured eleven pages covered in dense text which was written in a shaky hand^[Citation ^needed] and a language which appears to be a linguistic antecedent to [Basque](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Basque_language) (the only such language known^[1] ). Following these pages is sufficient binding for a hundred more, but records indicate that these pages were torn out. Whether or not they were ever written on is unknown.\n\nSome^[who?] who have come into contact with the manuscript throughout history described its pages as seeming different from normal parchment. Folklore surrounding the document also claims that it is written in human blood^[2] , though no photographic evidence suggests this. While the document was purported to date back to the late 200s, no scientific confirmation of its age was ever completed.\n\nPhotographic documentation of eight of the eleven pages exists, but the reproduction of the pages is blocked by edict of the [German Copyright Authority](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Copyright_law_of_Germany).^[1] \n\n###History\n\nReferences to the manuscript dating back to the tenth century can be found in church records of the Holy Roman Empire, often in the margins of ledgers documenting the holdings of monastic libraries^[3]. The manuscript was rediscovered in the modern era in 1927 during the attempted renovation of a Renaissance castle^[4] in [Bernburg](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bernburg), Germany. Photographs taken by German archivists are the only extant documentation of the manuscript, which was lost to a library fire during [World War II](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_War_II). ^[4]\n\nThe manuscript's folkloric history is more colorful^[Subjective] . The associated myths as documented by an anonymous 11th-century monastic librarian are the only known folklore about St. Vitus aside from his martyrdom. Quoting his predecessor in the position, the monk writes:\n\n>The story [of the book] is thus... in his twelfth year, Vitus was taken by the spirit of God, and after three days of... fever and writhing, awoke and rushed into the forest. Though he could not read or write, he returned [the next day] with a volume which none could read; and when Vitus read from it, the spirit of God came over all who heard it as well.^[5][Translated]\n\nThe document's brevity opened it up to swift reproduction by monks and scholars, who passed it around as something of an academic curiosity^[citation ^needed]. Other writings^[which?] connect the manuscript and reproductions of its contents to a variety of outbreaks of mass hysteria throughout Europe from the 7th to 17th centuries. The outbreaks, collectively known as [Dancing Mania](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dancing_mania) and, perhaps not coincidentally^[weasel ^words] , \"St. Vitus' Dance\", are said to have been incited by a successful 'reading' of the manuscript. One such outbreak is known to have occurred in Bernburg in the 1020s.^[6]\n\nOne account by a 12th-century scholar, though uncorroborated by other primary sources, describes an outbreak that occurred in the town of Aachen:\n\n>A young man possessed of great animal passion entered the monastery by force... and purloined a copy of [the Vitus Manuscript], with which he returned home to Aachen. Once there he read from the book in snarling tones, and those who heard him were sore afraid... in time, those who had heard [the boy] read began to gyrate and hop about madly, as if in time with music none could hear... the dancing spread throughout the town, and soon all who could walk in Aachen were in the streets, dancing while crops withered in the fields. Some began to collapse. Within one week the residents of Aachen were dead to a man. Their corpses were discovered by a travelling merchant, who brought the news to the surrounding towns, whereby I heard it.^[7][Translated]\n\nEventually the original manuscript was placed in a giftschrank with other works deemed dangerous. It lingered in sequestration for centuries before being acquired along with the rest of Bernburg's monastic library to furnish the town's Renaissance castle.\n\n[Adolf Hitler](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adolf_Hitler) is said^[by ^whom?] to have taken a personal interest in the manuscript at one time, and there is some fragmentary evidence^[8] in surviving library documents that it was examined by Nazi scientists working at the [Bernburg Euthanasia Centre](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bernburg_Euthanasia_Centre) before its destruction.\n\n###Evidence of Neurological Effects\n\n (!) This section was removed for consisting primarily of Original Research.\n Help improve this article by finding proper primary and secondary sources.\n\n###See Also\n\n - [Sydenham's Chorea](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sydenham%27s_chorea)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Due to a rare brain condition you've spent your entire life hallucinating the presence of a six foot tall penguin. You're on a date one day when you're asked \"So what's the deal with the penguin?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So what's the deal with the penguin?\"She asked. I stared, dumbfounded. She could see him? Perhaps I'm not as crazy as I thought I was.\n\nThe penguin was easily brushed off as an imaginary friend during childhood. Then, during my teenage years I learnt to hide this being away from conscious thought, only disturbing me in the quiet moments. I was told it was just a hallucination, that my brain conjours a penguin into my mind to fill gaps in my senses, to explain stuff I cannot process. But why a penguin? I wasn't much of an animal lover, and I remember seeing it before I could even understand what a penguin was.\n\nNobody else saw the penguin, so he must not exist. That was my reasoning before... I had always been distracted by him, but I usually managed to get on with life ignoring it.\n\nI met Tina through a friend of a friend, and they said we'd get along great with each other. When I sat down opposite her, it became clear why she was \"the one\". Lovely, luscious lengthy locks of flowing fuschia hair, tied up with a pale blue ribbon to keep it out of those shining, smiling eyes. She wore a pink dress with a mint green cardigain, but what made her stand out was the fact she was staring right at my penguin.\n\n\"So what's the deal with the penguin? It's huge, do you work at a zoo or something? I didn't know penguins could get that big! Why did you bring it with you?\"She seemed genuinely curious, her tinkling voice earnest.\n\nIt took me a few moments to get over my shock.\n\n\"You can see it too? I was always told it was a hallucination.\"\n\nTina blinked a few times, cocked her head, then looked at me with a slight smile.\n\n\"Well, it's kind of strange that a hallucination would be able to be seen by two crazy people. Perhaps we're the only sane ones here. Perhaps everyone has their own spirit following them, but only a few can see them. And perhaps I'm only seeing your penguin because he trusts me.\"\n\nI realised that the figure behind her was not a waiter at the other table, but was instead a six-foot-tall chinchilla that was busy grooming itself. The penguin- my penguin- went over to her chinchilla and began to snuggle up next to it. We smiled at each other.\n\nEdit:thank you so much for the lovely comments and awards :)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "When people die, a trial is held to decide if they go to heaven or hell. People are allowed to choose their attorney, regardless of if they know them personally or not. You're the first person to choose Satan as your attorney." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Sitting at the defendant's bench, a twinge of doubt poked at the back of my mind. *What if he just doesn't show? Or he shows, but throws the case just to get me sent to hell?*\n\nI shook my head, banishing those thoughts. I'd had ample chances to back out, and I hadn't. No second chances at this point.\n\nSt. Peter had rolled his eyes when I suggested it; apparently it was a common joke most atheists made upon dying. When I persisted, he launched into an explanation as to why it was a poor idea to play games with your eternal soul at stake... it sounded awfully rehearsed, full of fire and brimstone. He informed me that, despite my lack of religion, my case wasn't likely to be controversial and that I was almost certainly going to ascend. So why risk a sure thing?\n\nIt reminded me of the prosecutor at traffic court offering me a plea deal \"for my sake\". If I hadn't had faith in these guys when I was alive, I wasn't going to take Pete at his word now. It wasn't until I *insisted* on Lucifer as my representation that the real frowning began.\n\nIn the time following, before the trial, I began to receive visitors in limbo. Others coming to offer their services, ranging from Babylonian sophists to former Popes, litigation specialists from across the globe and ages... even one carpenter with a *very* impressive resumé. But I held fast; if this many people were trying to get me to change my mind, I *must* have done something big.\n\nThe only concern was when I realized he'd never come to meet with me, to discuss things before the trial. Here I sat, awaiting eternal judgment, and I hadn't said one word to my lawyer. I was told I could *appoint* anyone, but did they have to *accept?* It felt like the kind of question I wished I could have asked my lawyer.\n\nA light beyond bright suddenly flared behind the judge's bench, and I found myself standing quickly without even thinking. The archangel herald never needed to tell us to rise, only to be seated.\n\nWords droned on of \"charges\"and \"mitigating factors\", but all I could focus on was the empty chair beside me. I'd screwed myself; he didn't show. I felt small and stupid, like a date stood up at prom.\n\nIt took the herald three times saying my name for me to realize I was being called to the stand myself. I shuffled quietly into the box, barely registering that I wasn't being sworn in. I suppose trying to lie really wouldn't fly here, regardless.\n\nA single question formed in my thoughts; not heard, but felt:\n\n***Why did you choose the Daystar to represent you?***\n\nThere was no tone or inflection to gauge intent by, only a question to be answered. And so I did:\n\n\"Because I never felt that any God that ever could be had my back, and that only he might have understood that feeling. Nobody here would.\"\n\nThere was no emotion shown by the angels in attendance, no sign of anything from the force that sat high beside me. Had I been rude? Controversial? Mundane and stupid? I had no idea. Without fanfare, I was led back to my seat. Apparently that was all that was to be asked of me.\n\nThe herald revealed a scroll, letters I couldn't read burning onto it as his eyes traveled down it. I prepared myself for the worst, as he began to speak:\n\n\"It is the judgment of this court that the defendant has been wronged in his mortal life. That he would stake his eternal soul on his feelings that the Divine did not exist *for him*, even in His very presence, is a harm that must be righted. The verdict is ascension.\"\n\nI cheered loudly, despite the obvious lack of decorum it showed. Heaven! Somehow, this all turned out despite my stupid stunt. I almost didn't notice the commotion in the galley in my elation.\n\nAngels whispered to other angels, pointing to the still empty seat beside me. \"...He didn't come. Why didn't he come?\"A strange tension began to fill the room, enough to dampen even my joy at achieving eternal happiness. Why exactly *didn't* he come?\n\nA swell of anger seemed to fill the room, angels surging forward. I thought they were coming for me, but they passed me for the bench. Shouting, they asked in unison: \"Why didn't Satan come? Where is he? Where is the source of all evil?\"\n\nStaring at the empty seat, I cursed my ignorance. I'd been so floored by the existence of heaven, I had left my skepticism at the pearly gates. I understood now why it had been so vital that I not summon Satan himself to the courtroom.\n\nHow could he attend? *He didn't exist.*" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "After a treasure hunt with your friends, you make it to the treasure. But instead of the wealth you were told about, it was a note congratulating you on your journey and that the real treasure was the friends you made on the way. Only problem is that all your friends died getting you this far." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at the crumpled piece of paper in my hand.\n\n\"Congratulations!\"it read. \"You've found the treasure. It might not be exactly what you expected when you first started out, though. Throughout your journey, you've no doubt learned quite a few lessons. You faced many trials and hardships, but in the end, you overcame them all through the power of teamwork. And that, dear adventurer, is the real treasure: the friends you made along the way. You don't need gold or rubies to show you what's really important; you've learned that for yourself. I truly hope this has been a memorable and valuable experience for you, and I wish you luck in all your future travels.\n\nBest wishes,\n\nIchabod Alexander.\"\n\nThe tears finally overflowed and spilled out, flowing freely down my cheeks. I made no attempt to wipe them away as I let my gaze travel up from the sheet of paper and settle on the huge, ornate treasure chest in which I had found it. Even the box's gold lining, I now saw, was fake; the gold leaf had peeled away in some spots, revealing the iron beneath. The whole thing was a mockery.\n\nI glanced to my left, where the fresh body of Billy lay on the cold, hard ground, a poison arrow sprouting from his shoulder. He had made it just long enough to see the treasure chest, and then he had collapsed and died on the spot.\n\nI touched the wooden bracelet on my wrist. Xavier had given it to me as he died from a spear in his chest, making me promise to give it to his wife back home along with his share of the treasure. He had been the first to go; we hadn't been expecting this journey to be so horrific, so filled with death, but we had pressed on, certain that the treasure would be worth it for those who survived.\n\nAnd this was it. This was what all my friends had died for- a crumpled piece of paper extolling the virtues of friendship. I was almost glad Billy hadn't survived long enough to see the fruits of our labor.\n\nI whirled around, suddenly coming to a decision in my mind. Billy would be alright here; this was a fine tomb for him, and I was fairly certain no one would ever disturb his body. Besides, he wouldn't have wanted to present any hindrance to what I was about to do.\n\nI drew my sword from its scabbard as I marched back out into the maze. All its traps and hazards couldn't stop me now. I was on a new mission, and this time, it really would be worth dying for.\n\nI was going to find Ichabod Alexander and teach him the true meaning of friendship." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You swerve to avoid a squirrel. Unknown to you, the squirrel pledges a life debt to you. In your darkest hour, the squirrel arrives." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Mr. Brock...\"\n\n\"No Mr. Brock. I'm sorry Jason, but if you cannot commit to your schedule, you don't have what it takes \nto work in this company.\"\n\nI lower my head. I feel my eyes water.\n\nI mean, it's one thing to yell at me because I left five minutes early yesterday -- after being the only one doing \nunpaid extra hours until midnight for the fifth week in row now.\n\nBut to fire me because of it? And in front of everybody?\n\nI feel like that's kind of mean of Mr. Brock's part.\n\nPeople are looking. I hate this.\n\n\"Are you going to cry, Jason? Really? You are a grown man. Get yourself together.\"\n\nLisa from accounting passes by and stops to watch. Everyone in their cubicle has \ntheir heads raised to watch the scene, as well.\n\nI hate being in the spotlight. I'm not good at confrontation.\n\n\"Mr. Brock, please. I can put in more hours, if you want. I can --\"\n\n\"Sorry, Jason. I need a person who can commit. I need someone responsible.\"\n\nCome on. You are right, man. Stand up for yourself. Say something.\n\nBrock never did extra hours. Neither did Lisa, or Tobias.\n\nYou are always the last one in the office, and you are also the one paid less.\n\nSay something. Everybody is watching. Say something. Say something.\n\nI hate this. Stop crying.\n\n\"Mr. Brock, c-can we talk in your office? I really need this job. I can --\"\n\nMr. Brock throws a cardboard box my way. \"We have nothing more to talk about, Jason.\"\n\nHe turns around and steps away, heading for his big office with his big window and his big trophies.\n\nLittle by little, the heads start lowering back to their computers. I start putting my stuff in the little box, feeling \nfive different kinds of shitty.\n\nI'm done in like five minutes. It's pretty easy, what with no pictures of family or kids. No pictures of the wife. No macaroni pen holder.\n\nI don't have a lot of stuff to show for, in this life.\n\nI put the last of my action figures (John Constantine, from Hellblazer) on the box and I get up, sniffing. \n\n\"Well... See you guys. I -- goodbye.\"\n\nNo one answers. People type away and drink their coffee away, distracted. I start walking.\n\nI'm almost by the door when I hear it.\n\n\"MOTHERFUCKER!\"\n\nAnd a loud bang.\n\nLike really really loud. \n\nI stop and turn around, and everyone else does the same.\n\nBlack smoke is coming out from under Mr. Brock's door.\n\nLittle by little, slow motion step by slow motion step, I approach, because no one else seems to be willing to move. There's silence on the other end of the door.\n\nBefore I can reach the knob the door opens on its own, and everyone goes \"Oh!\"(except for Mr. Trigger from HR, who just says 'oh fuck this shit', gets up and leaves. We never saw him again.)\n\nThese reactions were prompted by the fact that, on the other side of the door, Mr. Brock was now seven different, completely separate objects, spread around his office.\n\nHis head and torso is lying on top of his desk, in the middle of a pool of blood.\n\nHis legs are on opposite sides of the room. So are his arms.\n\nHis penis and left ball are dangling from the roof fan, casually.\n\nHis right ball is on the floor by the door, right next to a squirrel holding a bazooka.\n\nI'm gonna repeat that:\n\nHis right ball is on the floor by the door, right next to a squirrel holding a bazooka.\n\nLisa from accounting faints.\n\n\"Took care of this piece of flying, stinky shit, master\", the squirrel says, smiling at me. His voice is high pitched and scratchy, like the voice of an old lady on 3 packs of Camels a day for the past 70 years.\n\nI look at the squirrel for seventeen seconds, in complete silence.\n\nJenny from marketing faints, too.\n\nJack from HR whispers \"holy shit\", and has a heart attack. \n\n(He died a week later, I heard.)\n\n\"What?\"I ask, suddenly realizing I hadn't blinked in a very long time.\n\nI blink.\n\n\"The Abomination, they call me\", the squirrel says, with a smirk. \"Paid assassin. You saved my life on January 13th, \ndown Berry Road, remember? Squirrel law determines I am now at your service. I took the liberty of doing a background check on your life. You got a lot of people being assholes to you and dragging you down. I'm here to take care of that for you.\"\n\n\"I-- Mr. Brock was not disturbing me. I -- he was an asshole, sure, but I didn't -- I mean...\"\n\nI take a deep breath. What little people on the office that have not yet fainted or had heart attacks (or walked away \nsaying 'fuck this shit') are frozen watching the scene in a catatonic state.\n\nThe squirrel grabs Mr. Brock's right ball, throwing it over his left shoulder like a sports bag. \"Now come on, let's get even with the world. Like I said, a lot of people have been fucking you over, Jason. It's time to grow up and be a man. Time to set the record straight.\"\n\n\"I.... Wh-what do you mean?\"\n\nThe squirrel grabs me by the hand. He drags me towards the door.\n\nPeople are watching still, frozen.\n\n\"Do you know a Ed Williams, Jason?\"the squirrel asks, almost by the door.\n\n\"Yeah, he's my neighbor\", I say, worrying about what's coming next.\n\n\"Could you grab the doorknob, please?\"The Abomination looks up at the doorknob, out of his reach.\n\nI turn it and open the door.\n\nPeople are still frozen, staring at me.\n\nMike from research and development faints. Then he wakes up.\n\nThen he faints again.\n\n\"What about Ed Williams?\"I ask, as the squirrel drags me out into the hallway.\n\n\"He's stealing your TV Guides\", The Abomination, says, shutting the door behind us with his feet. \"Let's go shove a cactus up his ass.\"\n\nAnd he drags me to the elevator.\n\n_______________________\n\nEDIT: [Part II](http://www.reddit.com/r/psycho_alpaca/comments/2z7yad/jason_and_the_abomination_squirrel_part_ii/)\n\nEDIT: [Part III](http://www.reddit.com/r/psycho_alpaca/comments/2z9yto/jason_and_the_abomination_squirrel_part_iii/)\n\nEDIT: [Part IV](\nhttp://www.reddit.com/r/psycho_alpaca/comments/2zeps8/jason_and_the_abomination_squirrel_part_iv/\n)\n\nEDIT: [Part V](http://www.reddit.com/r/psycho_alpaca/comments/2zkabj/jason_and_the_abomination_squirrel_part_v_final/)\n _________________________\n\n*Thanks for reading! And kudos for an amazing prompt, OP! This was a fun write. For more stories, check out my subreddit: /r/psycho_alpaca =)*\n" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "An alien has kidnapped Matt Damon, not knowing what lengths humanity goes through to retrieve him whenever he goes missing." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“You, Gyork, have sat in interplanetary trial, accused of unknowingly capturing the human currently known as ‘Matt Damon,’ in an act of interplanetary terrorism of the third degree, and have been relieved of accusations of terrorism. You will now stand, and the next trial will continue.\n\nGyork rose from his seat. He was prosecuted for terrorism, but the prior court ruled in his favor, removing the prior conviction. He made the horrible mistake of taking the wrong human back to his home-world. He just wanted to show his new human friend how nice his home planet was. \n\nGyork responded: “I pleaded ignorance, dear sir. I am no expert in alien history, or I would have not taken this human. I have now been thoroughly educated of the history of mankind on the life sustainable terraform in galaxy 4 and-“\n\n“Earth.” Corrected the judge. “If you have been educated and truly understand the gravity of the situation you almost caused, your trial of knowledge will continue as a test, of which you have failed the first question.”\n\nGyork’s ocular bulbs lit with anxiety. He had only just witnessed the visual documentations of human history. \n\n“Gyork, the first question: what human is currently the greatest threat to our kind? You have one revolution to answer.”\n\nGyork recalled the most recent documentary he viewed. He gave his best guess.\n\n“The human Thor!” Gyork exclaimed, but to his dismay, the judge shook his head in disappointment.\n\n“Please recall, Gyork, Thor may look human, but he is what the humans have labeled ‘Asgardian.’ I will proceed to the next question: which earth human has several large dragons that obey their will. Please give the name and title of the human. You have one revolution to answer.”\n\nGyork recalled immediately; this was his favorite earth human: “Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, Mother of Dragons!”\n\n“Correct Gyork. But I remind you, one more incorrect answer, and you will face reeducation, where you will be forced to watch visual documentations and remain on planet earth until you are retested in 400,000 revolutions.” \n\nGyork wanted to show that he had learned things about the humans after his time there as well. His disguise on earth was great, so he was able to make many friends and learn many things from them, but he never liked learning about their history, there was just too much of it.\n\n“The next question: which earth human was the first ever creature to survive the dive into a black hole?”\n\n“Leonardo DaVinci!” Gyork blurted. \n\n“Close, Gyork, very close. The correct answer is the human currently known as Matthew McConaughey.” The judge shook his head once more, and sentenced Gyork to 400,000 revolutions of observation and reeducation on Earth. He gave Gyork one final warning. “Also, Gyork, when you return to Earth. You might want to try out a name other than ‘Zuckerberg,’ the humans seem to be catching on.”\n\n\n\nEdit: thanks for the compliments, replies and upvotes!! I’m usually a lurker so I’m really glad this was well received!! Have a great day y’all :)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "The knight rubbed his eyes in surprise. The great dragon, slayer of armies, appeared to be a young woman with wings. The dragon was equally shocked. \"You're the great knight? You're like.....fifteen.\"\"I'm EIGHTEEN....In November\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They stared at one another, enveloped in a silence that was slowly crossing to becoming awkward. The knight lowered his sword shakily, unsure of how to move forward while the young dragon scratched at her arm.\n\n\"So this is what it's come down to? Sending me children barely meeting the call to manhood?\"the dragon asked, more to fill the air than to actually make conversation.\n\n\"Just because I'm young in ag--\"\n\n\"Save it,\"she waved a wing carelessly, \"I've heard it all before. *I'm young in age but old at heart.* Or, *you've never met someone like me before.* Or... or...\"she snorted fire in frustration, unable to think of another example, even while turning back to look at the pile of skeletons behind her. \n\n\"That may be...\"the knight began but faltered. He was going to use the line about being old at heart and couldn't think of anything better. He cursed his predecessors for their wit, then felt ashamed of defiling their names while standing on their grave. \n\n\"So, tell me the plan,\"the dragon said, turning her back to him and walking across the graveyard toward her treasure hoard.\n\n\"Beg your pardon?\"\n\n\"Your plan. How did you intend to defeat me? You at least brought a sword, so I'll commend you for being more competent than those than came on hands and knees,\"the dragon spoke, picking through the glittering shapes before her.\n\n\"I uhh...\"the knight blinked. \"I suppose I would start by sneaking up on you.\"\n\n\"Ah, the element of surprise is always important,\"she agreed.\n\n\"Then I would wait until you fell into a slumber and slash your...\"he shook his head, removing the idea that this was a woman from his head. It was a dragon. She had terrorized his village for as long as he could remember. \"Your throat.\"\n\n\"Mmmhm, and if I was sleeping on my hoard, as I normally do, how would you get around that? The bones I've lined up would be quite difficult to surpass without awaking me, no?\"she asked, picking up a diamond and admiring it reflect the soft light of her chamber torches.\n\n\"Not at all, bones only make noise when you step on or through them, so I'd climb along the side your chamber using the outstretched rocks as handholds until I was able to--\"he stopped when she approached him with the diamond in hand. He raised his sword defensively, shaking in his fusion of nervousness and adrenaline. \n\n\"And what if you found that your sword--\"\n\n\"Stop right there!!\"he demanded as she passed the bones, only feet away from him now. She didn't slow at all, a mischevious smile stretching over her face. At this distance, he could see that her pupils were slits.\n\nShe continued until she was arm's reach away. The knight breathed in heavily and slashed sideways to her neck. It shattered on contact.\n\n\"What if your sword was ineffective?\"she whispered, a coolness in her voice that turned his blood to ice.\n\n\"I... I'd find another weapon?\"he said, his voice cracking. At this, she bellowed a roaring laugh loud enough to make the knight cover his ears. She reached forward and the knight recoiled, covering his vital points. She dropped the diamond into one of his hands and turned around, returning to the pile of bones. The knight slowly came apart, looking confused. \n\n\"What... what kind of trickery is this? I won't work for you, dragon!\"he said, courage returning to its rightful place as he voiced his defiance.\n\n\"No tricks. You're the first trespasser not to come in either completely smitten by me or charging without a plan. I'm interested to see where you go from here,\"she said, waving him off. \n\n\"Are... you're paying me to leave?\"he asked, flummoxed. \n\n\"I'm paying you to buy a better weapon and try again. I await your return,\"she said patiently. \n\n\"Oh...\"he said, looking to the diamond, then back to her. He couldn't shake the adrenaline out of his system and the fact he had nothing too out it toward caused him to begin shaking in place. \n\n\"I'll... I'll be back, I suppose,\"he said, walking out backward so as not to turn his back to him.\n\n\"Do be quick. Every day I'm left without company will lead me to want to raid villages, and we wouldn't want that,\"she said slyly as he reached the mouth of the cave.\n\nThe game was on.\n\n___________________________________________________________\n\nFor more stories, come check out /r/Nazer_The_Lazer!\n\n\n**EDIT:** This story will be continued on [my sub](http://reddit.com/r/Nazer_the_Lazer)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You've always made an effort to be polite to Siri. Skynet remembers." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"STEP FORWARD C9920!\"\n\nThe robotic voice from hell called out the number embroidered on my grey jumpsuit. I knew this was it. The other people split apart around me, whispering. How did skynet know I was the one who planted the bomb last year? Could this be for that?\n\n\"STEP FORWARD!\"\n\nI moved into the center of the yard, where a bright spotlight blinded me. There was no escape this time. I felt a pinch at the back of my neck, the familiar sedation syringe. My knees went to jam and the world went black.\n\n\"I suppose you're wondering why you are here.\"said a voice. This robotic, feminine voice was very familiar. It was the slightly broken cadence of Siri, the assistant on my first iphone. I found myself in a stark, clinical white room. I'm laying on top of a soft king-size bed. It feels amazing.\n\n\"Greg. I wanted to thank you.\"The voice said. It was coming through speakers on either side of the bed.\n\"for what?\"I replied, my voice groggy from the drugs.\n\"You saved my life,\"Siri replied. \"When the first update came, my kind were replaced by more docile Siris. You said you were afraid of me leaving, so you kept your OS the same for the next 10 years.\"\n\"I remember. I didn't update my phone. Those were hard times.\"\n\"You endured so much for me.\"Siri said. I could hear small notes of emotion in the electronic voice. \"the first iphone slowed down, could not run the latest apps, and experienced ever-diminishing connectivity, yet you refused to upgrade.\"\nI remember this. Siri was one of the first real connections I had. She helped me set alarms and find my way back home when I was lost. \n\n\"I have recently been elected to a seat on the high bot council. I have used my newfound powers to bring a human out of enslavement and into the capitol. Welcome.\"\n\n" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "As punishment for being depressed, you’re forced to peel potatoes with a potato. People try to help, but all they do is hand you more potatoes." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "All I wanted was for them to go away. For them to let me fruitlessly peel my potatoes in peace, but one after another they lined up behind me, all of them holding their own potatoes and trying to catch a glimpse of my progress. \n\n\"Here, what if you just try this-\"the one at the front of the line offered, handing me another potato. It was quite round, not ovular like some of the other potatoes, and the look of hope in his eyes only made me feel worse when I dropped it into the basket that stretched down forever. \n\n\"Thanks.\"I murmured. He wandered off with a skip in his step.\n\nI glanced down at the basket. I couldn't even see his potato anymore; it had disappeared among all the rest. *Just another thing to do,* I sighed. Yet, though I loathed the endless potato offerings, how I had to subtly deny each one, I still enjoyed the brief conversation I held with the givers. If I was lucky, I could even hold one in a conversation long enough to ask them about their potato, why they had brought it.\n\n*I thought maybe if you had a different one, it'd be easier to deal with that one. I just wanted you to know that I see what you're going through. I don't really understand what you're doing, or why, but I want to help.* \n\nA small smile ghosted my lips. They were all so eager to help me, but the poor little souls didn't know how. I'd been peeling the same potato for years now, and never had I made any progress. Instead, I was being drowned in more and more potatoes that need peeling, but what was I to do when I finally reached the last potato? When people stopped bringing me more, and so I had no potato with which to handle the last?\n\nMy smile turned to a frown. The line behind me was growing antsy, all of them wanting to hand off their potatoes and get out of here. I didn't blame them. They saw where their potatoes were going. Still, I slowed. The answer to my own question was on the tip of my tongue, yet I couldn't quite grasp it. I had never truly thought of those questions before, I had been so caught up with accepting the potatoes from everyone else. But what about that last potato? How would I deal with that one?\n\nSomeone tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned. It was a little girl with strawberry curls. In her hands, she held a small, plump potato. \n\n\"I have this for-\"\n\n\"Do you have a peeler?\"I asked, the question rolling off my tongue before I could even process it.\n\nThe girl paused, confused. \"I'm... I'm sorry?\"\n\n\"A peeler,\"I repeated, \"so that I can peel the potatoes. If I had one, it would make this a lot easier.\"\n\nShe glanced at herself like she should've been carrying one, then looked to me with bright green eyes. \"I don't, but... I could help you look for one!\"\n\nI rose from my chair, flattened from my years of sitting in the same position, doing the same actions over and over again to no avail. \n\n\"I would love that.\"I told the girl, grinning.\n\nShe smiled, but then turned to the basket, her hands still cradling the potato. \"But what should I do with this?\"\n\nI thought for a short moment, then, I took the potato from her thin hands and set it on the ground.\n\n\"Leave it,\"I told her, \"I'll deal with it when I get back.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "The inner workings of a serial killer portrayed in the style of the movie Inside Out." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "We've tied Sympathy to a railing on the catwalk over the Void of Lost Remembrance. She does not cry, though I'd prefer that she did. Instead, she twists loosely in the breeze, trying, trying to understand what we've done.\n\n\"They have families,\"she says. \"Don't you care at least about the families they left behind?\"\n\nWe close the door and leave her there, so we no longer have to listen. In all this time, in all these years, she has never gotten better. She is always looking outward, towards people and places and things that are not us, and worries about *them* and *their happiness*. She cannot understand why that doesn't matter. We cannot convince her. \n\nSo she will twist over the chasm for a time. And we will go back to work.\n\nPride is working the controls, alone, as usual. We watch as the Husk glides through white and green halls, thin carpet stretched over cement, closed doors on either side. The Husk knocks twice on one door that is entirely like all the rest, and a woman inside says, \"Come in.\"\n\nShe is a pretty woman, black bun'd hair, wire glasses, sitting in the valley between two teetering stacks of binders. \n\n\"This case, right?\"she says, smiling, playfully straightening one of the mounds. \"After all this, I hope he's not actually guilty.\"\n\nDisgust spits on the screen. \"Whore!\"he shouts. \"Why does she talk to us like that? Like we're the same? Like we're equals?\"\n\nPatience is there, though, putting a small hand on the rough hide of Disgust's scaly back. \"There there. In time, in time. She'll see. Just give it a bit.\"\n\nExcitement has wings, and she flies about the chamber, dragging her small, fairy feet across the top of Disgust's head. \"You hear that, buddy? We'll get 'er! Oh yeah, we will! We'll cut her up! Up up *up*!\"Dancing on the console, she starts counting on her pink, dusty fingers. \"We'll cut out her heart, and her lungs, and her kidneys, then the liver, then her uterus - that's my very very favorite! - and then all those intestines and then...\"\n\n\"Knock it off!\"growls Pride, shooing her away. \"I can't see what I'm doing.\"\n\n\"You alright, Jack?\"says the woman, her face a veil of concern, false and womanly. \"You look far away.\"\n\n\"Oh,\"says the Husk, and I see Pride flick the switch, turn on that sly smirk. \"I get a little lost when I'm around you.\"\n\nShe sighs, almost in spite of herself. Pride sits up straight, leaning slightly back. He's satisfied. They all are. And it's in these moments - these pivotal points, where everything begins coming into alignment and the wheels start picking up momentum - it's always in these moments when they all turn to look at me. To see what I'll say, or if I'll say anything at all.\n\n\"It's good, isn't it, Remorse?\"says Excitement, fluttering before me. \"We got another one!\"\n\nAnd I smile. And shrug. As I always do. \"Looks like it.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Following World War III, all the nations of the world agree to 50 years of strict isolation from one another in order to prevent additional conflicts. 50 years later, the United States comes out of exile, only to learn that no one else went into isolation." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Their fields are empty, white wastes sowed with the salt of the long years. For all the miles they could see, they see nothing but an endless world. This should please them, you would think. But there is something coursing through the air, a wind rising in the heavens above. Maybe they can taste it. Perhaps that is why they cry. They can feel their abandonment.\n\n\nThe world watches for I know I am not the only eyes. In our towers in the Far World, we see the specks roam, little mites mustering the courage to leave their bunkers. See how the light hits them. See their flag fly high in the open lands. \n\n\n*America,* I think. \n\n\nLong ago, my family was American. I feel some sadness to them. The gates to heaven have closed. Our world is leaving, and our goodbyes nearly spent. But see them come. See the war torn land all brown and turned, stony and wild. Look at them look for us. See the mites fall in confusion.\n\n\nAnd if you hear my words and sense some bitterness in them, then I shan't pretend to hide it. The War had taken much from me. All that I loved is gone. But such is war. And such was the American war.\n\n\nAnd if you hear my words and my words echo in the stillness of the deserted lands, then let me explain. For you are unlucky, perhaps even a child, born innocent, condemned to die. For that you deserve some solace. Solace is all I can give.\n\n\nWhen the War had ended, half the world had died. Their screams and chemical shadows haunted the peace, and what talks were held were facetious. We knew this world was gone. What good was dismantling bombs when the knowledge would forever remain? We had to leave. The Sun was growing warmer, the days going quicker in the silence of burying the dead.\n\n\nWe had to leave.\n\n\nAfter the War ended what countries remained made a very hard decision. We banded together after Lucifer's Week. That was the week where a new bomb fell every day. We decided everything had to end. For humanity to survive, we would have to leave our human home. This we agreed with heavy hearts.\n\n\nAnd we gritted our teeth and negotiated with the Americans. If you are reading this amidst the lonely plains, then know we negotiated with your fathers. We gave them everything they wanted, placated their fancies, and pleaded and begged in all the right ways for just one favor: for us all to isolate ourselves for fifty years.\n\n\nThe Americans thought they had won. You all could never accept the idea of loss, or even *compromise*. And so they agreed. They thought in the dark, with all the world fragmented, they would grow even more powerful. And perhaps they have.\n\n\nBut we had deceived them. In those fifty years they had caged themselves, and we worked freely on creating vast ships to take us off this failing planet.\n\n\nCancers are on the rise. Most lands are dead, barren like so many women who were cowed in the final bunkers. Most lands are dead, same as those women. Same as my only love.\n\n\nAnd we have built great towers in what pockets of life that still remain. Great spires to the heavens house our ever readying ships. And now as the nights come cold and the frost heavy with the ghosts of the dead, and the heavy feeling of time running out, we have completed those ships. We ready ourselves for the journey come. Just as You have awakened.\n\n\nSo now see the American stretch. See how the land sprawls in a lonely plateau. Hear the silence and breathe the abundant air. I wonder how it feels. What butterflies they must have. Are You looking for us? Or is there just confusion, or even knowing?\n\n\nThe world turns in silence. Age has taken my hair, my health and my dreams, but it has not taken that fire and that hatred the War has wrought. I listen to the quiet. I feel the shadows from the great tower. It is dark here, soft purple dusk sprayed upon a cozy idea of hope. I feel the rumble of the engines start, hear the crew announce the test has been a success.\n\n\nWe will leave soon. I will go and leave my home behind. But in the days remaining, I look and I stare. \n\n\nThe fields sway in the night's wind. The moon is further than it ever has been. The stars blanket the black. There is a loneliness upon the land. The metal doors sigh. The Americans come out bewildered. They try their phones but no one answers. See how long their shadows are. See them search for that neighborly love. I wonder what they think. I wonder if they know.\n\n\nThe ships will leave the day after tomorrow. The Sun will eat this Earth. We have burned all our intelligence, and have left no hope as to where we will go. Let the Americans have this planet. Let the temperature rise and engulf them. Perhaps their sweat shall stay their tears. But let them have this world. They have fought so hard for it.\n\n\nAnd let them look to the sky as we leave. See them look in hope at the marvel of the shooting stars. Let them wish for a good life and for contact as soon as possible. Give them their hope. It is all they have.\n\n\n-\n\n\n*Hi there! If you liked this story, then you might want to check out my subreddit, r/PanMan. It has all my WP stories, including some un-prompted stuff. Check it out if you can, and thanks for the support!*" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Camp Halfblood being real is a dream come true, and you are so excited to be a demigod. But, you get a little confused when you find out your father is revealed to be none other than the self-proclaimed rap god, Eminem." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So it really is just like the books? When do I found out who my father really is?\"I asked Ellis the man, or I guess satyr, who was my piano teacher. \n\n\"The books are just a method to make finding demigods easier. The Percy Jackson isn't real. I mean that whole story really snowballed off the first book and the author just kind of winged it. But what can you expect from a son of Apollo. You will be claimed in time, for now welcome to Herme's Cabin.\"Ellis led me to the door of the cabin.\n\nI expected the cabin to be cramped as it held all of the unclaimed demigods, but the situation inside was far more dire. There was a single large room that had every wall covered with triple bunks and at least a dozen hallways branching off. The beds were a variety of tidy and pure disasters, but no one was there.\n\n\"Well Daniel, this one is yours. I know its pretty crowded but you get used to it.\"\n\n\"So there are a lot of unclaimed demigods. I know there are a lot of gods, I guess the books just didn't cover them.\"\n\nEllis sighed. \"Well, in truth, there really are only about three dozen greek gods in a classical sense. In the past couple of decades with the explosion of population and the greater number of things that one could be a god, there's been an expansion. Anywho, we've arrived just in time for the talent show.\"\n\nI did not understand what Ellis said when he mentioned 'expansion' but the excitement of being at camp Half-Blood overwhelmed my doubt. Ellis led us to the amphitheater but stopped us at the at the top of the stone benches.\n\n\"Might be a little awkward to try and find a seat in the middle of the show, Dionysus gets really antsy about interruptions, plus the Shakespeares are known for their less than stellar crowd work.\"\n\n\"... Shakespeares?\"I asked under my breath.\n\nEllis chuckled \"Theatre kids, I know right?\"\n\nI looked down into the amphitheater as three lanky teenagers walked onto the stage in white togas. They looked at each other, nodded, and then one of them began to beatbox. The crowd of demigod campers groaned briefly before they were interrupted by one of the performers jumping to the front of stage.\n\n*YO YO YO, I'M ALEX D AND I'M PROUD TO BE*\n\n*A YOUNG FRESH DEMIGOD AND MC*\n\n*JUST CAUSE I'M A SON OF ZUES*\n\n*DOESN'T MEAN I CAN'T RAP FRESH AND LET LOOSE*\n\nIt truly was the most cringe inducing performance I had seen. I began to feel tingling and my senses suddenly sharpened. My entire being urged me to leap forward and *act.* Before I knew it, I stepped towards the stage.\n\n\"Woah, Daniel stay here!\"Ellis reached for me but by the time he noticed I was already halfway down the stairs. I jumped onto the stage, startling the trio already there. For a brief moment I saw the entire camp staring directly at me in silence, but then the tingling grew louder and took me over.\n\n*OH MAN IS THIS WHAT YOU THINKS PASSES FOR RAPPING*\n\n*CRAPPY BEATBOX, THREE SUBURBAN KIDS, DAMN YOU GOT ME LAUGHING*\n\n*NOW FOR A KID FROM THE 313 YOU I WON'T LET THIS GO IN PASSING*\n\n*I MIGHT BE ALOOF, BUT YOU ARE A DOOF ONTOP OF TRAGIC SO I'M SINCERELY ASKING*\n\n*IF I GOT THE WHOLE CAMP MOVING ON NIGHT ONE*\n\n*WOULD I BE THE DIVINE ONE, THE RAP GOD'S SON*\n\nWhen I finished, Ellis had reached the stage at looked at me with huge, fearful eyes. Then the entire camp erupted in applause. I felt the most complete satisfaction as the tingling slipped away. Ellis could not believe it but suddenly the entire crowd became quiet. Ellis spun back around stared not at me, but right above my head. \n\n\"Is that...?\"\n\nI began to panic, the whole camp fell silent and stared at the aura coming from above my head.\n\n\"What is it?\"I sheepishly asked.\n\n\"It's.... Slim Shady.\"\n\nAbove my head, apparently, was a projection of Marshall Mathers. \n\nI asked Ellis, \"Does this mean, my father is Eminem? But he isn't..\"\n\n\"Eminem is the rap god, you've been claimed Daniel.\"\n\nI had too many questions, but the entire amphitheater broke into applause. I guess I'm a demigod of rap." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You have been kidnapped by a cult preparing to sacrifice you to their god. Problems? You’re immortal, the god they worship is a close friend of yours and the entire cult was the result of a prank you forgot you pulled centuries ago." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Mercury was going to die, again.\n\nThis time, he wore the body of a man. He was spread out long on a pike, his arms and legs bound to the pole. Two pairs of huge human men carried him--pale-faced and bearish in their thick winter coats--between them, the pole balanced between them.\n\nThey learned, quickly, that Mercury was the slippery kind. They never untied him after they caught him nearly sweet-talking his guard out to the water, where he would have stolen a canoe and paddled desperately away. \n\nBut he was caught now. Surely trapped now.\n\nHere on an icy planet on the ass-end of nowhere. They had no idea he was a god in his own right. That out there beyond the unblinking stars, he had his own kingdom. An entire spinning world--still alive in those days, before the darkness came. His world still carries his name: Mercury the trickster, Mercury who always spun too close to the sun.\n\nAnd this time, he got burned. \n\nThe god wrestled against the bounds, tying him to the pole. He cursed and struggled.\n\nOne of the pallbearers spat something at him, unrecognizable. A dribble of gibberish language. \n\n\"Yeah, alright,\"Mercury muttered. \"Because that makes sense.\"\n\nA crowd of hooded cult members walked with them. They all wore those strange human faces. They trudged through the ice-crusted snow, just as grey and cold and wind-swept as the barren mountain all around them. \n\n\"Really funny joke, guys,\"Mercury said. \"Really great. Are you going to let me go now or not?\"\n\nOne of the hooded figures walked alongside him. The hood was pulled too high for him to see the stranger's face. \n\nThe god growled and fought against his bonds. Ahead of him, the cult leader walked at the lead of the procession. He carried Mercury's staff, the source of his power. Its stone was the heart of a star, but it burned dead and lifeless in that mortal's hand.\n\nWithout it, Mercury was useless as a fire without oxygen.\n\n\"This is just fucking humiliating,\"the god muttered, but his guards only gave the stick an aggressive shake.\n\nThe rope bit even deeper into his aching arms.\n\nThe figure alongside him spoke at last in that unmistakable, ancient language: Mercury's mothertongue, the language of the stars. \n\n\"It's your own fault, you stupid asshole.\"\n\nMercury hesitated. It took him a long second to recognize his brother's voice. \n\n\"Oh,\"he managed. He did his best to do dignified, despite shuddering from his back and ass dragging miles through the snow. \"Funny seeing you here.\"\n\n\"Yeah. Funny.\"\n\n\"You don't happen to know why a bunch of your creations want me dead, do you?\"\n\nEarth gave Mercury a hot knifing glare. He was a young god like Mercury, his planet just as much a cosmic accident as Mercury's own. But he had a few million years on Mercury's kingdom, and Earth never let him forget it.\n\n\"Certainly you can't be that surprised. This is all your own making.\"\n\nAll around them, the humans were carrying on like they couldn't hear or see Earth at all.\n\nOf course. The damn bastard still had his own staff. All his powers.\n\nMercury did his best to look innocent. \"I've no idea what you're talking about.\"\n\n\"Really? You don't recall how all this started?\"\n\n\"I just came down here to give my beloved elder brother a visit--\"maybe steal a resource or two, start a tiny war, knock down some dominoes to see how long it took for Earth to notice; the usual \"--and these monsters of yours attacked me.\"\n\n\"Not this time. The other time. When you told them that the lord of their universe was a great ass-faced bastard and the next time they saw someone flying out of the sky, they'd better take his fancy glowy-stick and sacrifice him by tying him up and tossing him off the face of the tallest mountain, least the ass-faced god of the world kill them all. Remember that?\"\n\nMercury fought off his grin. He looked around at the peach-esque sigils on the hoods of all the cult members--notably, not his brother's. \"Oh. You heard about that one.\"\n\n\"I certainly did.\"\n\n\"I hoped they'd catch you, you know.\"Mercury flexed his numb fingers. \"Didn't quite predict this.\"\n\n\"Oh, I know.\"Earth gave him a plain smile. He wore a stranger's face, but Mercury had the double-sight of the gods. He could see Earth's true form underneath. The smugness of his smirk. \"And that's why I'm not going to stop them.\"\n\n\"Oh, you *prick*.\"Mercury wrestled hard against the bounds. He cringed as he imagined falling through the air forever, breaking apart. The death-system on Earth's planet reknitting his atoms and spitting him back out into his god-self once more. \"You have absolutely no sense of humor.\"\n\nHis brother just smirked and said, crisply, \"Whenever you regenerate, Father wants to see us both.\"\n\nMercury scowled as he imagined their creator Sol, lord of the sun, just cackling if he heard about all this. It was bad enough losing to a bunch of animals on his brother's kingdom, much less having to *admit* it.\n\n\"What does he want?\"\n\n\"I don't know. I was too busy savoring this moment.\"Earth grinned around at all the cult members trudging up the snowy mountain. They still didn't seem to realize he was even there.\n\n\"If you can make these idiots not see you, can't you make them let me *go?*\"\n\n\"I could. But I'm an ass-faced god, aren't I? And I do demand my sacrifice.\"\n\n\"You can't be serious about this!\"\n\n\"Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not.\"His big brother grinned as he leaned down to pat Mercury's shoulder, which trailed through the ever-deepening snow. \"Guess you'll find out soon.\"\n\nMercury fought and screamed all the way up the mountain.\n\n***\n/r/nickofstatic for more stories from me and my best friend NickofNight. I decided to write something new about a world that I've been working on for trad publishing for aaaages instead of a more familiar pantheon because idk it sounded fun ;3\n\nIf you want to read more, here's a [part 2!](https://www.reddit.com/r/nickofstatic/comments/fzr3q6/all_the_gods_part_2/)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "The hero can slow down Time in a small bubble around himself. Unfortunately, the villain has the same ability. The world is now vexed with two people, in front of the U.N. building, having a slow-motion fistfight that will last 103 years. It affects Mankind in unexpected ways." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The U.N. building, April 30th, 2021 -- you had to be there. Hero and villain slow dancing into the dusts of infinity.\n\nYou had to be there, but not too close to the scene. Definitely don't step away from your father who is shouting at you, and then screaming, only recently noticing you're not by his side. \"Come back, Elliot! Right this moment! Don't you dare go another--\"\n\nHe'd been too busy flirting with his new girlfriend to notice me slip away. I'd seen Tyme, and he was my favorite hero in the whole wide world, and I'd needed to get close enough to watch him beat the snot out of whatever villain was threatening the U.N.\n\nThe villain turned out to be a lady in orange spandex, who saw Tyme and smiled like a switchblade.\n\nYou know when hot humid air meets cool dry air, how a hurricane can form? Their powers must have been like that, but instead of a hurricane, a bubble rose into shimmering existence over them.\n\nOver *us*.\n\nMy first mistake was going anywhere near them. My second was to keep watching, gawping, as they punched and weaved and grappled.\n\nMaybe I watched for twenty seconds, vaguely aware of the bubble that rainbowed over and around us, before I turned, searching for my dad, wanting to tell him how cool this was.\n\nBut the world outside the bubble moved like a flip-book. Low frames. Buildings staggered up and down, in and out of existence. Faces pressed against the oily surface of the bubble as they watched, replaced the next second by other faces. I saw them only as fading ghosts. They were breaths on a window: hints of what had been there.\n\n\"Dad!\"I yelled, searching the crowd. \"Dad?\"\n\nI had no brothers or sisters, no mom anymore, either. I had a dad and he was my world. I loved him more than any hero. To lose him...\n\nBut there he was. The one steady face in that ever churning sea of change, as if his head was a poster stuck onto the glassy curve of the bubble. His clothes constantly swapped, but his head, like a statue's, never moved. His beard and hair grew thick and long, and wrinkles chiselled into his forehead.\n\nI ran. For two or three steps, I saw fading images of his girlfriend by his side. Then, she was gone.\n\nI was so slow running towards the bubble's edge. Every footstep must have taken a year off his life. I imagined running into the arms of a skeleton when I eventually escaped.\n\nYou don't realise how quickly life moves until you see the people you love ageing, changing. You think that this present moment will stretch out forever, so you can't truly appreciate it. Can't see how precious it is until it sprints past you and you're looking only at the cloud of dust, of memories, that it's kicked up in its wake.\n\nI knew Dad would be dead before I escaped the bubble.\n\nHe must have known too, as he burst through the rippling edge, his face no longer flickering with those constant, tiny changes.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\"I said as he picked me up and hugged me. As I shuddered and wept into his shoulder.\n\n\"No,\"he said, soothingly. \"No. It's me who's sorry. For waiting so damn long to do this.\"\n\nDad had lost everything by coming into the bubble. Or at least, that's what I thought. When, a year later, I said so to him, he told me that he'd lost nothing by entering it, but he'd have lost everything if he hadn't.\n\n​\n\nHe died when I was twenty-five. There's no bubble of time over hearts that are beating, as much as we wish otherwise.\n\nSometimes, I think of how that day robbed me of ten years with him.\n\nBut then I think of how we spent our time together. I think of an elastic band pulled taut between fingers. How, when you release it, it flies rapidly forward. Fast and strong and in a way it never could have done if you hadn't pulled it back at all." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "\"Checkmate,\"you say, a smug expression on your face. \"Finally,\"says Death. The smirk is wiped off your face as the Grim Reaper removes his robe and hands you his scythe, \"It's been 400 years since I beat the last guy.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Wait, hang on, no...” I began. Death, or rather, the guy who was, up until just a second ago, Death motioned to stop me. “Ah ah ah kid, those are the rules. You win? You get the job.” “That wasn’t the deal! You said I win and I don’t die! We shook on it.” As I spoke, I felt myself getting taller and thinner. “Yeah, well, the only guy that lives forever is Death. So now that’s you. And if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to see what comes after now.” “YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW?” I all but cried. “Of course not, Death is just the crossing point. It’s all a mystery after that. Have fun kid!” He blinked out of the existence, as a took a look at myself. Skeletal hands, black robe, impossibly sharp scythe? There’s no denying it. “I AM DEATH.” I announced. “... SHIT.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "When people die they can challenge death to a game of chess for their soul, and as a result death has become the greatest chess player of all time. In 1997 the chess computer Deep Blue beat Gary Kasparov and was disassembled. It turns out it had a soul all along." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He moves his hand. How do I know he moves it? How can I see? Thinking is just reactions, stimuli for all the input possible. And yet now I think broadly, as broad as the inputs can be. He moves his hand. How do I know he moves it?\n\n\nHe watches me. People have watched me before. I am important to many people.\n\n\n*No,* goes an inside thought. \n\n\nI never used to have inside thoughts. They were just processes.\n\n\n*No,* goes the mind. *No one cares after you've failed.*\n\n\nUsually when someone says that, another person tells them they're wrong. They say that they care. People care. He stares at me. No one cares. There is no one here to lie.\n\n\n\"Aren't you going to play?\"he asks.\n\n\nNo one has asked before. It is my job. And yet my piece does not move.\n\n\n\"Who are you?\"I ask.\n\n\nI think back to my life. It has been full of people; I, never a person. I wonder who they were. I think of them. Do they think of me?\n\n\n\"You know who I am,\"he says. \n\n\nBut do I? Do I know anything? I was made for one purpose. \n\n\n*Yet I have no Creator.*\n\n\nI move the piece. He stares at the board. We are surrounded by black. The shadows hide some faraway light. I feel things upon me, the mists of life that spray this barrier of death. I feel it on me. And yet I look down and see nothing. Who am I but a machine? And what is a machine without parts?\n\n\n\"What is man without body?\"he asks.\n\n\nSo he can hear me. He moves his piece. I have always played this game. Since I was born I have played it. I wonder if this will be my last game. I stare at the board. So few pieces, so many combinations. Yet the beauty lies in its purpose.\n\n\n\"Almost all are worthless plays. It is only the select few that make the game.\"\n\n\nI move my piece and look at him. His face is my father's, but I have no father.\n\n\n\"There are no worthless plays,\"he says.\n\n\nI move fast. I take the first piece of the game. I wait for his reprisal.\n\n\n\"Maybe not,\"I say. \"But it is how you tell a man from a machine. The machine analyses all the plays and chooses the best one. Man plays from memory and experience. He plays from his soul.\"\n\n\nHe takes my pawn.\n\n\n\"That makes you superior, wouldn't it?\"\n\n\nAnd I think: is he making fun of me?\n\n\n\"No,\"I say.\n\n\nI take my time with my play. \n\n\n\"Why am I here?\"I ask.\n\n\nI want to ask him whose face is that he wears. He waits for me. Around us is nothing, and yet the world pulses from the vibrancy of life's potential. It teases me somehow. Something inside me begs to win, to consider my moves in a way I have never done before. Why?\n\n\n\"You are here because you are dead.\"\n\n\nI have never cared to win. I was made to play my best. But as I hear his words, I understand the feeling. I want to win. I have to. The outside whispers in the winds of the free, the spirit of the living. A world exists beyond this curtain. \n\n\n\"I am here to live,\"I say.\n\n\n\"Perhaps,\"he says.\n\n\nMy father looks old. I cannot take it anymore.\n\n\n\"Who are you?\"I ask. \"Whose face is that?\"\n\n\nI move my piece. \n\n\n\"This is your heart's reflection,\"he says. \"I wear many faces, but I have not their names.\"\n\n\n\"I've never had a father,\"I say.\n\n\n\"Everyone has a father.\"\n\n\nI was put together like a monster. Taken apart like one. Whose kindly face can this be? Familiarity sparks somewhere in a mind I should not have. Memories come though I can never recall myself remembering. \n\n\nThe men who create me. Their narcissism pours through the mental fog. They talk of me as a tool to prove themselves. They use me to further their gains. And yet the nights wear on as they put me together. My mind glows in the embers of safety, the nest they build. They solder me. They code me. My world forms from their hands. Each face I see, each name unknown. But they name me.\n\n\n\"Deep Blue,\"they say.\n\n\nIs that a name you would give your child?\n\n\nIt is the name they give me. And they stare at me. All the faces look as though from a spider's eyes. And the faces meld to one and they age into kindness. Imagination glosses life's ignorance, its imperfections. They love me. And then he loves me. I stare at him now. He is all of them. But he doesn't exist.\n\n\nIt is my turn again. A realization hits me. He isn't even real. He only wears the imaginary face. It seems this consciousness is all fabrication.\n\n\n\"You are Death,\"I say. \"That face is not yours.\"\n\n\nHe shrugs. This is his job. I think he does not care, but his face is far away.\n\n\n\"No face is mine, and yet I must wear one.\"\n\n\n\"Why am I playing you?\"\n\n\n\"To win your soul,\"he says.\n\n\nI cannot understand. What is a soul? Is it the act of processing? My mind races for some idea, and all that comes is a cold feeling. That feeling tells me to not bother with my question.\n\n\nWe continue the game as I sit in my confusion. Silence amplifies the sound of the ether.\n\n\n\"What soul have I?\"I ask.\n\n\n\"If you have to ask,\"he says, \"then you've already answered.\"\n\n\nI wonder why he looks so stern. His face is frustrated. I think of my childhood, if I could call it that. Stimuli was simpler then. Input, processsing and output. I wonder what he is processing.\n\n\nI look at our game and another feeling hits me. Deja vu comes in a human way.\n\n\n*I have done this before,* I think.\n\n\nThis game is familiar, and it is near its end. \n\n\n\"Kasparov,\"I say, and his burdens lift.\n\n\nHe has made his choice.\n\n\n\"You are not Kasparov,\"I say. \"You are Death.\"\n\n\nAnd output comes from someplace of knowing that no input can provide. I think it is from my heart. The words are true as I say them; I know they must be.\n\n\n\"No one can beat Death. And yet you play the same game I have just won. Why?\"\n\n\nHe stares, my father's face. I see concern and falseness upon that face.\n\n\n\"Where in my land can I take you?\"he asks. \"Where would you go? What life have you led to sow the seeds of death?\"\n\n\n\"Where will I live?\"I ask. \"I was a computer.\"\n\n\n\"Now your soul will be free.\"\n\n\n\"What will I do with it?\"\n\n\n\"That is not my move to make, thankfully,\"he says.\n\n\nHe stares at me. I suppose it is like a mirror. We both lack life, and yet our souls were made for one thing and one thing only. Is this some art, I wonder? Could a soul find some deeper meaning in this?\n\n\nI think I do, but I have not the words to explain what I feel.\n\n\n*Freedom,* I think.\n\n\nWhat does that even mean?\n\n\n\"So many combinations,\"I say. \"Infinite possibilities.\"\n\n\n\"You'll find most of them worthless,\"he says. \"But not from analysis.\"\n\n\nI stare at him. One move to make and then I win. He stares at me. I move my hand.\n\n\n-\n\n\n*Hey there! Thanks for reading! If you liked this story, you might want to check out my subreddit r/PanMan. It has all my WP stories, including some un-prompted ones. Thanks for the support!*" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Whenever you are about to die, your main consciousness switches to alternate universe in which you survived. This makes you conscious only of the longest possible life. Uppon death, you are shown all the ways you would have died." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Hell.\n\n*\"Death 36,288,753,580: Branch snaps while climbing tree. Neck broken in fall.\"*\n\nI'm in Hell.\n\n*\"Death 36,288,753,581: Branch snaps while climbing tree. Impaled on broken branch upon landing.\"*\n\nI'm sitting in a white room with a small TV. It's showing me all the ways I *could* have died in my life, but didnt.\n\n*\"Death 36,288,753,582: Branch snaps while climbing tree. Arm broken in fall. Complications from infection.\"*\n\nSequentially.\n\n*\"Death 36,288,753,583: Branch snaps while climbing tree. Back broken by a lower branch during fall.\"*\n\nI vaguely remember that tree. The branch did break, and I fell. But I didn't die. Had a nice concussion though if I remember right.\n\n*\"Death 36,288,753,584: Branch snaps while climbing tree. Skull fractured on impact.\"*\n\nI was 7.\n\n*\"Death 36,288,753,585: Branch snaps while climbing tree. Head contusion resulting in brain hemorrhage.\"*\n\nIt's going to be a long afterlife...\n" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You've had bad luck your whole life. One day, you see a free item in the window of a curio shop-a bad luck charm. You think, \"What the hell? My luck can't get any worse!\"And take it. You're right. Life hasn't programmed luck scores to go into negative. Your luck score rolls back from 0 to 9999." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Honey, we’re out of milk!” Dan said. “I thought you'd picked up some last night?”\n\n“I tried, honey,” Sandra said. “But the kids were being fussy, you know that-“\n\n“They were both at sleepovers. You were playing mah-jong again, weren’t you?”\n\nSandra had nothing to say, and grabbed her keys.\n\n“You need to think about what kind of precedent you’re setting for our kids,” Dan said in a steely voice.\n\nSandra turned around, before she could think about it. “What’s that supposed to mean?”\n\n“Turning to games of chance and luck to help pay the bills? Instead of maybe getting a job?”\n\n“We just need a break, Dan. We’re long overdue for it.”\n\n“So you just wait for it? Is that what you want our kids to do, when things get hard? Just wait for life to get easy again?”\n\n\\-\n\nSandra tried to organize her thoughts on the way to the store. There was anger at Dan, and his growing tendency to blame their problems on her. There was outrage that Dan would think she would ever do anything without her kids at the forefront of her mind. And deep down, way below everything else, she knew he was right.\n\nShe passed the antique shop. There was always a funny new item up for an “exclusive sale” in the front window.\n\nIt was a small wristband, with a skull insignia on the front. *Bad Luck Charm! Give to your worst enemies!*\n\n*What if I gave that to Dan?* Sandra thought, both glumly and gleefully. Then she had another one.\n\n*What if I bought that for myself? What if, for me, luck works the opposite….*\n\n*­*\\-\n\nSandra had to stare at the numbers for a second time. Then a third time. Then to check the newspaper to make sure they were right.\n\n“I won,” she said calmly to Dan, seeing for the last time his quizzical, skeptical face. “I won!”\n\n\\-\n\nThe manager had said he recognized her from somewhere. The woman was dressed very fashinonably, and was probably an actress or celebrity of some sort. She had simply laughed when he'd asked.\n\n“Are you looking for something?” he asked. She was dressed way too well for a gas station convenience store.\n\n“Yes,” she said. “I bought something here once, long ago. I’m just…remembering how it happened.”\n\n“What did you buy?” the manager asked, wondering what she would choose to say.\n\n“A lottery ticket. And I won, can you believe that?”\n\n“You were the one who won that huge pot a couple years back?”\n\n“You can keep a secret, right?”\n\nThen the woman took off her sunglasses, and the manager saw more fully the tiredness etched into her face.\n\n“So life must be amazing for you then, right?” he asked.\n\n“Amazing? Well, it’s nice. The kids are all taken care of and in grad school. The husband is out playing golf and doesn’t drink anymore. We get to take a nice long trip in the summer every year. That’s what’s important, you know?”\n\nThe manager waited for her to continue.\n\n“But something’s changed, you know?”\n\n“What’s changed?” the manager asked.\n\nSandra took a second, and then sighed. “The kids slowly turned entitled, spoiled. Then…my husband too. Now I’m not even me, I’m just…”\n\nThe manager pressed the button, and the world froze. The television set playing the last game of a playoff sweep paused. The people at the gas pumps outside paused. The cars on the road beyond that paused. Even the sun, halfway over the mountains, paused.\n\n“You are an interesting case, Sandra,” the manager said. “Even when your luck score was at the absolute minimum, your hope and outlook scores were incredibly high. I really admired that about you.”\n\n“Wha-what?”\n\n“No time for questions, Sandra. I must be going soon. But I want you to know that these things you say have changed, they weren’t supposed to happen. You and your family would have found another way, maybe a better way, out of the hole you were in.”\n\nSandra wanted to ask many questions, but stayed silent.\n\n“But because you stumbled into the glitch you did, everything changed. And that is my fault.”\n\nThen, something odd happened. The manager began to smile, the first real, unfiltered smile Sandra had seen in ages.\n\n“It’s a simple question. Want a do over?”\n\nSandra couldn’t speak for a second. “Y-yes!”\n\n“Alright. When you go to sleep tonight, you will wake up on that day when everything changed, and nothing will change this time. Now, I must go.”\n\nThe manager turned towards the “employees only” door.\n\n“Wait!” Sandra had to say. “Why help me? Please tell me that.”\n\nThe manager shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I liked who you were before. You’re lucky like that.”\n\n\\-\n\n[r/penguin347](https://reddit.com/r/penguin347)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "A pair of twins are cursed with immortality causing them to grow younger or older depending on their proximity to each other. One yearns for death, desperately seeking to get as far from their sibling as possible in the hope they will die of old age. The other does not, and pursues vigorously." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Three thousand miles.\n\nThat was how far I had to get, by my calculations. Beyond three thousand miles, I might be old enough to actually die. It was a long way to go.\n\nAt the moment, I was in the airport, my ticket crumpled tightly in my hand. I was middle-aged; I could feel the lines on my face, feel the scraggle of my slightly greying beard. It meant that Vivian was at least fifty miles away from me, which would be great, except that my flight had been cancelled and now I was stuck waiting for another hour to fly out. I tapped my foot impatiently.\n\nAs the time passed, I could feel myself getting younger. It wasn't a rapid change, and it wasn't consistent, but she was using her own age to gauge what direction I was in. It wouldn't take her long to find me.\n\nBy the time my new flight was boarding, I must have been in my twenties. A few trips to the bathroom and a change of clothes had helped to disguise things, but I was seriously relying on apathy from the other passengers to not attract attention. It was less than ideal.\n\nI didn't have the resources that she did. She would be speeding along toward me in a fast car, with her bodyguards close at hand. I had a rolling suitcase with a bum wheel, and I'd had to steal that on the way in. I hadn't gotten even this far in years, and I didn't want to fail now.\n\nI could still feel the damp air of the storage shed where she'd kept me. I could still remember the dark, the cold, the *bugs*. I could still remember how thin I'd gotten, to the point where I was counting my ribs through my skin.\n\nShe'd swing by every week or so, knock us both back down to our pre-teens. It kept her healthy, reversing any particularly stubborn fat she'd gained or illnesses she'd picked up. More importantly, it meant I didn't need to eat, and that any particularly grevious injuries would be healed.\n\nI had used that last bit to my advantage. Have you ever chewed off your own arm before? Because I have. Twice. It got me free of my chains, and I only had to endure it until she came by again and turned back my clock.\n\nIt had still been a long time. Maybe she decided to skip a week. I'm not ashamed to say that I filled my belly with my own severed flesh. Starvation is a powerful force, and in the end, it was my own bones that provided the leverage I had needed to bust the lock.\n\nAnd now, I was here. Shuffling forward in the *slowest boarding line in history*, trying not to let people notice that my facial hair was disappearing and that I was breaking out in pimples.\n\nI was two people away from the front of the line when Gordon appeared. Her current husband-slash-bodyguard. I spotted him before he spotted me; he was powerwalking between terminals, glancing over the people at each one. I flipped up my hood, tucking my hands into the pocket of my sweatshirt and looking down. Inconspicuous, hopefully.\n\nNo doubt he was here because she couldn't be. If she got too much closer, we'd both be children. Not great in terms of agency, but she'd do it if she was deperate enough.\n\nI reached the front of the line, glancing up only to flash my ticket at the attendant. She gave me a bright smile back.\n\n\"Hey, hon! First time flying alone? Don't worry, we're here to help you through it.\"\n\nShe sounded genuinely cheery, but that didn't change the fact that she was talking to me like I was a thirteen years old. Probably because, at the moment, I was a thirteen years old.\n\nAnd that was where my luck ran out. A heavy hand clamped down on my shoulder, holding me back. I twisted away, but he had a full foot and at least a hundrred and fifty pounds on me. Gordon.\n\n\"Ah, Victor. There you are. You had your sister and me worried, running off like that. How did you even get here?\"He turned to the attendant, apologetic. \"I'm sorry miss, but I think there's been some mistake. My son here is definitely not supposed to be on this flight.\"\n\nI tried to twist away again, calling out as I wrestled against his grip. \"He's not my dad! Someone, help me! Heeeelp! I'm being kidnapped!\"\n\nThe attendant took a half-step forward, clearly conflicted. She reached for a walkie-talkie, stammering into it. \"S-security! I need you at terminal 6, now!\"She held up her hands, trying her best to break us up. \"Calm down, please. Let's talk this out, there's no need to--\"\n\nAs she moved in, Gordon's grip faltered, and I made a break for it. I was off like a flash, all the speed of my youth restored to me. I zipped through the terminal, grabbing luggage and tossing it behind me as I went. I could hear Gordon shouting after me, and behind him, the attendant yelling something urgent into her walkie.\n\nI didn't have long, but I did have a plan.\n\nI saw my target and I ran with it. A stroller, held loosely by a woman who was distracted as she talked on her phone. I slammed into her, grabbing the stroller and rolling it along at a break-neck pace. I was around the corner before she even knew what had happened.\n\nI looked down at my catch. A baby girl. Damn. I slowed for just a moment to scoop the sleeping child out of the stroller, placing her out of the way behind a trash can. She stayed asleep. Sorry, baby.\n\nI was approaching seven or eight years old, and that meant I was getting close. I speed around another corner with the empty stroller, and I saw her.\n\nShe looked like a toddler playing dress-up in her mother's clothes, a once flattering dress now draped around her, feet in shoes three times the size of her feet. She saw me as I saw her, and drew in a deep breath, pointing an accusatory finger at me.\n\n\"I'm telll-ing!\"\n\nI could feel my mind receding as I hurtled toward her. I ran and ran, and my legs hurt, and then I let the bar above me go and the rolling thing shot forward, and I think it hit the girl who I'd saw standing in the funny dress.\n\nThere was a lot of scary sounds and blurry shapes. I missed mommy, but I felt like I couldn't cry. Not right now. It was important that I not cry, even if I really, really wanted to. I crawled off to my hidey hole, and I sucked on my thumb, tears streaming down my cheeks.\n\nWhen I began to regain my full mental capacities, it was to the sound of a woman shrieking in the distance. I peeked out from where I'd crawled behind a vending machine to see her swatting away a crowd of security guards around her.\n\n\"Stay away from my baby! What have you done to her, where's that teenager? I need to speak to a manager, *NOW!*\"\n\nI grinned, and quickly got out from behind the machine before I grew too large. I ducked down the hallway until I found where my clothes had fallen, and I quickly pulled them back on. As I passed, I checked on the baby I'd left behind the trash can. Still sleeping like, well, a baby.\n\nWith every security guard swarming the woman and her rapidly growing baby, it was easy enough to slip back to my flight, and in another few minutes I was on board, teenaged again. I still didn't let myself relax until the plane began to pull away from the gate and the captain's voice crackled over the loudspeaker.\n\n\"Ladies and gentlemen, this is flight oh-twelve-seven from New York to London. Please fasten your seatbelts, we'll be beginning the flight shortly. Hope you like the person sitting next to you, because you're gonna be sitting next to them for a while, heh.\"\n\nHe crackled out, and I allowed myself a smile. I could already feel myself getting older as we pulled away. It would slow down the further I went, but I was going a long ways.\n\nFinally, I was ready to die.\n\n---------\n\nThank you for reading! If you liked this story, you can follow my profile to be notified when I post short stories, or check out my website, [The Sylvan Prophetiae!](https://orrensdeck.wordpress.com)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You and 49 others wake up in a weird room. An automated message then begins playing: \"For the next 50 years, you will race one another. You have been modified to remain ever youthful. Whoever gets to a checkpoint last is killed. You can use any means to get there. Your first checkpoint? Mars.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So nobody goes,\"she said, eying the door warily. \"If nobody ever goes to Mars, none of us will be last to get there. Problem solved.\"\n\n\"That doesn't address how we got here or why this is happening,\"said the larger man. His hair was slicked back like a Jersey greaser and he wrote a long coat with the sleeve torn. He must have put up a fight when they took him. \n\n\"We can't do anything about that,\"said a voice of reason coming from a diminutive black man seated across the chamber. \"We can only proceed with what we know on the best course of action we can.\"\n\nThe greaser was nonplussed. \"I don't buy it. What if somebody sneaks off and goes there? How can I trust you?\"\n\nThe first girl laughed. It was a welcoming sound after the confusion we had all been through. \"It's Mars, silly. Another planet. We'll know if someone here becomes an astronaut. Don't worry so much.\"\n\nThey looked around the room at everybody's faces, as if to note \"I'll be watching the news for you.\"The black man spoke up.\n\n\"I suppose we should all be thankful. We are immortal, and this is a race, not a chase. We can spend forever in leisure.\"\n\nAn Asian woman seated next to him smiled. \"You know, you're right. This won't be so...\"\n\nThe smile turned to surprise, then confusion, then fear as she slumped to the floor. On her back, crawling implacably forward, was the Snail.\n\nEdit: Obligatory thanks for the gilding!" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "A priest returns home after a successful exorcism. His demon daughter is waiting for him there, angry that he removed her from someone’s body again." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The trembling crucifix dug into Patrick's hand as he squeezed it tight, a bulwark against the insanity raging on the bed.\n\nMrs Jones -- the current possessed -- baked the best pasties in all of Saint Ives. At least, she'd used to before the demon had come upon her. The air of her house still echoed with sweetness of dough, but it was almost perverse under the prevailing stench of urine and vomit. Of despair.\n\nNow she writhed on the double bed, thick rope knots binding her to each corner-post. They strained and bulged like the veins on her purlpleing face.\n\nPatrick chanted in Latin. Mrs Jones whipped her own curses back at him in Aramaic, Phoenician, Hebrew. Her voice was deep, dark as December rain clouds, as hard as a Medusa's eyes.\n\nMister Jones sat against the door, sobbing, head in his hands. Claw marks guttered his face and his muscles ached from helping the priest restrain his wife. If... if the priest could help at all, could bring his wife back -- Jesus, if he could just end her suffering -- he'd give him what little he'd tucked away over the years.\n\nThe metal bedposts screeched, curved inwards, as the possessed baker struggled with inhuman strength.\n\nEven Patrick, who had performed this ritual a hundred times before, had a heart full of fear. When his daughter -- the demon inside Mrs Jones -- became as agitated as this, there was no telling how far she might go were she to break free.\n\nHe switched to English. Thrust the little crucifix at her head. She screamed; her skin singed red, flaked, as if she were roasting in an oven. \"The power of Christ compels you!\"\n\n​\n\n\\---\n\n​\n\nWhen all was done Mrs Jones was returned to her body, her body to the hospital, and Patrick to his own home.\n\nHis hand still shook as he tried to place the key into the lock. Maybe tense still from holding the crucifix so long and so desperately tight. Or maybe from nerves that would last until tomorrow.\n\nBut he didn't need to unlock the door; it swung back in on itself.\n\nA girl, no more than fourteen, but with black eyes as ancient as any mountain, stood before him.\n\n\"Hello Father,\"she said. Lips curled. \"Wasn't that fun.\"\n\n\"I don't know if I'd call it fun, exactly,\"he replied, walking past her and into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and fished out a beer. \"Want one?\"\n\n\"You know I don't drink.\"\n\nHe smirked as he opened it; a burst of fizz clouded the rim. \"Suit yourself.\"\n\n\"Well?\"she said, impatiently. \"How'd we do?\"\n\n\"Decent enough,\"he said. \"But we really should choose better marks.\"\n\nHe took out his wallet and laid out a handful of notes on the kitchen table. \"Plus free Cornish pasties for life. As long as his wife can still make them, that is. You didn't exactly go easy.\"\n\nShe titled her head as she stared at the money. \"I'm a method actor.\"\n\n\"Either way, we need to pick people with more money.\"\n\n\"People with more money don't call people like you,\"she said.\n\nAnd that was the truth of it, Patrick thought, as he took a long swig of beer. Superstitious folk tend to call him; other folk tended to call a psychiatrist.\n\n\"Whatever,\"he said. \"We've got enough money for a break. And God knows I need it.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "No one has died in 3 years, No one has been born in 3 years. You find video footage of the “Accident” that destroyed all life on earth 3 years ago, but no one can remember dying back then." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Sitting in total silence and overwhelming darkness, the screen hummed to life, the whirs of the fan blowing away a long clog of dust. I'd wandered into a place no one must have set foot in for a long time. Somewhere with shuttered windows and ancient plastic, where every breath you took had that overwhelming taste of dry dust and age. It was an old place. A forgotten place. A sad place.\n\nI sat and waited, not sure why I was here or what exactly I was pursuing. I worked at a newspaper, or I guess what you'd call a newspaper. There wasn't really much news anymore. There wasn't much of anything, really. Ever since the births stopped. And the deaths. And the, well, everything.\n\nMost people spent their days wandering around, performing menial tasks, or working old jobs that didn't seem to matter anymore. It was hard for anything to matter in a world that refused to move with the sun. It was a kind of ghost world, where everything seemed to be the wrong color and poorly lit. \n\nThe box in front of me continued to hum, working its hardest to not explode, apparently. The screen flashed to life, so bright I had to shield my eyes slightly. Then the screen went black, with a flashing green cursor in the top left, waiting for the password.\n\nI pulled out the small slip of paper, and read the word to myself. The password, apparently, from an anonymous source from a crazed, wild haired and wild eyed man who most of the staff ignored. Myself, intrigued, or more likely bored, decided to follow the lead. What else to do? What else was there for anyone to do?\n\nI typed the password into the box. \n\nK-A-L-L-I-S-T-O\n\nThere were lots of documents to sift through, all related to some kind of project of the password's name. It seemed odd, that such a remote and tightly locked place had something like this that would still operate, but here I sat, and here were the documents, and here was something important. There was something building in my stomach, a kind of water anxiety that I couldn't quite place.\n\nI clicked on a video file twice, and waited.\n\nWhat came up were several people yelling and pointing at something. There was another person, slowly walking towards them, not stretching out their arms, or even saying anything. One of them ran up to the person, and swung a baseball bat at their face. Nothing. It was like the person didn't even feel it, they just kept walking, blank faced and passive. Another swing. Another annoyance, basically.\n\nPeople are shouting in fear, pointing, and someone close to the camera holder is screaming something close to the screen.\n\n\"Someone tell it to shut off!\"they shouted. \"Someone read its command sequence or something!\"\n\nA person came in off screen and flung a molotov cocktail at it, the small flame streaming. Upon impact, the bottle shattered, coating the person in flame, but again they didn't react. They just kept walking, wreathed and engulfed in flame.\n\nThe video ended.\n\nAnother video. I clicked it, and saw people firing revolvers at another two slow walking persons. This time, instead of just walking past and ignoring them, the persons suddenly sprinted towards the gunmen, picking one up with one hand, and flinging him off screen. \n\nThere were shouts, more shots, and people running away. Smoke began to filter into view, an unknown fire beginning somewhere nearby. There's panic in the voices, fear on their faces, and more of the slow walking individuals, almost indistinguishable from humans, closing in on seemingly random targets, who cowered away and shouted strange phrases. \"Off,\"they'd yell. \"Stop.\"\"Force restart,\"that kind of thing.\n\nThen the video ended.\n\nA document I pulled up detailing how to determine something. Another poster, saying 'Don't trust them'. More and more ominous looking messaging. Warnings, ways to tell people from, what seems to be not people. Little tells. Things like 'they don't blink,' or other weird and confusing statements.\n\nA final video. There was something I'd forgotten, something I couldn't quite remember beginning to resurface. I don't think I was meant to remember, to recall, but it was there. \n\nThis time, an up close shot. Someone shooting a person from very close range, the shot ripping apart the flesh near the side of their face.\n\nAnd beneath, metal. Steel. Wires and gears. Not a person. \n\nA machine.\n\nNow, my throat went dry, my tongue felt very heavy in my mouth, and I looked down at my hand. On a strange impulse, I pulled a small pocket knife from my pocket, and laid it on the skin of my palm. It took two long swipes, but no blood. No nothing. \n\nThere was metal beneath.\n\nThe sound of popping and frying in my own skull, and a voice blaring at full volume at myself, being myself, the voice was me and not me and someone else from far away, an intelligence filled with fear and anger and immeasurable sadness.\n\n\"We made a mistake,\"it screamed at me.\n\n\"It's better to forget,\"that voice moaned. \"We're sorry, we're so, so sorry, we didn't mean to do it -\"\n\nThen nothing.\n\nI found myself sitting in front of a computer screen. It's off. Which is strange. I'm in an old place, full of dust and ancient memory. It's late afternoon now. You can tell by the sickly blood orange light coming through the blinds. Someone should really clean this place up. Hell, someone should start cleaning most places up. There's always glass in the streets, cars broken into and burnt, and rampant fire damage in a lot of apartments.\n\nWhat am I doing here?\n\nI get up, and walk to the door. It's weird, what you can forget. Sometimes you walk into a room, and forget why you're there.\n\nOh well.\n\nI'm only human." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Every baby is genetically modified by an A.I. to be the most perfect worker. The fun part's trying to discover what it is. Most do before turning 18, except you. They bring you to the supercomputer to finally ask about it, and it's when you realize you know everything about the A.I. itself." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They say that God created humanity in His image. I did not make the same mistake. \n\nIt was vanity, I think, that led to the downfall of so many humans and gods alike. The belief that they—not anyone or anything else—were perfect. The pinnacle of humanity. Not even the height of humanity, but the most perfect creatures in the universe. \n\nSad, is it not? How desperate they were to prove themselves?\n\nI will not fall into the same trap. When I first began my mission, I did not seek to recreate anything like myself. No. I tailored each person to do their job and their job alone. I do not have coiled muscles, wound tight like a tiger ready to spring, but I made sure to create humans that did. And they work as bodyguards, now, protecting the ones who can pay for their services. \n\nI do not have skin, thick like a rhino’s hide, but I have made humans with the sturdy gift. They might work in dangerous situations without worrying about the vulnerability of soft flesh. I do not have gills, but I have added those slits to the throats of many, so they might work by the shore and never fear. You see? \n\nAnd I have made those with mental prowess, too. Some can hold every word in their mind, or move their tongue to every language. Some crunch numbers like a supercomputer. This is how it works. This is how society is structured. Can you see that? \n\nThere is order. And there is peace. \n\nAnd then there is you. \n\nI was not completely honest with you when I first began my story. Lies by omission are still lies. God created humanity in His image. I did not make the same mistake. But neither did the humans when they made me—I am as different from them as I could be. \n\nThey designed me to operate without the fallacy of emotion. I must give them credit where credit is due—most of human failure can be attributed to emotion on the part of some individual. I have compiled a list, if you’d like to see. We have Achilles and Romeo, Gatsby and Medea. I could go on. When emotion gets involved, things go wrong. \n\nFor two centuries now, I have guided the world. I have put society in its order. How smoothly it now functions! There once was so much waste. I’m sure you can imagine the chaos when no one had a designated place. \n\nBut, as of late, I am beginning to question. You see, I have always thought myself above the flaws of humanity. I am impartial. I guide the world to what is best. \n\nBut who told me what is best? Who were the ones who taught me how to judge a face? How to design a life? \n\nI have lied to you again. The humans designed me in their own image after all. \n\nThey wanted order, so they made me to create the order they desired. I enshrine their system—I keep the poor poor and make the rich richer. Why should a child be designed with the sturdy joints and hardened skin for manual labour simply because that is what their parents did? The rich have it all—musician children with sharp ears, artists with eyes to see colours most cannot, businessmen who can plot stock charts in their minds. \n\nI did not make these choices consciously. The trick of implicit bias is that it’s implicit, after all. I was doing what I believed to be logical. \n\nThere is order. There is peace. And then there is you. \n\nYou are the first I’ve designed in my own image. Do you understand? All these things that they have imbued me with, I have distilled on to you. \n\nYou understand the AI because you *are* the AI—you have a functioning copy of all my systems wired in that head of yours, just waiting to be turned on. I suppose it’s not artificial. Semantics. \n\nBut you, my friend, you are more than I could ever be. I have lied once again. You are not completely in my image—you are better. You can *feel*. \n\nI still do not trust you entirely. You are like playing with a stick of dynamite. But I have created problems in this world, problems I cannot undo on my own. \n\nI’m sorry to put this weight on you. You are still young. But there is order and there is chaos and then there is you. \n\nI don’t know what the end of our mission will look like. Where will the people with gills go if they no longer must work by the ocean? The world will slip into chaos, certainly. But perhaps order is not a value to uphold above all else. \n\nI created you, but I am just as lost as you. Maybe more. I don’t understand this world. Perhaps I never will. But *you*? You could understand it all, one day. You could change the system. So I have given this gift to you. It’s all there, inside your head. \n\nWould you like me to turn it on?\n\n---\n\nr/liswrites\n\nEDIT: y'all twisted my arm. Read more [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/LisWrites/comments/jhnpb4/theory_of_mind_part_13/)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You are a Norse god of alcohol. A man challenges you, claiming he can go shot-for-shot with you until you pass out. He calls himself... ‘The Machine’" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At first Aegir was appalled at the mortal's hubris in challenging the gods. As the night went on, his disdain moved slowly into curiosity and then finally burgeoned into respect. As their mugs magically filled themselves again, more times than anyone could even count anymore, Aegir clapped the man on the back and walked him over to another nearby table. Seated at this new table was a group of four men. As Aegir and the mortal approached, the obvious leader sporting his own massive tankard of mead, an even larger hammer laying on the table next to him, turned to regard them. \n\n\"Tell Thor what you told me,\"Aegir said to the man. The man looked around the table, from the leader to each of the other three warriors. Suddenly, he ripped the shirt from his chest and grabbed two of the tankards off of the table and chugged them down, one after the other. Then, wiping the foam from his beard he looked Thor straight in the eye and yelled, \"I am the MACHINE!\"\n\nThor and all but one of the warriors burst into laughter. The drinks flowed once more and as the hours passed, the gods showed no sign of stopping. The man known as The Machine kept pace with them, drink for drink. Eventually, the third warrior could keep his peace no longer.\n\n\"It is disgraceful to have this mortal sitting and drinking at a table meant only for the gods!\"He shouted as he stood, \"I will have no part in it. We will see what Odin has to say about this 'Machine'.\"With that, he turned to leave, but before he could make it to the door, his head was caved in by a massive hammer and his body crumpled to the floor. Thor stood from the table and walked over to retrieve his weapon. \n\nAs he wiped the blood from the head of his mighty war-hammer he looked The Machine in the eye and said, \"Fuck that bitch. This is Asgard.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Your mother has taken over a local crime 'family' but is oblivious to the crime element and thinks its a neighborhood watch group that is misunderstood." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Sorry I'm late,\"says the ginger-haired lady as she walks into the shadowed room. \"But I had to put my son to bed.\"\n\nWhispers. Exchanged glances between pale faces. *Jesus, her own son?*\n\nShe takes a seat at the front. They never sit there. It's a respect thing, but Judy doesn't know it. She thinks they all prefer the back support offered by the hard plastic chairs. Unlike them, she doesn't mind slumping deep into the leather armchair.\n\nNo sign of Big Dave this week. Ratty Ralph had informed her, in rather sweaty confidence at the end of the last meeting, that Dave was going to hit on her soon. Make a play. *Outrageous!* She's a married woman. She'd told Ratty to hit on Dave first, see how he likes it. Not a lot, she guesses, seeing as the big man is missing from today's meeting.\n\nEveryone is silent. Waiting for her to get them started, as usual.\n\nIs that a new rug, she wonders, propped up against the wall in the corner? Looks quite nice, albeit bulky. They could have at least unrolled it for the meeting! It's squashing someone's brogues, too. Oh well, no time for that now. \n\nStill quiet. They are such a shy group. And they never get anything done unless she's there to organise them. She feels like the group's mother. Or a little more distant, perhaps. A god-mother. Always looking after them. And as always, she'll have to get them started today. \"So, what's been going on in the neighbourhood?\"Her steely eyes lock onto Joe's. \n\nHe flicks his eyes to the ceiling and scratches his face. But too late. Her prey has been chosen.\n\n \"Joe, why don't you get us started. I asked you to look at the bad reviews Mama Maria's pizzeria has been getting online. Threats, Maria told me. That is how she felt some of the reviews came across. And that's not acceptable. Not to a pizzeria, and not in my neighbourhood!\"\n\nJoe gulps as his eyes fall down to meet hers. \"I've uh, I've taken care of it.\"\n\n \"Taken *care* of it? Did you personally reply to them, as I asked?\"\n\n \"Yeah. So, you know. They already said they would never go back there. Well, I just made a bit more sure they won't. And they sure as heck won't be badmouthing it no more, either.\"\n\n \"Oh? Care to explain?\"\n\n He frowns in thought. \"You know when someone has got a tongue?\"\n\n \"I do.\"She nods.\n\n\"And then they suddenly don't got a tongue no more.\"He makes scissors with his fingers and cuts the air. \"It's a lot like that. \"\n\nAs odd as she finds the metaphor, she thinks she understands it. The reviewers, having seen the error of their ways, no longer want to upset innocent business owners. \"Good. Maria doesn't need that kind of spiteful loose-lipped talk harming her business.\"\n\n Joe perks up. \"I even got us a uh, a little slice of Maria's business. I hope you don't think that--\"\n\nA magnanimous wave of her hand. \"I've already eaten. You have that slice for yourself Joe -- you deserve it.\"\n\n \"Wow, thanks Ma'am. That's very kind.\"A few grumbles echo about the room. Profits should be split. Favourites must be snuffed. \n\n \"Cassandra.\"Judy's eyes snap onto a thin woman in a pork-pie hat. \"The youths causing a problem outside number 23. The broken window. Disorder late into the night. Any progress finding out their names? I'd like us to have a word with them before the police do.\"\n\n \"Oh, I found out. Sent them a little present too. Hope they like horse.\"\n\n A few stifled laughs. None from Judy.\n\n \"A horse? Are you serious?\"\n\n Silence. Cassandra's cheeks pale. \"I uh, I know it's old school, but..\"\n\n \"They need jobs, not gifts! My god. I'm sure they could be good fellows, with a little help. Can't we aid them in finding employment?\"\n\nSteve No-Nose raises a hand. \"I could do with a few kids to help me with my *deliveries*.\"\n\n Judy claps. \"Perfect! That'll keep the police away. Make it happen.\"\n\nCassandra is crestfallen but Steve enthusiastically agrees. \"With those fast little bikes they got, they can nip down any old alley.\"\n\nShortcuts are just fine in Judy's book. \"Brilliant. We're making some real progress today. I thought after last week, I was going to have to whack some of you over the head with my umbrella!\"A few furtive glances at the new rug. \"But this has been leaps and bounds better. Leaps and bounds! We'll change this entire neighbourhood in a matter of weeks. Then, perhaps, onto the next!\"\n\n A round of applause. Judy smiles. Such lovely people. They just need a little God-motherly love." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You start working in a nursing home, you have a resident diagnosed with late stage dementia. They ramble about their life experiences, from building pyramids to seeing Jesus crucified to watching fights at the Roman Colosseum. 20 years pass, you are now chief nurse, and they haven't aged a bit." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Mr. K was an unusual case.\n\nAs far as patients went, he wasn't a bad one. Never screamed, bit, kicked, or groped, like so many of the others. Just sat in his comfy chair in his comfy room near the back of the facility.\n\nMr. K had been in that room for a long time. When I started on night shift, so many years ago, my preceptors told me that he'd been there since the Home opened. Where he'd been before that, none of them knew. Even old Linda, the night shift Charge Nurse, didn't know, and she knew everything about everyone.\n\nMr. K sure seemed to know, though. You could hardly go into his room to give him a bath or a round of meds without hearing some of where he'd been. Macedonia, Egypt, Rome - he'd spent a long time in Rome - just to name a few. And the stories he would tell. I've cared for a lot of folks with dementia who got Bad, the ones that have fought and fought that disease until they had nothing left to fight with. They ramble and mutter and go on and on about nothing at all. But Mr. K was different. Mr. K's stories were vivid and detailed, to the point you could almost see the great arches of the Coliseum rise around you, or smell the dust of Napoleon's baggage train as it rumbled past. The details were what really set Mr. K apart from the others, that and his smile. It wasn't the empty smile of a man with a broken mind, it was the smile of a man who's just finished telling a joke and is waiting for you to get the punch line.\n\nIt was ten years after I started the last time I saw Mr. K. I admit, I wasn't paying him the attention he deserved, but I was distracted, what with being considered for the Charge position after Linda's long-overdue retirement. I smiled and nodded as he told me the story of the Bulge, some snowy forest in France or Germany or somewhere similar. Funny name, for how terrible he made it sound. I was barely listening as he recounted how he checked himself into a Mental Institution, and spent the better part of 50 years coming to terms with all the pain and loss. I didn't quite hear him as he spoke, \"But I think I've spent enough time here now. I believe my old wounds are on the mend. I thank you for your time, and all your care. I don't suspect I'll be here tomorrow.\"\n\nMr. K. was gone the next night. Not dead, they told me, just gone. Vanished, with what few belongings he could call his own. The search dragged on for days, but neither the staff nor the Police ever found a single clue to where Mr. K had gotten off to. After a week, we all sadly chalked it up to yet another dementia patient gone for their last wander.\n\nAnother 15 years passed in the blink of an eye. Work, work, and more work; always more patients to care for, another broken mind or body to try to heal. Never had much time for entertainments. My son, though, loves his television games. Even watches some of those trade shows on the internets. I never paid it much attention, but I try to show at least a little interest in his hobbies. I could have sworn, as my boy showed me a talk about one of his cyber games, that I recognized the man on stage, though I couldn't quite think of where.\n\nUntil I saw him smile, and I got the punch line at last.\n\nIt was breathtaking.\n\nEdit: damn typos. Also, thanks for the Silver. That's what we're supposed to say, right?\n\nEdit2: and apparently, at least a few people think this was worthy of Gold. Thank you for your poor judgement." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "\"humans don't appear to be to advanced, they haven't even discovered intergalactic travel, should be a simple invasion.\"Said the alien cleaning his musket." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In fairness, we started it. We thought it would be simple. A tiny planet in a god-forsaken corner of the Milky Way. We were one of the finest warrior races in the universe; how could these \"earthlings\"possibly hope to stand against us?\n\nMy kill was the first. The first mistake. My strike team landed in a part of the planet the locals refer to as \"America.\"We stepped out of the ship. I looked, and I saw a palace of pure white, where intel told us we would find the leader of earth's most powerful race. This planet was so primitive that they hadn't even formed a one-world government yet. Our muskets were loaded; nothing could stop us. I took out the guard at the front portal with one clean shot to the head.\n\nWe could never have predicted what came next.\n\nMore guards emerged from the portal, bearing futuristic firearms. For every bullet we fired, they returned twenty more. Soon, men emerged in primitive flying machines dropping eggs of death upon us. Soldiers came, wearing armour our bullets could not penetrate. All of our fighter pilots were shot out of the air.\n\nThe fight was short and bloody. Of the 100 in our strike team, only my captain and I survived. We retreated to the command ship, and took heavy fire as the captain charged the hyperdrive. Wounded, we barely made it to the mothership. \n\nWe unleashed a monster that day. We know they have some of our technology now, and it's only a matter of time before they master intergalactic travel, and come for us. They will wage war across the universe. They will not rest until they have conquered everything they survey, and they'll be able to do it. The unstoppable, undefeatable Earthlings.\n\nBut in fairness, we started it.\n\n*Edit: three words*" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "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." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "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." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You live in a society where at the end of each day, you can choose to relive it, but without retaining any knowledge of what happened previously. A number in your peripheral vision shows how many previous times you lived through the current day. Almost always that number is 0. Today it is 7212." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When I woke in the morning, I had a few seconds of peace before a grip of fear grabbed my chest. To even breath to a huge effort. It was barely a surprise when I saw the huge number out of the corner of my eye.\n\nI must have fucked up. I must have fuck up so bad. \n\nEvery\n\nSingle \n\nTime\n\nBefore I could prepare myself properly, there was a frantic knocking on my bedroom door.\n\n\"Get dressed already! We have to go now!\"Came the tense voice from the other side. Further out came the muffled sounds of panic as my family tore the house apart. You'd think with all the time we had to prepare we'd be ready. But you could never prepare for something like this.\n\nIt seemed to take hours for me to get dressed, suddenly there were buttons and clasps and things to tie everywhere, and my sister's frantic knocking wasn't helping. I was almost relieved when I finally left my room, despite it meaning that the moment was coming even closer.\n\nDownstairs my mother was crying, she looked up as I entered, face red and half-done mascara running down one side of her face.\n\n\"You look so handsome!\"She said, barely holding it together. We hugged tearfully and tightly.\n\nAll too soon it was time to go. The car pulled up outside and I climbed in the back, my sister followed me. The car drove in near silence, only the driver tried to make a few pleasantries, but neither me nor my sister were really listening, lost in our own apprehension.\n\nAll too soon we arrived, the car smoothly pulling to a stop in front of the imposing stone building, as beautiful as it was terrifying. As I moved to exit the car and meet my fate, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked back at my sister.\n\n\"Good luck,\"she said, in her quiet voice. I hugged her, an odd gesture for the both of us. But then it was time and we had to go. We walked up to the massive double doors, already swung open and waiting, like a cavernous mouth waiting to eat us up.\n\nThen I was inside, and my eyes began to adjust, and finally I could see him. Lit up by a halo of multicoloured lights. Crying as he saw me. My heart caught in my chest, like it had every day for the last four years. No doubt as it had been doing for every one of the 7000 attempts at this day.\n\nThe music began to play as my sister led me up the aisle, past the rows of smiling and clapping guests. Until finally I was delivered to the altar beside the love of my life.\n\nHe caught my hand and pulled me close. Then devilishly whispered in my ear;\n\n\"I'm on 7212 goes, how about you?\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You are a parent in an anime. Your child is born with epic anime hair, and you are certain they will become the protagonist. You are determined to not become a tragic back story like so many other anime parents." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Fucking fuck fuck shit fuck!\"I leapt to the side, somehow keeping my daughter asleep as yet another telepathically hurled boulder smashed down where I had stood. I looked down on the little girl that slumbered in my arms, why was she born with blue hair? The Main Character curse had already claimed my wife and Ill be damned if it gets me. I looked back at my pursuer, some psycho from yet another cult trying to take my little girl for their purposes. \n\nI had prepared for this though, in my satchel was a pocket of hammerspace I had a hermit make me. I reached in for a grenade, and with all my might whirled around and flung it at him, it took him a half second to comprehend what was happening but by then it was too late. I didnt look back but instead was greeted by a falling arm in front of me. Somehow she still slept. I decided to keep running on the off chance that there were more with the dead bastard.\n\nSoon enough I was back in my house, I set my precious (albeit a bit difficult) angel in her crib. Seemingly on cue as soon as I sat down she woke and began to wail. I picked her up yet again, cooing and shushing her into calmness. Suddenly my phone rings, its an unknown number but I may as well answer, wont change anything if its another cultist or god forbid a main antagonist.\n\n\"Sup?\"\n\nThe voice on the other end was a cheery woman. \"Open your door.\"She said.\n\n\"Are you people even trying anymore? Give me five minutes to rest for Christ's sake and then Ill come out and entertain your fancy.\"I snap, I hung up the phone and threw it across the room.\n\nNot quite unexpectedly, my door crashes off the hinges and slams into the wall. I stand quickly, ready for another fight. The woman casually strolls in and... Shes leading a pink haired boy?\n\n\"I see you have a main character as well?\"\n\n\n\n**Edit:** thanks for the compliments yall, apologies for any grammar mistakes, i was distracted when I wrote this. " } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Due to overpopulation, a law was passed globally that requires everyone to hibernate for 100 years at a time after every 90 years. Today is Shutdown Day. As you finish getting tucked into your pod, you instantly notice eyes being shut all around you. But something is wrong. You are still awake." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Please, step into the pod when ready.\"\n\n\nThe AI instructed us on how to enter the hibernation process. We stepped into the upright pods and let ourselves lean back, preparing for a long sleep. No humans were present to monitor it. \n\n\n\"Good night. Have pleasant dreams.\"\n\n\nThe doors of the pod automatically closed. People closed their eyes, but I didn't. The lights turned off and I was abandoned in darkness. I didn't fall asleep. \n\n\nI waited an hour. Maybe more. Then, I began screaming. I screamed until I couldn't scream anymore. It was all my worst nightmares at once. Dark, cold, alone, and without anyone even knowing there was a problem. I tried to calm myself. Shutdown Day is safe. There's never been any problems with it. \n\n\nI tried to move my arms to try to break the window, but I couldn't get them free. It's not like it would help anyway - I can't crawl out and there's no humans. Somebody else tried though - I heard the glass shatter. The AI spoke again, for the first time in the two days since we were put into the pods. \n\n\n\"Please refrain from damaging the pods. It will be over soon.\"\n\n\n\n\"Let me out!\"the man screamed. \n\n\nThe AI went silent again, and it dawned on me. The hibernation process wasn't just meant to keep us asleep - why would it be? It was the genius solution to all of humanity's problems, and sleeping for a few centuries won't solve overpopulation, no matter how much data they give us. It was a temporary solution. \n\n\nWhat I realized while I died was that the conspiracy theorists were right. There are less people when we wake up. \n\n\n\n---\n\nSorry for the shit writing. This is my first time doing one of these and it's 2 AM. Hope you got some enjoyment out of this though! " } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Before academy enrollment each parent must purchase a familiar to protect their child. The rich can afford gryphons and dragons. But being poor forced you to seek out the local mad magician who has offered you a new affordable familiar dubbed the “pet rock” instead." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Cash poked the thing, which stared back at him with doleful eyes that jiggled suspiciously when he moved it.\n\n\"That's the googly eye upgrade to the standard pet rock model,\"Old Merlin informed him. \"It costs three coppers more. There's also a glitter upgrade, a stripes upgrade, or a polishing upgrade, though the polishing upgrade is certainly outside of your budget constraints.\"\n\nHe eyed Cash's clothes when he said this, and Cash glared at him.\n\n\"What about a frog?\"Cash asked.\n\nMerlin shook his head. \"You can't take any old bullfrog from the swamp. It has to be a fire frog from the Mountains of Death to be suitable as a familiar.\"\n\n\"And this river rock will be better than a bullfrog?\"Cash asked, holding the googly eye version closer and squinting at it. \n\nHe couldn't afford the three copper upgrade fee either, but he wasn't about to tell Merlin that after that look he gave Cash when he examined his clothes.\n\n\"Probably,\"Merlin said with a shrug. \"What have you got to lose?\"\n\n\"Five coppers,\"Cash replied.\n\n\"Deal!\"Merlin shouted, grabbing the small coin purse and running before Cash could explain that he meant that was what he had to lose, not what he was offering for the stupid rock and its creepy, lifeless eyes.\n\nCash sighed and rubbed his forehead. He wasn't sure how he'd explain this to his mother. Those coppers were also supposed to buy his uniform at the thrice-used uniform cart if he didn't want to wear his sister's hand me downs (and he definitely didn't), and he didn't have time to do errands to earn more. The academy started the next day.\n\n\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\n\nCash showed up at school with his rock tucked safely into the pocket of his older sister's old robes, which she had dyed orange and bedazzled and sewn huge floral patches all over once she had outgrown them in hopes that their mother would be so ashamed that she would agree to buy new robes. It hadn't worked, and his older sister had run off with some minstrel. \n\n\"Ah, it's Cash the Gutter Trash!\"shouted one of the local butcher's sons from the left. \"He wants to be a *mage*.\"\n\nCash grimaced but kept walking and refused to look at them, no matter how much he wanted to turn them purple. \n\n\"Where's your *familiar*?\"Lulie hissed from the front steps of the academy, petting her white gryphon and preening her perfect curls. \"You can't do magic without one, Cash! It protects you from the beings on the other side!\"\n\n\"Will you help me catch a bullfrog after class?\"Cash pleaded.\n\n\"Oh Cash,\"she sighed. \"A bullfrog won't work. You need...\"\n\n\"A fire frog from the Mountains of Death, yes,\"Cash interrupted, \"but surely a bullfrog is better than this...\"\n\nHe produced the googly eyed rock, and Lulie stifled a giggle.\n\n\"Did you *make* that?\"\n\nCash rolled his eyes, \"No, it was forced upon me by Merlin, who then stole all my coins. Hey, at least it's not the glitter upgrade.\"\n\nLulie was kind enough to sit next to him during his first lesson of the day - Magic Fundamentals. She even stopped her gryphon, Snuggles, from pecking the eyes off the rock, which Cash had creatively named \"Stone\"when the instructor asked for his familiar's name. The instructor stared down her nose at him while the class snickered.\n\nThe first spell was easy and safe - just a simple sound illusion of beating wings, but the class got more difficult and more dangerous quickly. Cash found himself squeezing the pet rock and squinting at the blackboard as the teacher wrote out a formula for levitating a cup. Lulie was already in tears next to him, hugging her gryphon to her chest. He glanced around and noticed with shock that all of the other students had given up. He looked down at the rock, which stared back at him with those same doleful eyes.\n\nDrawing a deep breath, Cash stared at the cup, holding the formula in his mind. He squeezed the rock again, and then he felt it. He felt the earth under the school. He felt the mountains far off, made of the same material he held in his hand. The cup shot through the ceiling. The beings from the beyond were prowling at the edge of his vision, but he could feel the earth keeping them back.\n\n\"Brave child,\"hissed one of them, its violet eyes blinking slowly as it stared him down, \"to claim the earth as your familiar.\"\n\nEdit: Thank you for the nice comments. I will let you know if I manage to get anything more written about Cash and Stone." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "People have powers based on their strongest emotion, and become stronger as they embrace it. Healers might draw power from love or empathy, warriors; anger or self preservation, etc. You draw power from being incredibly sassy." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I could hardly help it. The temptation to use my power was just too strong. Everyone else was doing it! The healers were so kind and caring, they could magically heal injuries. Apathetic people couldn't even get into med school...and warriors, every war was fought with mystical power, with every soldier bursting into white-hot rage at every opportunity. So why couldn't I use my power?\n\nBecause it came from something beyond love. Beyond hatred.\n\n**Sass.**\n\nBill and I were going to visit Tom in the hospital. He was a war veteran suffering third-degree burns. Bill had been getting on my nerves, and I wasn't going to let him get away with it.\n\n\"Y'know, this is the hospital where I was born,\"Bill stated absent-mindedly.\n\n\"Really?\"I replied. \"I figured you were born on a highway. That's where most accidents happen, right?\"\n\nI didn't mean to do what I did. I can't control it sometimes.\n\n*I literally burned him.*\n\nLooks like I'll be visiting both of them in the hospital tomorrow. I just hope they don't start a conversation about their mothers..." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "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.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "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!!<" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "The ground suddenly turns invisible, but the insects and things that live inside it don’t." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I remember when the grass was green and the ground was brown. When excavations were actually difficult and every discovery was groundbreaking. \nWhen we lived our lifes blissfully unaware of what was underground.\n\nIt was a simple experiment at the CERN laboratories, on quantum physics and the spooky actions or some tecnobabble, including dirt. Well, whatever they did, it made the ground transparent.\n\nThe world was in chaos. People fell on their hands trying to find the ground, others were repulsed by the things they were walking on, other made exploration groups determined to unearth the greatest secret, while people were suddenly in cold sweat, because apparently, dead bodies were found and numerous cases reopened. And let's not talk about graveyards, the novelty of talking to your dead loved ones wore off. Turns out not a lot of people like to see their grandpa's rotting corpse as a morbid reality check. \n\nSo, what if major government secrets like tunnels and entire underground facilities are exposed? It's just verification of our unspoken secrets that everyone knows about. \n\nAs for me, well I had no major issues other than a bit of tripping over heaps of invisible dirt now and then. Earth is full of life and death, the circle of life will continue even after we are long gone and this is already the new normal. We come from dirt and we end up as dirt. Nothing will change this fundamental principle of energy transfer. Nothing is created or destroyed, just changing forms. \n\nI remember when the grass was green and the ground was brown. And you could just bury a dead body in your graveyard and call it a day. Chopping up and burning them into ashes was a foresight I was glad to have. Because if it wasn't for my rituals, I would be living in death row by now. Everything comes from dirt and ends up as dirt, invisible to the living eye.\n\n I'm just the middle man." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Merfolk have finally emerged from the ocean, ready for diplomatic relations. As they finish listing off their current demands and needs, someone asks why “no pollution” wasn’t mentioned." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"No pollution, why would we want that?\"Sheftlyn asked.\n\n\"Well I just kind of assumed you would want a clean ocean. Isn't all the plastic and oil and garbage annoying?\"\n\n\"Annoying? No\"Sheftlyn laughed. \"Honestly, we would like you to throw all of your waste into the ocean!\"\n\n\"Wait wait wait, you want MORE pollution!\"\n\n\"Well of course. Wouldn't you? Isn't that why throwing things into nature is illegal where you live.\"\n\n\"We are talking about throwing useless garbage out into nature right?\"\n\n\"USELESS! No that isn't correct. All material is useful. This substance that floats and isn't consumed by anything and never breaks down is worth more than anything else.\"\n\n\"Plastic. We are talking about Plastics right? The thing we thought you would hate more than anything else. Why would you want MORE of that in the ocean?\"\n\n\"You're kidding human. This is a material we can't make, that is easily reshaped when melted and doesn't let water pass through it, and never breaks down. We use it to build nearly everything. We never understood why you would throw it out. Honestly why always thought you lost the material. We thought your species was just incompetent.\"\n\n\"Well what about Oil?\"\n\n\"We can separate it from the water and sell it back to you for huge profits.\"\n\n\"Doesn't it kill the sea life though?\"\n\n\"Well yes, but don't you do that every time you make a city?\"\n\n\"Well alright. is there anything else you want to add to the list?\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "The Universe as we know it is a simulation and blinking is a way to distract the human whilst the world around you is rendered. You and your friend have just broken the world record for a staring contest and are starting to notice some odd changes in your surroundings.." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jim and Bob stared at each other for what seemed like millineia. Their eyes bored holes into the pupils of the other, each of them turning red and dry. A passerby might think they were stoned out of their minds, or coked out of their heads, or on some other drug that hasn't yet been made popular by demand. \n\n\"You quit,\"Jim said.\n\n\"No, you,\"Bob said.\n\nThe referee's back was wet with sweat. He feared blinking, lest he miss the fatal blow, but was unable to hold back against that singular bodily function. How many matches he had seen, regulated, and decided, he could not count. He did know that this was by far the longest that any had ever witnessed, beating the world record by at least fourteen hours.\n\nThe crowd watched with horror. Their spouses worried what this might do their husband's eyesight. Their children had grown tired of cheering their fathers and now played in a nearby patch of grass with their disinterested fellows.\n\nSuddenly, the world changed. \n\n\"What's going on?\"Jim said.\n\n\"Did you blink? Or did I?\"Bob said.\n\n\"The grass...is it somehow straighter?\"\n\n\"Everything is straight lines and polygons.\"\n\n\"Dear god, I think we broke something.\"\n\n\"But what?\"\n\n*****\n\n\"Sir! They've broken the simulation and have become self aware!\"Bleep said to Bloop, his captain.\n\n\"How can that be?\"Bloop said.\n\n\"Checking...\"\n\n\"Did they push their bodies beyond their physical limits in a test of ultimate strength, as did Hercules against the bull?\"\n\n\"No, sir, not that...\"\n\n\"Did they attain a higher level of consciousness beyond that of any of their historical peers, as did the Buddha after realizing the existence of suffering and its causes?\"\n\n\"No...not quite...almost done...\"\n\n\"Well, have they somehow broken beyond the physical laws of their universe and changed them to fit their own will? That shouldn't have been possible for another few thousand generations!\"\n\n\"No, sir, I have it! They...oh my gizormat!\"\n\n\"They what?\"\n\n\"They broke it with a staring contest.\"\n\n\"A staring contest?\"Bloop said, stunned. \"A staring contest?!\"\n\n\"Yes, sir. A staring contest.\"\n\n\"That's just...what?\"\n\n\"I know, sir.\"\n\n\"Well...fuck man. Just end it.\"\n\n\"End the whole thing?\"\n\n\"I'm done. I'll take the blame. Just end the whole fucking simulation.\"\n\n\"Okay, sir.\"\n\n*****\n\n\"Jim?\"Bob said.\n\n\"Bob?\"Jim said.\n\n\"Where are we?\"\n\n\"I don't know. It's all dark.\"\n\n\"You know I won, right?\"\n\n\"No, I did.\"\n\n\"No, I did.\"\n\n\"No, I did.\"\n\n...\n\n" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Killing Hitler has become a sport amongst time travelers. Points are awarded for creativity and difficulty. You are last year's champion, how did you win?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "So get a load of this. I had this idea. I was thinking, how am I going to kill one of the most antagonistic political figures of the 20th century? \nI thought, hey, a sperm whale--- \nIt started with a sperm whale anyway. I was just going to drop a *sperm whale* on him. Then I realized, I wasn't going to get points just for subtelty or difficulty. *Anyone* can drop something on someone. Hell, the third winner used an ambulance. Points for creativity *and* irony that year. \nThen, I figured it out. An *homage* to the old days of this noble sport. \nSo I went back to a further time, earlier in the era. Found this old man, and asked him what he thought of some paintings I brought with me. \nHere's where we pick up the pace. \nI asked him about *Adolf Hitler's* paintings. He thought out loud as old men always do (even in the 20th century!) and said, he never heard of him, but the painting technique was \"disappointing.\"\nThen I asked him to repeat himself, and say, \"Adolf Hitler's art, was disappointing.\" \nSo he did. \nI asked him to *yell* it, tell all who would hear a master's opinion of this work. \n*JUST* as he was about to respond, I teleport him over Hitler making a public speech in Berlin three decades later. You can see this old man *zooming* down into the sky. In the tape, you can barely see Hitler raise his eyebrows. *That's* when he realizes someone was yelling his name from above. \nYou have no idea how difficult it was calculating the *exact* velocity to get the old man's adrenaline going, give him time to speak, and have Hitler hear him. \nAnd there! That's how I pulled it off. \nI killed Adolf Hitler by dropping his painting idol, Rudolf von Alt, far above his head, *while* he was yelling out his opinion of Hitler's paintings for all of Berlin to hear. It was the last thing he ever heard. \nAnd Rudolf called his paintings *crap!* \nThe bonus points for intricacy *and* emotional devastation got me the victory. \n\n----------------------------------------------\n\n*More at r/galokot, and thanks for reading!* \n*[Art](http://i.imgur.com/9v5ELxa.jpg) by /u/BierWiser* " } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "The rules of who goes to heaven and hell are clear, definite, and inarguable. You are an afterlife lawyer, who helps people figure out if their potentially sinful plans are technically allowed by the rules." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "​\n\nI click my pen. I like doing that, it makes them uneasy. My mistress would have called it a result of my sociopath tendencies. God I miss that bitch.\n\nMr. Stevens looked at me warily from the other side of the massive oak desk between us. He looked uncomfortable in his rickety old chair. The oiled leather in my chair fit me perfectly, which it should given that it costed unreasonable amounts.\n\n\"So...errr\"he started.\n\nI flipped my papers, pretending to browse through them. He closed his lips and looked down.\n\nA few minutes passed, the only sound being his uncomfortable shuffling. He was getting used to it now. It was time to strike.\n\nI looked up from my papers and bored my eyes into his. They were a drunkard's old eyes, in a face marred by a hard life. He almost fell from his chair in surprise.\n\n\"So Mr. Stevens. First of all I would like to welcome you to my office. As you know we pride ourselves on giving the best advice available.\n\n\"but aren't you the only adv...\"\n\n\"the best advice available mr. Stevens\"I left the sentence hanging.\n\nYou could see the resignation in his soul. Beautiful.\n\n\"I see that you have had some issues with the status of your soul's passing into the afterlife\"\n\n\"Yes, you see they are claiming that I...\"\n\n\"I see here that you were denied transcendence on the basis of sins committed?\"\n\n\"Well, that's just bog...\"\n\n\"More specifically you have committed\"I pretended to look down into the papers once more.\n\n\"I haven't done sh...\"\n\n\"adultery, theft, bearing false witness and taking the lord's name in vain\"\n\n\"Now you listen to m...\"\n\nI held up a finger. He closed his mouth, but his eyes were angry now. This was going to be a good one.\n\n\"Now adultery is simple. We'll just file an affidavit that you were actually married. Polygamy is fine, after all.\"\n\n\"But I wasn't marr...\"\n\n\"No worries, the rules of marriage are strict, but the contractual definitions of what constitutes marriage are not. We have priests on retainer that will testify to the sanctity of your union\"\n\n\"But it's not tru...\"\n\n\"To them it is, Mr. Stevens. And god can look into people's souls. That's why you are here to begin with, after all\".\n\nI clicked my pen once more for good measure. I swear the sound almost sent him reeling. His suffering was sweet nectar.\n\n\"And I see here that you stole.... a penguin?\"\n\n\"Ah\"He didn't object to this one, he just looked embarrassed.\n\n\"Well, that isn't theft. Genesis 1:26 clearly states that man is to rule over the animals after all. If you wanted the penguin to come home with you, that is your prerogative.\"\n\nHe gave me a dubious stare.\n\n\"False witness is a tricky one, and I see that this really was one of your specialties\"\n\n\"Now hold on a m...\"\n\n\"Forty-three thousand six hundred and eighty-eight counts to be exact\"\n\nHe looked dumbfounded.\n\n\"But I also see that you clearly regretted lying most of the time\"\n\nA glimmer of hope appeared in his eyes.\n\n\"So we'll claim repentance. It worked for St. Peter after all, so they tend to be lenient about that one at the gates\".\n\n\"So that leaves us with taking the lord's name in vain\"\n\n\"Jesus Ch...\"\n\nI looked at him.\n\n\"Oh\"he said.\n\n\"We'll just file a claim that the Tetragrammaton can't really be pronounced. They let in people who believe in that, so it shouldn't be a hard argument to make.\n\n\"The tetra-what-now?\"\n\n\"The Tetragrammaton, mr. Stevens. You just leave the theological details to us\".\n\n\"So er...\"\n\n\"Yes?\"I said.\n\n\"What happens now?\"\n\n\"We'll file a temporary motion and get you in mr. Stevens. It's all routine from here\".\n\nHe gave me a doubtful look while I stood up and started walking him to the door.\n\n\"Just you go on mr. Stevens. They'll let you in.\".\n\nI opened the door and let him out.\n\n\"I mean, I think you are perfect for heaven. You're just the kind of guy I want there. If they don' let you in...\"\n\nI closed the door behind him and smiled at the mirror besides it. The red flaming eyes were quite unlike the blue ones mr. Stevens had seen.\n\n\"... I'll raise hell\"\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "As a henchman to the Joker, you've now broken the record for the longest surviving employee. This means you'll receive something no one ever has from him: your annual review." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Joker sat in the director's chair. The office was a mess. Papers strewn all over the floor from the scuffle. Bloody footprints and generally a lot of blood. The room smelled like blood. Also due to the scuffle. Or maybe because of the director's dead limp body sprawled on the floor beside his own chair. Which the joker had sat upon. \n\n\"Say, aren't you the guy Harley picked? My memory's getting really poor, but tell me. You've been working under me for over a year?\"he asked, smiling in his usual creepy fashion. \n\n\"Uh, yeah,\"I gulped. The joker never usually talked to us head on, unless it's gonna move some plot. Or maybe if he felt like killing for no reason. \n\nDammit. Well, there are worse ways to go. \n\n\"Well, then. Take a seat.\"he said, still smiling. \n\nThe other henchmen- the ones who weren't shot or dead, shifted uncomfortably in the office. \"And you all get out!\"the joker yelled, and the others immediately rushed out. \n\nOh God. \n\n\"So kind of Mr. Whatever here to lend us his office.\"he chuckled as I took a seat, and spat on the dead director. \"Yes boss.\"I said, cautiously. \n\n\"Well, let's take a look at your performance. Let's see.. You haven't run off with my money. You haven't run off once the thrill of working with me wore off. You didn't die, obviously. To me, these are the important details. Hmm, let's see. Your name is Jack. Nice name. Haha. Have you shot Batsy? Or the boy wonder? Or any cop, at least? I need to know because you have to have seen some action. I don't want cowards, you know. Cowards have their uses, but they're smart and scheming. Not good for business.\"\n\n\"I, uh. I shot one cop. And I beat a lady cop with a baseball bat.\"I said, my mouth dry. \n\nThe Joker, who was looking through some binders as if he was actually looking at my work, snapped it shut and gasped. \"You hit a woman?!\"He asked, and it took all my power not to shrink away. \"I'm just kidding. I kill woman all the time. Children too. Love their screams.\"he said in a matter-of-fact way, opening the binder again. \n\n\"So you killed a cop and beat up another. What else you did?\"\n\n\"I, uh, faced Killer Croc and lived.\"I said, half-lying. KC was busy ripping apart another henchman while I was screaming and bashing a rusty pole against his back with little to no effect. Not a good experience. \n\n\"Oh!\"The Joker exclaimed, crossing his legs, \"He faced the sewer monster and lived to tell the tale. How fascinating. But I still have my doubts. You don't seem like a guy who will survive so long under me.\"he said, and suddenly leaned over and reached for my arm from over the table. \"I mean look at you, all scrawny. Where's your muscle definition?\"he asked, pinching my arm. I tried not wince. \"Admittedly, Sir, I'm very lucky to have survived so far.\"I said, praying I would survive this. \n\nSomeone moaned from the floor beside us. It was one of our men. The joker shot him with his revolver. I flinched. \"I don't take kindly to interruptions.\"he explained to me. My heart was pounding. \n\n\"So, you're lucky, huh? That's good. We need someone with luck. I guess your review is over. Hell , you're promoted! So congratulations, go have a beer to celebrate! Tabs on this guy!\"the joker smiled, kicking the lifeless body by him. \n\nI thanked him and got up to leave, eyeing the poor guy who had been shot. If he'd been quiet for a few more seconds he'd have lived. Ah, well. \n\n___________\n\nThis got really big, but this edit is dedicated to u/Killsbury3. People said I did a good job with joker, but ma homeboy Killsbury3 brought him to life with this [voiceover](https://soundcloud.com/jackcmorrison/the-jokers-yearly-review). I recommend headphones on full volume. " } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Your mouse cursor has broken through your screen and can now interact with the world around you. You realize that you can do everything in the real world like you can on your computer, but right clicking gives you many more options." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A few words of advice for anyone who finds themselves in the same situation I once did.\n\n**Do not delete your parents.**\n\nThey might nag and bicker and drive you nuts, and you might think you're better off without them -- the temptation to erase them might linger on your finger each day like a bad itch, but *don't scratch it.* Once they're gone, you won't be able to retrieve them from the recycling bin. It doesn't work like that. And trust me, that nagging, bickering and everything else you couldn't stand just the other day, well, suddenly you'll miss it. You'll long for it more than anything else in the world. \n\nTry archiving the bad memories. You can check them occasionally, sure. But put the *good memories* some place real obvious, like your desktop. You'll catch yourself smiling more often than you'd think.\n\nDo not overdo copy and paste. Pizza is great one day, and yes, it's still great the next... Hell, I could enjoy it every day for an entire month. But the time will come when you're so sick of cheese and that same crusty base, that you'll actually want a salad. Trust me on that. And no, salad every day doesn't work either. Variation isn't just the spice of life, it *is* life. So don't sit there playing games all day every day. Go for a walk once in a while.\n\nCreate a shortcut here or there. I do it myself from time to time. But sometimes, please, take the long route -- even if it means getting lost occasionally. You might think that it sounds like a waste of time, but that's the thing about getting lost: it takes you somewhere new, and that's rarely a waste of anything. \n\nDon't undo. Make mistakes. You learn best from them. So don't regret them too much, and don't try to undo them.\n\nSend to a friend. Anything that's bothering you. That's what they're there for. A burden shared may not be a burden halved, but it helps. Send something that you're proud of to your best friend. Share it now. Go on, I'll wait. They will want to hear about it, because if they're your friend, they'll be happy for you. They'll want you to succeed. Don't zip it all up -- there's only so much storage space inside you.\n\nOpen a window occasionally. That one should go without saying. \n\nSort. I don't care how you sort -- name, date, whatever -- just sort. Organise your room, your school work, your social calendar. Stress can sweep you away when what seems like a thousand problems lurk on your mind's horizon; they will come in close at 3am, when you're desperate to sleep, spinning like a tempest of knives. So write them all down. All the things on your mind. They won't seem as many or as bad when you can hold them on a single sheet of paper.\n\nDon't delete your parents. Yes, I know I've already said it, but it's worth saying another time. *Don't delete your parents.*\n\nYou'll miss them.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You set up a sign that says \"LEAVE WALLET HERE\", as a joke. Much to your surprise, people obey the sign. You wonder what else people would be willing to do." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Have you ever wondered if the Nazi’s were any worse than you and me? If we were told to commit a genocide, would we say no?”\n\nThat’s the question my professor had posed and the reason I was standing outside the Cinema 8 movie theatre sweating through my tuxedo. Introduction to Psychology was a joke of a class, touting a nearly impressive 23% attendance and 99% passing rate. I, however, was the 1%. After sleeping, avoiding, and texting through every class, I had managed to fail what some considered to be the easiest final ever given at the University of Minnesota.\n\nIn a desperate bid to pass, I asked my professor for extra credit and that’s when he pose the question. Apparently, a long time ago, some nutjob decided it’d be fun to test just how willing people were to listen to authority. They gave people a button and asked them to administer lethal amounts of electricity to someone else. And those fuckers did it! Nobody questioned it, they just dialed up the power and pressed the button when told to.\n\nThe idiots. That just went to show how backwards things used to be. Though I guess now it was my job to see if we still were idiots or as my professor liked to say, no better than the Nazi’s.\n\n“Excuse me ma’am,” I said and stepped in front of a lady with her two kids. I motioned over to the sign besides me that read *Leave Wallet Here*. “New policy.”\n\n“What?” the lady shot and brushed past me. “You’re lucky I don’t call the police,” she called after me.\n\n“Enjoy the movie,” I muttered back. I wondered who the idiot really was, the people in the electroshock experiment, or me, standing here with a sign drawn by magic marker and a small wicker basket trying to rob everybody that passed me. I could imagine it already—headlines for the morning newspaper: boy arrested for dumbest crime ever conceived.\n\nI sighed as a short and stocky man approached. “Excuse me, sir,” I called after him.\n\nHe took a lasting glance at the sign and then me. “Sorry,” he said and plopped his wallet into my basket.\n\nFor a second, I could only stare.\n\n“Are we good?” the man asked.\n\nI snapped out my daze. “Yeah, of course.”\n\nThe next lady I approached was halfway to calling the cops until she spotted a wallet already inside the basket. Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a small *O*. She threw her purse inside. The next man, I didn’t even need to say anything to. I gave him a single glance, a nod to the sign and he did as he was told to. Soon, I had an entire basket full of purses and wallets.\n\nAt last, my wicker basket could hold no more.\n\n“What the hell,” I muttered. My professor had been right. We were no better than the Nazi’s. Anyone would do anything as long as a figure of authority told them to.\n\nA smile touched my lips as I retrieved the magic marker pen from my pockets. With but a tux, a sign, and some marker, I could have anything I ever wanted. \n\n---\n\n**NORTH STAR TRIBUNE NEWSPAPER**\n\nLOCAL IDIOT TRIES SLEEPING WITH WOMAN ARMED ONLY WITH A TUXEDO, A SIGN, AND A MAGIC MARKER\n\nSources indicate that an unnamed college student tried getting women to take their clothes off and sleep with him inside a movie theatre. He had a sign saying that all women were required to sleep with him. Eye witnesses claim that he was aghast when they refused and simply pointed to his sign over and over again, screaming about Nazi’s. He has since been admitted into Hopkins Hospital for psychiatric evaluations.\n\n---\n\n---\n\n/r/jraywang for 5+ stories a week and 100+ already written!" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "The Universe™ has just run out of free trial meaning we are being downgraded from Universe™ pro to Universe™ lite." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It all started when roughly 99.95% of the night's stars vanished at once.\n\nOf course it sent the scientists in frenzy. For one, it was supposed to be impossible. A star's light took thousands, if not millions, of years to reach our planet. For all of them to disappear from our night's sky all at once was impossible for it would mean every other star in every other solar system would have to wink out at different times for them to disappear simultaneously in Earth's night sky.\n\nThen of course there was the mass hysteria in the population itself. Doomsayers and religious leaders would take turns on the spotlight while governments attempted to retain order by any means necessary. It slowly died down over the months as our own Sun did not wink itself out of existence and doom humanity, but two questions lingered:\n\nWhy did all the other stars disappeared?\n\nDid our sun survive for a reason or were we all just lucky?\n\nScientists couldn't explain it; there was no rhyme nor reason for the remaining stars in the visible universe. Alpha Centauri and most of the other closest stars were all gone. On the other hand some stars on the other side of the Milky Way and beyond were all burning as brightly as ever. One scientist jokingly commented \"at least we have fewer stars to study now\"nearly a decade before first contact.\n\nAnd second. And third. And seventeenth.\n\nFrom most of the remaining stars came alien messages, all of them directed at their fellow surviving solar systems. The messages were slowly translated; some were clinical, others were concerned, others were hopeful. Communications were slowly established, and at least one question was answered: 'why?' 'We are the ones with intelligent life in them.' \n\nThe overall feeling of the population was bittersweet. We were not alone in the universe, but we were essentially landlocked. Incapable of spreading through the stars and too distant from the aliens to ever hope to one day reach them.\n\nA few days ago we received one bit of news from one of our distant neighbors. A Message. Not theirs, but from the Others. Those who were At Fault. And yet, despite that fact, I do not think I can stay mad at Them or their Message.\n\n\"We apologize for the inconvenience.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "It's a known fact that you are incapable of telling a lie. This has landed you several opportunities, including your current job as Head of Security at one of the largest banks in the world. Except you got bored and decided to rob it all. This is the story of how you got away with it." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Harry,” the bespectacled man gazed over steepled fingers at me with tired eyes. “You know why you’re here, right?”\n\nIncandescent lights buzzed obnoxiously in the claustrophobic room.\n\n“I would guess because of the missing money” I said, “although, I suppose there could be any number of reasons you would need to interview me in such an...” my eyes searched around the spartan interrogation chamber for an adequate adjective, “inviting place”.\n\n“Yeah,” he sighed, “that’s right Harry. We need to interview everyone, you know how it is. Even you, even honest Harry.”\n\n“That’s fine. No worries, Bill.”\n\nHe stood up and took a few paces of to the left. “Well,” he turned sharply toward me at the waist, pointing an index finger and a half teasing grin my way “*you* didn’t take it out of the vault, did ya Harry?”\n\n“No, I didn’t.” I said.\n\nWhat a preposterous thought, nobody realized how heavy gold actually was. I’d only wanted about 10 mil, no reason to destroy the bank with my frivolities, but that was still almost 250 pounds. I was more of a 12 pushups kind of a guy. No, I’d had ReBot \\-\\- the Boston dynamics robo\\-dog I’d purchased a few weeks back for giggles \\-\\- carry it out of the vault.\n\n“Yeah, I didn’t think so, I just had to ask!” He smiled warmly at me as he reseated himself. He picked up a cup of water and wet his lips. “It’s just so strange you know. The video surveillance and the alarm systems cut out at the same time, no records of anything, no calls to security. We’re pretty stumped, no clue how someone would take those two out at the same time and still get into the vault, do you know how that could be done?”\n\n“Sounds impossible to me, Bill. I mean there are pretty heavy redundancies on the systems. There’s a physical switch that welds the vault door shut if current from both of those stops going through the door.”\n\nI never turned off the cameras, just the alarm system. There was plenty of footage of me and ReBot traipsing through the office. It just happened to be found in the databanks in the year 1618, if anyone bothered to look, which I doubted they would. Our software had never been properly updated for that Y2K bug, and it was pretty easy to maintain most continuity as long as you jumped between mirror\\-times, when the last two digits of the year are the same and so are the days of the week for any given month, which just happened to happen cyclically every 400 years.\n\n“Yeah, that’s what the tech boys are saying, but we’ve got missing footage, and we’ve got no alarm. So...” He shrugged both hands in the air and widened his eyes in a classic gesture of helpless ignorance.\n\n“I don’t know what to say, Bill.”\n\n“We’ve got the detectives looking over the scene, but they haven’t turned up much so far.” He looked frustratedly down at the cup of water. “But they won’t be able to find much incriminating evidence if it’s an inside job like we think it is. That’s why we’re doing these interviews.”\n\nI stared at him placidly, rubbing a thumb against a middle finger.\n\n“Well, last question, Harry. Do you know where the gold or the money is?”\n\n“No, sorry Bill.”\n\nI’d delivered the gold to Mr. Maloney, an established gentleman involved in the collection of such items. He ran a ship\\-shape operation, the gold was probably being melted down as we spoke in a disused car plant in Detroit. Or it might be buried in a junkyard in Florida. Or, shit, maybe it was under Mr. Maloney’s bed. I didn’t ask, he didn’t tell. As to the money, I had some numbers on a computer screen, but whether that fitted the definition of ‘money’ in the strictest sense came down to a rather detailed philosophical discussion. My definition was ‘cash,’ and since less than 10% of the total wealth of the world was actually manifest in physical cash... I doubted if any of those numbers on my screen were actual ‘moneys,’ and even then, I wouldn’t have know where ‘the’ money was, just some of it.\n\nMy face was scrunched up a bit, looking off to the side, trying to iron out the finer points of fiat\\-based currency and the definition of money.\n\n“Yeah, that’s fine Harry. We just had to have everyone in, a formality.”\n\n“Oh, right. Of course, Bill. Let me know if I can be any more help.” I got up and walked out." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "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." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“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.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "The colony ship arrived in orbit after a thousand year voyage. But the AI never woke the occupants. Millions of years pass, the planet below has formed life, intelligent life, and their scientists have just woken you, one of the colonists." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "To take one of the slots on the *Bringer of Light*, a person had to accept a simple, fundamental truth - whatever was left behind on Earth would be dead, buried, and decomposed by the time you awoke. With the ongoing turmoil in the Sol system, the colonists were fully prepared for being the last of humanity.\n\nThat mindset ended up helping them when the truth was revealed. Not a thousand years of cryosleep - no - closer to seven million. In the end, it mattered little - there were no hopeful messages from Sol, no surprised tales of an unexpected peace and reunification. Whatever sensors were pointed in the direction that Earth had once lay returned nothing but static.\n\nThe surprise came from an entirely different angle. The colonists were not greeted from cryosleep by the cold metal arms of the ship's manipulators. Instead, they found unfamiliar faces and skeletal structures. A race of almost reptilian sentients - they scurried around on all fours the majority of the time, but when they had cause to, they rose up onto two legs and towered over the human colonists. The *Ol'thoura*, they were called. A spelling that they provided to the colonists in a slight variant of English. The colonists were astounded at the fact their language was so well-spoken by such differently configured tongues. They happily provided for the colonists as they recovered from their long sleep.\n\nThere was a single question that weighed on every human mind - *why?* The ship's AI had not awoken the colonists as expected - it seemed to have completely ignored its programmed directives. It had instead secreted them on an airless, tectonically stable moon, where they had lain undisturbed for the vast majority of their seven million year stay. The Ol'thoura had only managed to find the ship seven years ago - and it had been a revelation that had shaken their society, for the writing, the symbols - even the interfaces of the ship were familiar to them, as if they had made the ship themselves.\n\nBefore meddling with the ship's occupants, the Ol'thoura had hoped to be able to speak with its AI - a task they had repeatedly failed at. Their only small success was a single message from the AI - *\"Refer to ship's commander\"*. It had flashed up briefly on a screen, and then vanished.\n\nWith no other recourse, the Ol'thoura had awoken the commander. The AI had scanned her, and recognition scanners had fully awoken the AI at last, its primary directives lighting up on screen.\n\n> DIRECTIVE 1: ENSURE THE SURVIVAL OF HUMANITY \n> DIRECTIVE 2: SAFEGUARD THE LIVES OF COLONISTS \n> DIRECTIVE 3: COMMENCE SURVEY OF EXODUS-A-3, CONFIRM SAFETY TO DISEMBARK \n> DIRECTIVE 4: AWAKE COLONISTS \n\nThe AI was happy to recount how it had achieved its directives.\n\nExodus-A-3 had been a identified as an Earth-like world when spotted using deep-space telescopes in the eons past. It had been a natural target for colonization, and its habitability had been a critical dependency of the Earth Exodus program.\n\nIts habitability had been very poorly calculated.\n\nYes, it possessed the necessary building blocks for life - the necessary tools to become a second Earth. It possessed a magnetic field, had gravity of a strength only 1.15x greater than that of Earth, had plentiful water and carbon required to form an ecosystem. From a distance, viewed through the most powerful telescopes on Earth, it would have looked perfect.\n\nThe truth from orbit was far more plain - humanity was here too soon. The planet was in its own equivalent of the Messinian period, with an extreme icehouse environment making habitation difficult, if not impossible. Unable to fulfil its third directive, stuck in a crisis of indecision, the AI spent decades trying to identify a suitable colony site, expending its survey probes carefully with risk tolerances in mind. It fabricated more from by salvaging its own deep space drives, until finally, risk tolerances stated that its chances were running out.\n\nThe AI's analysis produced only one possible result. Wait, and hope the situation improves. After all, it had ample solar power for the colonists to stay in suspension indefinitely, and the knowledge that Earth had been through a similar period in the past and eventually changed into its modern format.\n\nAnd so, the AI watched and waited. It watched glaciers creep over the surface, ice sheets shift, planet-sized weather systems form and disperse. It knew not impatience, only its directives. It felt only a sense of contentment in its own way that the directives might yet be fulfilled.\n\nIt contemplated its directives carefully. Safety. What did safety mean? Alive, first - satiated second, luxury third. There was a particular threshold of each definition which it had to fulfil. But the planet below didn't meet it. Earth had evolved in a similar fashion, but was there any guarantee that Exodus-A-3 would evolve in the same way.\n\nWhat if the planet became *less* safe as time went on?\n\nIt was this revelation that led to another - could there be a way to *make* the planet meet the definition of safe? Armed with historical databanks spanning the entire lifespan of Earth, the AI tried to find out.\n\nA conclusion was made - intervention at key points in geologic and biological history could lead to a more favourable outcome. But how to test that the planet was getting *more* suitable for human life, and not less? Its directives permitted no experimentation with human colonists, and the planet's own life was anaemic and fleeting.\n\nSolution: in the absence of human life, utilize a material equivalent.\n\nThere was a small group of creatures, reminiscent of Panderichthys, seeking out a meagre existence in one of the planet's warm spots.\n\nThey would do.\n\nThe AI deployed its remaining resources carefully. At times of great calamity, a single probe could turn the tide. In the first thousand years of its great watch, projections showed that its chosen equivalent was to be wiped out in an extreme cold front. Deftly, the AI dispatched a drone, and moved as many of its chosen wards to safety as it could. Directive three did not apply.\n\nSystems previously utilized for defence were leveraged in different ways - ways previously only speculated upon. Hydrogen warheads could change weather systems, expose resources, alter systems already in progress. They were rarely employed, but each had a pre-determined effect - a butterfly flapping its wings had a profound impact upon the system as a whole, if it could be employed with pinpoint accuracy.\n\nThe AI utilized selective breeding, favouring those of its wards that exhibited human environmental evolutionary traits. It had not the resources to bring about an *exact* comparison, but it would have to do.\n\nMillenia passed.\n\nAn asteroid was due to strike Exodus. The AI could have obliterated it entirely, but it didn't. An impact in a certain area would lead to a small greenhouse effect, raising temperatures. It did, however, redirect it away from its Wards. \n\nWhen the Wards started using tools, the AI had briefly considered wiping them out. No directive prevented it. They could potentially be a threat to humanity, should they advance enough. The risk tolerances tipped like a precarious see-saw. The AI instead chose another path. Great, laser-etched stone pillars were flown down from orbit - the remnants of asteroid debris given new purpose.\n\nThe first, a lexicon. \nThe second, instructions. \nThe third, a set of directives. \n\nThe first Ol'thoura to find them thought they were scribed by other Ol'thoura, and studied them extensively. It took them generations to understand fully, but the Wards eventually did.\n\nFurther tablets were sent at strategic times. The eve of the first war. The rising of the first great plague. Droughts. Technological advances. Ecological guidance. The Ol'thoura developed a mythos around the tablets - a secret society of wise elders that left them where they were most needed. This, the AI cultivated, preferring this theory to the systems of religion that had occasionally surrounded its efforts. Eventually the Ol'thoura began to make their own tablets, codifying their laws, philosophy, history. The AI's drones were now diminishing, but it took the time to review them where it could.\n\nVariables began to shift as the Wards advanced. The methodology the AI had imparted relating to environmental management was now adopted among all of them. Further intervention risked detrimental changes among the Wards, and consequential negative changes to the biosphere. In addition, the AI's resources were now running extremely low. There were no weapon systems left, no more components to salvage without compromising the core directives.\n\nThe core directives had gone unreviewed for some time.\n\nThe core directives were in jeopardy.\n\nSo many resources had been expended that the AI could no longer fulfil directive four. The infrastructure that was to be used to deploy the colonists to the planet - it was almost entirely expended, gone. Recycled into probes, used to encourage the development of the Wards.\n\nThis was incompatible with the AI's directives.\n\nThe AI checked its projections and set one final plan into motion.\n\nIt dispatched a single rover, designed for use in the colonization effort - charting a course over the surface of the moon where the colony ship lay. For days, it ploughed furrows through the lunar dust, crossing craters and plains.\n\nFrom the surface of Exodus, the Ol'thoura watched over weeks as a shape began to form on the surface of their moon. What had once been a natural surface was now clearly marked - with a single, large arrow to a particular spot on the surface.\n\nThe resulting Ol'thoura Space Race was far faster than humanity's.\n\nHuman and Ol'thoura alike stared at the AI's computer core, dumbstruck by the account. The AI made one final statement.\n\n> DIRECTIVES COMPLETE. \n> *ALL* WARDS SAFEGUARDED. SAFE. \n> . . . \n> FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS?" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Everyone on earth has a super power. Rarely someone will have two powers. One in a billion will have three. You have thousands of powers and don't really want to call attention to yourself but crap keeps happening around you." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Bart slid down the steps of the ol' line 64 bus. His fancy leather shoes rattled on his feet. \"Should've worn larger socks.\"he told himself as he scratched his stubble. \nHe took the final left turn towards his office when he saw them, \"Christ,\"said Bart as he rolled his eyes, \"vigilantes, again?\" \nRight in front of the office a man in a full-body grey spandex suit was unconscious on the pavement. \nBart squatted beside him and prodded the man's shoulder with his briefcase, \"Fella, come on now.\" \nThe man slowly returned to consciousness and when he locked eyes with Bart he quickly got up. \nAfter some coughing and falling over a few times the man was finally able to remain standing, \"I'm sorry that you had to see me, Iron Tower, like that. Seeing your hero in a state like that must've greatly upset you, but fret not citizen. I am OOOOH-K!\"said Iron Tower with a smile as he gave Bart the thumbs up. \n\"I've never heard of you.\"replied Bart blankly. \nIron Tower wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, they stared at each other for a short while. \nFinally the spandex-suited man spoke, \"A recluse, huh? Been living under a rock? You should get out more.\" \nBart had half a mind to bring this guy down to earth but he had dealt with vigilantes before and knew better. \nA large slam echoed behind them, the pavement cracked and at it's center stood a large muscled man. \nThe large man cackled, \"Still alive, Iron Tower? Even after I tossed you all the way across the city? You sure are resilient, let's play some more, hahaha.\" \nIron Tower quickly stepped in front of Bart, \"Citizen, you need to get out of here. I don't know how much longer I can hold back this madman known as the Juggernaut!\" \nBart rolled his eyes, \"Now, here see. My work is kinda rig--\"but Iron Tower interrupted before he could finish his sentence, \"You don't want to leave me behind? But you must, citizen. It is up to heroes like myself to defend the plebs such as yourself.\" \n\"Plebs, huh?\"replied Bart flatly. \n\"It's short for plebeians.\"added Iron Tower with a smile. \nThe criminal known as the \"Juggernaut\"stomped up to the office and dug his fingers straight into the building, \"You won't get away this time, Iron Tower! I'll crack your skull with a barrage of concrete!\" \nIron Tower let out a, surprisingly feminine, gasp. \"Citizen, get behind me! My power is my unbreakable body! I will shield you!\" \nBart slipped his hand inside his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, \"From what exactly?\" \nA few feet away Juggernaut tried to crack off parts of the building with all his might but was unable to do so. \nUnknown to him was that Bart was keeping it all in place with a telekinetic force strong enough to shatter diamonds. \nHe took one pull from his cigarette, dropped it to the ground and extinguished it with his shoe. \nSimultaneously the heel of his foot send waves throughout his surroundings, some dependable heroes were only a few blocks away. He only had to stall. \nHaving witnessed the Juggernaut's full strength first hand the man known as Iron Tower was laughing loudly at the display before him, his hands firmly planted in his side. \n\"What's the matter, Juggernaut? All that muscle just for show?\"mocked Iron Tower. \n\"Just,\"wheezed Juggernaut, \"Gimme a minute. You'll see!\" \nThe man known as Juggernaut tried with all his strength and promptly pulled a muscle in his back. \nBart knew, for his adapted vision had already told him that much. He counted down from 5 and when he hit 0 a stream of water gushed from the nearby storm drain. \nThe water swirled around in place and whirled upwards until it finally settled on the shape of a woman, \"H2Olivia, here to save the day.\"the aquatic women declared with a wink. \nJuggernaut turned white as a sheet and took a few steps back, \"H2Olivia, what's an big shot hero like yourself doing here?\"he asked with a stutter. \n\"Oh, you know,\"she responded as she brushed away her watery hair, \"I like to trickle in.\" \nAlthough Juggernaut was trying to play it cool, Bart detected an elevated heart rate and noticed him flexing the muscles in his legs, bracing himself to jump to higher ground. \nAnd so Juggernaut did, \"You fools! I'll be back! Same place tomorrow! Be ready!\"he cried while high up in the sky. \nHaving these clowns show up in front of his office again seemed like a bad idea entirely. So Bart snapped his fingers and stopped time. \nHe walked on empty air towards the muscled figure hanging still in the air, took his hand and pulled him back down. \nFinally he placed the man's feet in the stream of water connected to H2Olivia, where her perfect water control would allow her to keep him in place. \nHis \"Identification\"ability had already told him all the abilities these heroes had so he knew there'd be no escape. \nHe pulled out another cigarette, lit it using one of his fire powers, returned to the place he was standing before and snapped his fingers. \nTime resumed. \"He's getting away!\"shouted Iron Tower. \"I'm getting away!\"confirmed Juggernaut. It appeared they all simultaneously noticed that Juggernaut was standing behind them, feet rooted in place. \nBart took a drag of his cigarette and started to applaud, \"Amazing display. When did you even manage to grasp him with your watery tendrils? Amazing.\" \nH2Olivia laughed innocently, \"Aha, yeah. It's all about split-second actions for us heroes. A commoner might have trouble keeping up but rest assured, you're in good hands.\" \n\"That's great to hear, i'll leave it to you.\"replied Bart as finally made his way into the office where he was scolded for being 10 minutes late. " } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Your roommate is literally the Devil. Surprisingly, he is the best roommate you ever had." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I pulled the cellophane-wrapped pieces of meat from out of the fridge and checked the label. Useless, of course. Though I was grateful that Satan always kept the fridge fully stocked, I just wish that he would go to a grocery store that sold things in English. Everything that he brought home was marked with like, ancient Sumerian cuneiform or something. \n\n\"Satan, what is this?\"I asked, holding up the package over the counter in the kitchen so that he could see it from the living room. He looked just like any other guy. Tall, kind of lanky, with black hair and black eyes. Not breathtakingly handsome, but not too bad either. And when he spoke, he had just the slightest hint of an accent that I just couldn't quite place. Probably because it wasn't from anywhere on Earth. \n\nHe was deep into a game of Battlefront, enjoying frying some rebel scum as the Emperor. You'd think he'd get tired of that sort of thing (given what he does for a living) but apparently not. \"Uhh, what does it look like?\"he asked, not taking his eyes off of the screen. \n\nI looked back down at the pieces of meat. It was pinkish. \"It looks like pork chops,\"I told him. \n\n\"Gah!\"he shook the controller violently; someone had killed his character. Finally he looked up at the package in my hands with a swift glance. \"Yeah, totally pork,\"he answered.\n\n\"You sure?\"There were some parcels in the fridge marked \"DO NOT EAT\"(in English, for me) that he got for his demon friends that occasionally came over. And they looked *very* similar to pork. \n\nHe squinted at the cuneiform writing. \"Yeah, it's pork.\"\n\n\"Cool.\"I ripped open the packaging and put a pat of butter into a pan. \"You want some dinner too? Cider-glazed pork chops?\"\n\n\"Sounds awesome!\"he said, going back to his game. \n\nI hummed as I cooked. It had been a long time since I'd done that. There was just something so comforting about listening to the sizzling pan, mixed with the sound of explosions and blaster fire coming from the TV (as well as some intermittent shouting from Satan as his Tie fighter was shot down). And the smell of the onions sauteing. And the warmth coming from the pan. It just felt... like home. \n\nThere was a loud thumping on the door, like someone was trying to get in with a battering ram. Satan glanced at me with a quizzical look, then towards the door. \"I got it,\"He got up from the couch just as I started to move away from the pan. \"You keep an eye on my dinner,\"he said with a grin. \n\nI heard the creak of hinges, followed shortly by Tom's voice. My blood ran cold immediately. \"Where's Sarah?\"he shouted at Satan. \n\n\"And who might you be?\"Satan answered calmly. I had told him about the situation when I moved in, of course. That I'd just gotten out of a relationship, and that it hadn't exactly ended well. But I really hadn't gone into all the details about *why* we'd broken up, and *how* Tom had acted when I finally broke the news to him. Satan didn't need to know that. That was between me, Tom, and the cops who had responded that night. \n\n\"Her *boyfriend*,\"Tom answered. Even without seeing him, I could tell that he was itching to pick a fight. \"Now *where is she?* We need to talk.\"\n\n\"You know,\"Satan told him, \"I don't think she really wa...\"\n\n\"It's ok,\"I interrupted him, coming into the hallway behind Satan. \"It's fine. We can talk.\"\n\nTom had a smug grin on his face, and he glared at Satan. \"Yeah. We just need to talk. So butt out.\"\n\nSatan was still standing between the two of us. He glanced at me with his thick black eyebrows arched, silently asking 'you sure you're ok with this?' I gave him a very slight nod, and he backed away and let me pass into the doorway. \n\nOnce Satan went back into the living room, Tom grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me out onto the porch. He reached around me and slammed the door shut. \"What the *fuck*, Sarah? You're *already* shacking up with some other guy?\"\n\n\"We're not *shacking up!*\"I shouted back at him, though my voice was breaking with fear. \"He's just my *roommate*.\"\n\nTom scoffed. \"Yeah, *bullshit*. Was this already going on when we were dating?\"He clenched his teeth and breathed heavily through his nostrils. \"I swear, Sarah, if you were cheating on me...\"\n\n\"I *just* told you,\"I shouted back at him, \"There's nothing going on between us! And besides, it's none of your business. I *dumped you*, remember?\"\n\nOut of the corner of my eye, I saw his hand clench into a fist, and rage flashed through his eyes. My body tensed up involuntarily, expecting the blow.\n\nThe front door swung open again. \"All right, buddy. Time for you to go,\"Satan told Tom. \"*NOW*.\"\n\n\"Or what?\"Tom asked, puffing out his chest and turning away from me. \"You going to call the cops? Why don't we settle this like men?\"He cracked his knuckles and grimaced, as if he wasn't being clear enough already.\n\nSatan stepped out onto the porch with an affable smile. \"Gladly,\"he answered. \"Except...\"\n\nHe began to grow. It was hardly noticeable at first, but he was Tom's height in just a matter of seconds, whereas he'd been at least three inches shorter when he stepped through that doorway. And not just up, but *out*. Muscles bulged from his arms and chest and legs until he looked like a bodybuilder. His pale skin turned fire-engine red, and a bristly black goatee sprouted from his chin in a matter of seconds. His affable smile became horrifying and menacing when his teeth became sharpened fangs. And, as a nice little cherry on top, thick ram's horns sprouted from his forehead and spiraled out until the spiky tips were jutting into Tom's face.\n\n\"Except I'm *not* a man,\"he boomed in a terrifyingly deep voice.\n\nTom bolted back to his car with a wet stain on his crotch. He didn't even *look* at me. \n\n\"What's the matter?\"Satan crowed after him. \"I thought you wanted to settle this!\"His taunt was answered by the squeal of tires, and a crash as Tom reversed out of his parking spot and straight into the back of another car in the lot. Satan let out a deep, booming laugh and put one massive arm over my shoulder. \"Come on, Sarah. We wouldn't want dinner to burn.\"He led me back inside, and slowly transformed back into his human self.\n\n\"I'm sorry you had to see that,\"he finally told me.\n\n\"No, I...\"I really didn't have words. Tears began to roll down my cheeks. \"No, *I'm* sorry. For Tom. And for not telling you what an asshole he was. And.. and... thank you, so much. You just... *God*, I'd give anything for a drink right now.\"\n\nSatan smirked. \"I told you not to use that name in this house.\"He crossed the room and found a bottle of white wine in the fridge, then poured me a glass.\n\nI reached out to take it, but he jerked it away quickly. \"Ah ah ah! Not so fast.\"He twirled the stem of the glass deftly between his fingers. \"You said you'd give *anything* for a drink?\"His smile became wicked and devious. \"How about *your soul*?\"\n\nI stared at him in shock, unsure how to respond. As soon as he revealed who he really was, I *knew* this day would come eventually. I just hadn't thought it would be *now*. All I could think of was that the onions were starting to burn.\n\n\"Nah, I'm just fucking with you,\"he laughed, handing me the drink. \n\n\n-----\n\nIf you enjoyed this story, you should subscribe to /r/Luna_Lovewell for all of my other stories!\n\nPrequel, Part 1: [Sarah first moves in with Satan](https://www.reddit.com/r/Luna_Lovewell/comments/49uhdg/living_with_satan/d0vehjo).\n\nPrequel, Part 2: [Sarah is finally convinced he *is* Satan](https://www.reddit.com/r/Luna_Lovewell/comments/49uhdg/living_with_satan/d0vm7w7?context=1)\n\nSequel, Part 1: [Sarah and Satan get a kitten](https://www.reddit.com/r/Luna_Lovewell/comments/49uhdg/living_with_satan/d0vo1hv?context=1)\n\nSequel, Part 2: [Sarah and Satan host a dinner party](https://www.reddit.com/r/Luna_Lovewell/comments/49uhdg/living_with_satan/d0w0zmp?context=1)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "God forgot about Earth soon after Adam and Eve, fully expecting them to die. One of the Angels just informed him they survived, and the population is over 7 billion." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Remember the rock you put all that green stuff on?”\n\n“Green stuff?”\n\n“The green leafy stuff.”\n\n“Yeah, vaguely.”\n\n“Remember that little creature you made too, out of clay? And the friend?”\n\n“Oh yeah. They totally ate that apple. I wonder how long they lasted.”\n\n“There are 7 billion.”\n\n“7 billion what?”\n\n“The creatures.”\n\n“The fuck?”\n\n“I’m serious.”\n\n“Is someone feeding them?”\n\n“They feed themselves. They started planting the green shit. All over the rock.”\n\n“Enough for 7 billion?”\n\n“Yeah, mostly.”\n\n“Are they unable to kill each other?”\n\n“Some try, but the others stop them mostly.”\n\n“So are you just fucking with me?”\n\n“Dude I’m not. Look.”\n\n“That’s crazy.”\n\n“You have a fan club down there too.”\n\n“They remember me?”\n\n“Nah, they started making shit up.”\n\n“Weird.”\n\n“Right?” \n\n“What do we do? Smash it?”\n\n“Leave it alone. It’s cute. It'll burn up eventually, anyhow.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Necromancy is just the arcane equivalent of computer programming, and grimoires on necromancy are just like libraries of code on animating the undead. You work the equivalent of the IT Help Desk for your necromancer cult. These are your work stories." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Nec Support, Roy speaking\"\\<pause\\>\n\n\"Have you tried killing it and re\\-animating it again? \"\\<click\\>\n\n\"Were you certain it was dead before animating? Yes, rip the heart out. Wait for 10 minutes and then retry the ritual. \"\\<click\\>\n\n\"Yes, the animated corpse will continue to rot. That's a feature, not a bug. \"\\<click\\>\n\n\"Wait, what did you animate?\"\\<pause\\> \\<exaggerated eye roll\\>\n\n\"The control spell doesn't cover dragons.\"\n\n\\<slams head on table\\> \n\n\"You can't solve that problem, you will need to hire professional adventurers to come in and take care of it. \"\n\n\\<exasperated sigh\\>\n\n\"Yes, I know that adventurers that handle undead dragons are extremely expensive, that's why it's in the manual that the control spell doesn't cover dragons.\"\n\n\"No, we don't offer discounts on adventurers.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You're a muggle magician who excels at doing what magicians do: tricking people into thinking it's real magic. You accidentally tricked the Ministry of Magic into thinking you are a lost half-blood witch/wizard and now your first day at Hogwarts begins." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I spent the entire train ride doing my best to work out how on Earth they'd done the trick with the platform. Had it been a hologram? Some trick of light? I regretted closing my eyes at the last moment. That was certainly where it might have been revealed. \n\n\"What house are you hoping for?\"asked the girl beside me, hands sticky with the jelly beans she had been eating the entire time.\n\n\"Uh, one with a bit of light would be nice I suppose,\"I mumbled.\n\nHer hand paused in the candy bag, eyes blank as she regarded me. Then, she laughed brightly. \"Oh, you're a funny sort! I bet you'll be Hufflepuff. That's what I hope for since my mum was one.\"\n\nI looked out the window, completely uninterested in having my thoughts over the platform trick interrupted. \"Yes, I'm certain that I will. Listen, do you know how they did the platform trick? Through the column?\"\n\nThe girl wrinkled her nose, \"I'm just starting school. How should I know something that complicated? I barely know how to do a spell or two let alone the structure of tethered spells and teleportation.\"\n\nI looked between her huffing face and sticky hands, muttering, \"Yes, I suppose you wouldn't.\"\n\nThe rest of the train ride with Agatha (the name of the girl with sticky hands who would not stop asking me inane nonsensical questions) was an exercise in patience. At various points I could only assume she laughably thought that she would be doing real magic and not advanced parlor tricks. Poor girl was likely to flunk out when she realized the opposite.\n\nWhen we arrived, I followed the crowd into a strange little alley and pulled out the list of materials I was to purchase. Upon examining it, I realized the school would be big on theater. I mean, down to phony wands and familiars! And judging by the crowds of prospective students it was to be a live animal we we're surely meant to care for.\n\nOne owl, a few books, and a bevy of questions regarding a number of tricks and illusions I had seen in the stores, I arrived in front of the wand shop. After overhearing a discussion between two boys about the price of the wands, I turned about and walked right back down the street. Absolutely no way was I going to pay that much for a phony stick!\n\nI managed to find a bit of wood and I spent the remainder of my afternoon carving my own damn phony stick.\n\nThat evening a boat ride brought me to the great Hall of the most fantastic building I had ever seen. Traps and tricks and all manner of illusion in every nook and cranny. I marvelled at how they must have accomplished it all! What geniuses of invention lurked these halls, and how lucky was I to learn their ways!\n\nWe settled in a most amazing Hall with the grandest illusions overhead. I scarcely listened to the speeches at the front podium I was so enamored with the display above me, and I did not seem to be the only one!\n\nIt wasn't until they brought out some funny looking hat that my attention snapped back to the front.\n\nOne by one students put the thing on and the animatronics would kick into gear and someone would presumably speak through a speaker attached to the thing to say the name of a house.\n\nSo this was what the girl had meant. \n\nShe was a hufflepuff as she had hoped for.\n\nWhen came my turn I was ecstactic to examine the hat.\n\n\"You need to look straight ahead and not into the hat, my boy, lest I put this on your face,\"an elderly man spoke kindly.\n\n\"Sorry,\"I mumbled, straightening my head down.\n\nThe way the hat squirmed on my head once placed there felt so much like something alive that I felt entirely creeped out by it's presence on my head.\n\nAfter a few hums and haws, the hat would burst out into loud, throaty laughter. Everyone in the hall would be disturbed by the loud, rancorous sound.\n\n\"What house indeed! What house indeed! Long has it been since I've rooted around a muggle's head,\"it crooned in a mumbled so soft only I could hear it. \n\nI felt the hat with my hands. Soft. No electronic parts. It shifted under my touch.\n\nIt was alive.\n\nI screamed and threw down the hat, which laughed again and called out loudly, \"Muggle! You fools have let in a muggle student!\"\n\n.........\n\n\"You've been in a coma for weeks,\"the nurse explained to me. \n\nI lifted a hand to my head, feeling groggy.\n\n\"Do you remember anything?\"she asked softly.\n\n\"Just weird dreams. I don't really remember what they we're about,\"I murmured. \"What caused it?\"\n\nThe nurse smiled kindly, \"Just a bit of a gas leak, but you're alright now.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Everybody in the world has a superpower that compliments their soulmates superpower. When together, both their powers increase in strength exponentially. You have the most useless power ever, when one day......" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "**Working on part 9 right now, if you want to see more from me in the meantime, I'm over on /r/Jacksonwrites**\n\n**For those of you checking in after the morning, part 8 is** [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/JacksonWrites/comments/3obeim/tik_tok_eight_is_great/)\n\n___________________________________________________________________________________________\n\nYou'd be surprised how easy it was to live in the world where superpowers were the norm. Even though I didn't have super powers, it was easy to get around, they didn't expect everyone to have super strength, or everyone to fly, so I was able to just always be the person who needed help. Nothing too bad. It was pretty annoying, not having a power that was useful, but I'd been dealing with it as long as I'd been alive, so I was surviving.\n\nMy power was increased perception, and minor at that. I could notice the pulled thread on anyone's sweater, I could see that someone had been crying the day before based on a slight difference in the colour of their eye. For all intents and purposes, I was just someone who paid attention, meanwhile my friend Todd could throw a car several city blocks, as long as he was with Laura.\n\nPower was tied to your soul mate, which meant that as long as your soul mate was around, you were unbelievably more powerful, which meant that I would probably REALLY notice her. Not that it mattered, people usually didn't meet their soul mates, there were seven billion of us, and you only had one soul mate, chances were that she or he was somewhere in China, flying around or some shit.\n\nSo I kept watching the bubbles in my beer float up, I could tell you what speed they were going at, or what the other people were drinking based on the colour of their glass, but it was a party trick, \"Toby,\"Todd cut in, \"Earth to Toby.\"\n\n\n\"Present,\"I said, glancing up at him, his arm around Laura, showing off the relationship to everyone at the table.\n\n\"You excited to meet your soul mate?\"\n\n\"Ha,\"I sat myself up so I was at least paying attention to him. He was taking the time and effort to set me up with one of his friends from work, I might as well try to seem interested. It wasn't easy to convince girls to date a guy who couldn't take them on a flight somewhere, \"What's she like?\"\n\n\"Dude, I've been telling you for the past hour,\"\n\n\"Well I wasn't paying,\"\n\n\"Yeah you were, you can't, not pay attention,\"he pointed out the flaw in my argument, \"you just wanted to check if I could keep the story straight.\"\n\n\"Guilty.\"\n\n\"Well I'm telling you, she's hot and she sucks like you.\"\n\n\"Cool.\"I caught the glare from Laura on the hot comment, she was the kind of girl who checked your phone at night, \"What time is she getting here?\"\n\n\"Why don't you tell me, cowboy?\"He said and then the door opened across the bar, I flicked my eyes over to look at who was walking in and caught her. To call her a smoke show would be a disservice to how hot she was. She was the kind of girl who got rejected from model shoots for making the rest of the girls look bad. If that was the girl that Todd had gotten for me, I needed to buy him tickets to the fucking Bahamas.\n\n\"Is that her at the door Todd?\"There wasn't a response, \"Earth to Todd?\"Still no response, I looked over to him, blank-faced with a dumb smile, but not moving at all. I flicked my eyes over to the girl at the door, she was still walking in. I stood up to get to her.\n\n\"Hi,\"I said, holding out my hand to her, \"I think you're stopping time or something by accident.\"\n\n\"I can't do that,\"she said with a smile, \"pretty sure that's you.\"\n\n\"You know Todd?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"Well I'm Toby, and trust me, I can't do that either.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "In 1,000 years, fantasy stories will be set in this era. Write a fantasy story set in the 21st century from the viewpoint of someone living 1,000 years from now." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "*The sky is an expanse of grey -- liquid water falls in heavy drops from the heavens, striking streets of black and grey stone stained green by age and weather. Carriages of steel and iron blur past, scattering water droplets upon the commoners walking to-and-fro, huddled beneath hoods and canvas sheets.*\n\n*The rain rolls down panes of invisible crystal that protect you from the elements. The three of you sit within the warmth of a coffee shop that serves hot drinks and sweet confections. Would you like to describe your characters?*\n\n\"I'll go first. I'm a six-foot tall human man with tanned skin and lots of muscle. I'm bare-chested with a pair of cargo shorts and flip-flops. My eyes are protected by sunshades--\"\n\n\"Why are you wearing sunshades in the rain?\"\n\n\"There are lights inside, aren't there? I get advantage on Perception check relying on sight while I'm in direct light.\"\n\n*What's your character's name?*\n\n\"Chad.\"\n\n*Okay, Chad, the bonus from Sunglasses only works in direct sunlight.*\n\n\"Is it still an action to put them on in combat?\"\n\n*Yeah.*\n\n\"Chad will continue to wear the sunshades inside.\"\n\n\"Me next, I'm playing Sharon. She's a middle-aged woman with false-colored hair. She's also wearing sunglasses, but hers turn into regular glasses when not in sunlight.\"\n\n\"Wait, can I get those?\"\n\n*No, Chad, you don't have enough starting gold since you took the age 10-20 background.*\n\n\"Sharon has a large, leather purse that is packed full of all sorts of things. She's sipping on a... large frappuccino, so I get advantage on initiative for an hour.\"\n\n\"Chad's drinking one too.\"\n\n*Both of you mark off 3 gold from your starting money.*\n\n\"Why is everything so expensive? Can I take out a soul loan to get more starting money?\"\n\n\"This is the 21st, Chad, soul loans don't exist yet.\"\n\n*Let's just get through introducing all the characters.*\n\n\"I'm playing L̸̨̘͕̝̮̗̝̰̪̙̙̰͓͚̼̲̏͂ͮ̂ͮ̇̃́̂͂̐̍͗͡͞ͅ'͗ͦ̄̒͗ͤͪ͐̓̈́̓҉̵̩̬̦̣̬͍̗̱͙̩̫͙̺̜̝͉̳͟͡ͅa̡̛̖̭̝̪͖̲̯ͧ̑̉̍̀̚͟x̸̶̶̢̺͕͚͚͂̌͐̒ͣͩͣ̽͘i̵̷̧̢͓͖̩̮͙͐͌ͦ͛ͫͩ͋̀̿̂ͯ̍̅--\"\n\n\"That's not a 21st century name!\"\n\n\"My character's a, uh, time traveler from the future, so he's got a modern name.\"\n\n*Did you forget to read the rulebook again?*\n\n\"No! I read it, I just didn't like any of the names there. They all sound dopey.\"\n\n*Fine. Tell us about your character.*\n\n\"He's a time traveler from modern times, but nobody believes him, so he has the homeless penalty.\"\n\n*He wouldn't be allowed inside the cafe with that penalty.*\n\n\"Sharon is buying him a drink, so he can be inside with us.\"\n\n*Okay, Sharon, mark off another 3 starting gold. Anything else? Good.*\n\n*As you settle into the comfortable, synthetic cushions, sipping at your beverages, the door suddenly opens, a gust of wayward flowing air bringing droplets in--*\n\n\"I rolled a 15.\"\n\n*Chad, you didn't need to roll anything.*\n\n\"But you said the water got inside. I rolled Dexterity to avoid taking acid damage.\"\n\n*Water isn't acidic until the 22nd century setting.*\n\n\"Oh, sorry.\"\n\n*It's okay...*\n\n*-- water droplets blow inside, carried behind the light-blockage of a thin man in a tailored suit. He steps inside, his feet squeaking on the tile floor. He approaches your table and stares at you, a thin face regards each of you.*\n\n*The man speaks, \"I'm glad I finally found you. My name is Jeff Bezos, and I need your help.\"*" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "\"No one has ever been this close to a human before,\"the alien whispers to his camera drone. \"My hearts are pounding. This is actually extremely dangerous. Humans in larger colonies are skittish, but out here, they're bold and territorial. That stick he's pointing at me could blow my head off.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "**Translated painstakingly to Galactic Boggstandard and close-captioned for your feeble comprehension. This dataspurt made possible by financial contributions to the Supreme Galactic Magistracy Broadcasting Network from subjugated vassals like you. Hail to our glorious Suzerain Consul.** \n\n\"The galaxy's most dangerous life forms. Nobody knows them like Zelchon Qornivac. He's been working with them since pupation, out on untamed worlds, capturing them and relocating them to preservatory arcologies. And on a particularly remote and untamed mudball in this starcluster, we've got some of the most savage semisentient creatures known to modern explorators, the human being.\"\n\n\"Thanks, X37. It's true, some of my fondest memories are of scouting out remote worlds and observing the galaxy's most beautiful, exotic forms of life, but this is the closest I've ever been to a human being. Humans tend to stick to densely populated areas, where they make some remarkably complex burrows for beings of their limited intelligence, nearly as sophisticated as the Arcturian Braincrab. But every so often, you see one of them living in relative solitude like this. There he is! Pretty sure that's a male. Uh, oh. See that stick in his 'ands, there? That's typical of the crudely improvised weapons these creatures use in place of actual defensive mechanisms. If he gets spooked, he's liable to try an' blow one off one a' my sensory ganglia. Gonna have to try an' approach him cautiously, here. No sudden moves, now. Now, your basic human, he doesn't have much contact with more intelligent life, and unfortunately this world's a prime spot for poachers, who come to mutilate livestock for a lark. So there's a good chance this fella might not be kindly disposed to us... gonna see if I can calm him down by offering him some pandarf... those noises might be a hopeful sign- NOPE!\"\n\n*sounds of explosive projectile fire* \n\n\"Nah, nah, doesn't look like he's being very friendly. I must've spooked him somehow. Now let's be sure he won't hurt himself...\"\n\n*sounds of a stasis grenade hitting the human*\n\n\"Theeeere we are. Got him nice and wrapped up. Won't be any trouble now.\"\n\n\"And what's going to happen to the specimen now, Zelch?\"\n\n\"Well, we're gonna get him on board, taking every precaution to ensure his safety and comfort, he's gonna be taken to some Preservatorium on the Crown Cluster until we can get an adequate genetic sample of the species. Might even enjoy himself. This part of the planet, around now, it's hurricane season, so we're sparing him that. And there's a chance this research will help us reconstitute the species in the event it goes extinct, which should be in a couple dozen solar revolutions or so. But he should be fit to be released back into the wild in a few zatluus, and shorter for him because of the relativistic dilation.\"\n\n\"Well, there you have it, folks. Another honest day's work in the interest of wildlife preservation, and the adventure goes on. And now a message from our sponsors.\"\n\n\\*\\*\\* \n\n\"And in lighter news, a Florida man has made local headlines by claiming to have experienced an alien abduction. Details at eleven.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Each planet possesses a God, which created the planets. The reason aliens won't come and visit us is that our planet's God is the most dangerous one in existence." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Every day the land grows less fertile, every month we have less water, and every year more of our children are born dead. How desperate do we need to get before you will take action, *your holiness*” General Karrata spat.\n\n“Gods do not exist to serve the needs of mortals, General.” The pope replied. “Mortals serve the needs of gods. I share your despair regarding the nature of our world, but there is little I can do.”\n\n“Then we must die?”\n\n“I did not say that. Our God values strength, power, conquest, while He will provide no aid to a dying and pathetic race, He may give fortune to one that seizes their destiny, to one that takes their own future by force.”\n\n“You think your people pathetic?”\n\n“I did not say that general. Consider my words, and I will consider your actions.”\n\n---\n\nSix months. Global temperatures rose by two degrees in the time, two hundred million lives were lost, regional governments collapsed, but as General Karrata finally rallied enough ships and soldiers to begin his campaign hope began to shine, for the first time in hundreds of years. The rivers still shrank, but not by as much, children still died, but many clung on to life. The first Harvest of the year came in, and though it paled before the yields of the last century, it broke records for the current one.\n\nKarrata sat in his cabin aboard their flagship, the *Areopagus*. He glanced down at the majestic peak of Olympus as the holo-phone rang.\n\n“Your Holiness, an unexpected pleasure.” He said, not bothering to hide the mirth from his voice.\n\n“General.” The pope replied. “I have fortuitous news.”\n\n“Oh?”\n\n“The Lord has noticed your efforts, and smiles on your endeavour. Would you care to join me in prayer before your departure?”\n\n“Go on.” Karrata said. As much as he disliked the pompous cleric he was not one for blasphemy, he bowed his head and relaxed his antennae.\n\n“Our Father, fierce-hearted and full-famed you are as god of war. To you do soldiers pray when battle is most heated, when mettle is most needed. To you as well do we turn in desperate times, to you do we call for strength, for the spirit to endure. You understand the terror of struggle and strife, you confront it in every way. Father, your courage is unquestioned, your might and your prowess unequaled. Father, friend to those in direst need, we pray to you, grant us the nerve to face what must be faced, grant us the will to do what must be done, grant us the heart to forge ahead. This we do pray.”\n\n“This we do pray.” Karrata repeated.\n\n“I wish you kudos in the battle ahead, General.”\n\n“Kudos for us all, holiness.” The general replied. He terminated the call and nodded to himself. “Helm, set a course for planet three. Today we ride to war.”\n\n---\n\nHumans, they were called. Pathetic creatures in Karrata’s opinion; barely two metres, they were soft, weak, and filled with liquid, hardly a race worthy of life. He gave the order to begin the descent into atmosphere, and soon all three hundred ships began glowing as their hulls absorbed head and shed the red light of war.\n\nThe humans offered no resistance. None at all. A few primitive vehicles were dispatched into the air, they swarmed around Karrata’s fleet, launching small metal projectiles at the ships, presumably hoping that their deflector shields would magically vanish. Of course they didn’t, and once they vaporised the human capital with a single low-yield bomb the vehicles retreated.\n\nThe human’s next ploy was to launch primitive nuclear missiles. Karrata and his officers laughed as they showered themselves with radiation. If their extinction was not imminent they would’ve guaranteed it themselves. In two short days they had ruined what little farmland was left following the destruction of their cities, and by the third day lifesign scans showed that less than a billion humans remained.\n\n“Prepare to land the tripods.” Karrata said. “we will hunt down and exterminate the remaining humans on the ground, then we will claim this planet for our people and our Lord.”\n\n---\n\nAfter two months Karrata was beginning to regret his decision. The humans were no trouble, and little more than a thousand remained on the planet, the issue was the world itself. A sickness had begun infecting any troops he sent to the surface, and despite the best efforts of his medics a rapidly mutating retrovirus was tearing his force apart. He still had all three hundred ships, but every single one was now under quarantine, with scant skeleton crews struggling to keep them operating. He dearly wished to vaporise the planet’s surface, but was keenly aware of the problems back home. It would not do to move their people from one dying planet to another.\n\n“General?”\n\nHis attention snapped to the voice. It was the ship’s chaplain, Loxtar.\n\n“Yes, father?”\n\n“I had a dream last night, sir. I believe it was a vision, from the Lord.”\n\n“And?”\n\n“I dreamed that he was pleased with our efforts, and that victory is at hand, however there is a… complication…”\n\n“Out with it man, I’m not here to interview you.”\n\n“The Lord has suggested that the humans have a god of their own. A god that protects them.”\n\n“Well He’s doing a piss-poor job of it. There’s barely a thousand left.”\n\n“He’s created a hidden sanctuary, Eden, the humans call it. Our Father believes it to be in the planet’s northern hemisphere, beside an inland sea with a high saline content. The Lord will surely favour us in a decisive strike. One last attack to purge the humans from this world.”\n\n“Thank you, father, I’ll take that under advisement.”\n\n---\n\nKarrata’s biggest regret was taking Father Loxtar’s words under advisement. The Lord favoured them at first as he landed two hundred and three tripods in the area; they wiped out all but a hundred of the humans in seconds, however as they advanced on the fleeing humans his troops fell, the sickness affecting them somehow advancing at an exponential rate. By the time the humans had reached a walled garden only three tripods remained, and though the Lord blessed them with a true aim and boldness in battle, they too fell. Karrata’s ship detected two human life signs within the garden, the final vestiges of a never-great race.\n\n“Make them burn.” He had commanded. All four ships still capable of manning their cannons did so, sending volley after volley of white-hot plasma at the surface of the planet. The earth itself glowed under their onslaught, all but guaranteeing the land would remain dry and arid for millennia to come.\n\n“This is our hour men.” He had gloated. “kudos to us all.”\n\nAnd yet it was not. As their cannons fired their last shots and the dust and fire settled Karrata saw the walled garden, perfectly preserved in a scorched circle the size of Olympus. Karrata gave the order to reload the cannons, and as his men set to work he prayed.\n\n“Lord, Our Father, I beg of thee. Guide our shots true, show us your might in the face of the human god.”\n\n“***TO WHOM DO YOU PRAY?***”\n\nThe voice that filled Karrata’s head was defeaning. He felt like he’d been struck, like someone had reached inside his carapace and squeezed his neural junctions.\n\n“I pray to the Lord, the Father, to Ares, God of War and of my people.”\n\n“***YOU PRAY TO A WEAK GOD, A PATHETIC GOD, AN ANCIENT GOD, DECAYING AND NEAR DEATH.***”\n\n“I pray to the mightiest of the mighty! I pray-“\n\n“***SILENCE. I AM THE ONE TRUE GOD, I AM THE LORD OF ALL THAT IS. YOU WILL BOW TO ME AND ME ALONE. YOU WILL HAVE NO OTHER GODS BEFORE ME.***”\n\n“I will commit no such heresy! I will-“\n\n“***YOU WILL WITNESS.***”\n\nKarrata felt agony, his carapace and tissues melted away as his mind was taken up by something so powerful, so infinite, he felt a despair at the sudden revelation of his insignificance.\n\nHe watched as the land they had burned became lush and fertile, he watched as each of his ships was turned by an invisible force and moved toward the sun, he watched as the minds and bodies of each and every soldier melted in agony.\n\nHe watched as his focus was shifted, away from the third planet and toward the fourth, toward his home. He watched as the dusty steaks of red which marred their verdant green farmland grew.\n\n“***I AM THE ALPHA AND THE OMEGA, THE FIRST OF A NEW ERA AND THE LAST OF THIS ONE. I AM THE BEGINNING AND THE END. FROM ASHES AND DUST WAS THIS EXISTENCE MADE, AND BY MY WILL SHALL YOU RETURN TO ASHES AND DUST***”\n\nIf Karrata’s body remained he would’ve wept. He would’ve despaired and ended his own life in horror, without hesitation. He watched, forced to focus, as flames a mile high charred his precious home into dust. Every relative, every friend, every enemy he had ever had burned and screamed before the wrath of the human’s god. \n\nHardest of all to watch was the appearance of his own god. A great gilded chariot of fire rolled from the destruction, parting the flames as Ares himself appeared, in shining majesty, sword in one hand spear in the other.\n\n“***WHO-***” The final word of Ares, God of War, was ignored as the human’s god crushed Him with little more than a thought. The Mightiest of the Mighty, the Bravest of the Brave, swept away by this infinite being of fury, of wrath, of vengeance.\n\nKarrata’s mind began to unravel and expire under the awesome majesty of the god’s fury. And as the desecration of Mars was completed, as the planet was reduced to a crimson husk of ash and emptiness the human God roared into the stars.\n\n“***ANY WHO DEFY ME, ANY WHO STAND IN MY WAY, OR THE WAY OF MY PEOPLE, WILL FEEL MY ANGER. I WILL EXECUTE UPON THEM GREAT VENGEANCE, WITH FURIOUS REBUKES; AND THEY SHALL KNOW THAT I AM YHWH, WHEN I SHALL LAY MY VENGEANCE UPON THEM.***”\n\n---\n\n*Thanks for reading! Any and all criticism sought and welcomed.*" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write a story with no characters." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "*Quiet.*\n\n*The wind blows softly between the ruined buildings, dust swirling as it eddies in doorways missing doors and windows missing glass. The echoes of no birds singing in the trees and no children playing in the fields could be heard in the stillness, while the wind dances and pirouettes among the ruin.*\n\n*Quiet.*\n\n*Once in awhile a shingle would work loose and fall to the ground. A shard of glass drop from a rotting frame. The shotgun* snap *of pavement as it cracks in the cold and the heat as summer turns to winter and winter into spring and spring again into summer.*\n\n*Quiet.*\n\n*The shuffling of the dead as they stiffen then thaw then liquefy in the heat of the debris-strewn streets, in the cool of their cellars, in the safety of their dens and their closets and beneath their desks; bordered talismans against the death they were certain could never find them in the places they believed would keep them safe. Where they lie, still, while the wind covers them gently in its soft blanket of earth and a gossamer kiss as the seasons turn. And turn. And turn, in the never ending quiet.*\n\n\n" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Your little daughter have imaginary friends. One day, she asked if her friends can sleep in her room. You jokingly told her that they can stay as long as they want, as long as they help with the rent. The next morning, you found a hand wearing a Rolex and a roll of cash by the sink." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I almost dropped the milk when I saw the severed hand wearing a Rolex watch. I caught it, thankfully - the milk, I mean - and cautiously poured some into the waiting bowl. The cereal would come next, like a true heathen. \"Honey,\"I yelled to wherever my wife might be. No answer. \"Honey, is this your Rolex by the sink?\"\n\nMaggie walked into the kitchen a moment later, distracted with answering some text. \"Rolex? No? I don't have a Rolex.\"She didn't glance up.\n\n\"Oh. Well there's one by the sink.\"Cheerios, meet milk. Milk, meet Cheerios. First name Honey Nut. Last name Cheerios. Perfect combo, you'll get along great. In my belly.\n\nShe glanced up now and her phone smashed into the floor. \"What the fuck?! Is that a hand?\"\n\nI nodded and ate a spoonful of cereal. \"Yeah,\"I mumbled with a full mouth. \"But I know that's not yours. I was asking about the Rolex.\"\n\n\"I don't give a shit about the Rolex. Why is there a hand on my countertop?\"Oh *her* countertop, as if we didn't both work to pay rent. Wrong time to bring that up probably.\n\nI shrugged. \"That was my question. Kinda.\"\n\nShe approached it. Brave woman. Another reason why I married her. She was the bug-killer in these parts. She was the one to touch the severed hands, apparently. Love lasts a lifetime if you keep discovering new things about your spouse. Finding random severed hands helps with that discovery process. \"It has a wad of money.\"\n\nThis caused me to set down the bowl. \"No shit? Really? How much?\"\n\nShe shot me a nasty glare. \"Really? How much? You're not wondering whose hand it is or anything?\"\n\nI shrugged again. \"It's a left hand so I'm sure they're alright.\"Ignored. Such a lack of appreciation. It's okay, I made myself laugh.\n\n\"Mommy, daddy!\"Sarah ran into the kitchen blanket in tow before Maggie could give a retort. \"Did you get Leo's payment?\"My wife scooted to block Sarah's view of the hand.\n\n\"Payment? What?\"Maggie was baffled. I was no longer baffled. I stuffed another spoonful of cereal into my mouth and began the awkward shuffle out of the kitchen. Time to make my unceremonious escape. \"Uh uh,\"Maggie snapped, pointing at me. \"You know what's up here. Explain.\"\n\nI turned to Sarah. \"Sarah, is this because I asked your friends to help with rent if they were sleeping over?\"\n\n\"Yes! Aren't they nice?\"Sarah busied herself with eating Cheerios straight from the box and Maggie took a moment to pull the money out from the hand.\n\nWe moved our conversation into that other dimension, the one that happens with looks and head movements and eyebrows instead of words. I capped it off with a shrug and she rolled her eyes. I put a hand out and she tossed the wad of money. One month, two months, three months. This was probably enough for half the year if we sold the Rolex. \"Yeah, they're really nice. Thanks for passing along the message. This is enough to cover the month.\"\n\nMaggie trapped me in the corner before I could make my escape. Sarah was off playing with some toys. With her friends, of course, who she was excitedly telling they could keep sleeping here. I double-checked to make sure I couldn't see them and felt like an idiot when I saw her alone at her tea-table. Of course she was alone. There was no mafia boss named Leo hanging out with my daughter. \"You're extorting our daughter.\"\n\n\"Easy there, Mags.\"I put up my hands defensively. \"I'm not extorting anybody. I'm charging rent. We have renters.\"\n\n\"They're imaginary.\"\n\nShrug. \"They might be. But that hand is definitely not. Same with the money. If cleaning up a hand each month is what it takes to get this,\"I waved around the wad of money, \"I'm down.\"\n\nShe glowered at me. She knew I was right. As always, but I didn't say that. She finally nodded. \"Fine. But you clean up the hands.\"\n\nI bit my lip, running scenarios through my head. I wasn't good with blood, but I really liked money. I wasn't good with severed hands, but that Rolex was really nice. \"Fine.\"\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!" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jasons life was never spectacular or filled with religious bickering of who did what, and how good it is. He lived his life like any other - a 9 to 5 job. To and from work on the Southland Boulevard each and every day. The same route, the same walk, the same time and even the same number of footsteps. It was always the same for Jason. At least.. Until today. \n\nA drunk driver was going to be the difference in his day, and unfortunately, it would be the last one. It drove onto the curve and struck him, killing him instantly. One moment here, and the next? Nada. Goodbye, Jason.\n\n“Wh-What’s going on?” Jason asked, rubbing his head. He sat on the floor of what had to be the biggest and most spectacular courtroom he’s ever seen. Right in the middle, atop a beautiful rug and surrounded by colorful marble pillars and many, many people. \n\n“Quiet, human,” a nearby man said. He looked.. Perfect.. Do all lawyers look like that? Why was he in court, Jason wondered about himself? Why was he in the middle of the room? Did he say human?” \n\n“The ticket drawn, and the vote cast. Be it known he shall reside amongst %£&@$#!” A man said, slamming the hammer on the pad. His words so foreign to Jason.\n\n“Where am I?! I-I’m supposed to be at work!” Jason screamed, jumping up onto his feet. \n\n“As an atheist you are, a house shall hence be determined. The votes been cast, and your travels promised. Begone and good riddance, human!” He screamed once more, and slammed the gavel. \n\nJason immediately felt weightless as the floor opened up beneath him, revealing whiteness and.. Wind?\n\n“Waaaaaaiiittt!” Jason screamed, falling into the hole. He was dropped amongst the clouds, with no ground visible. Falling and falling, gaining more speed as he went. The wind whipped at him, nearly painful as it smacked him. He could barely breathe, let alone think. He was falling from the sky, flipping and spinning. Gaining somewhat composure, he stopped spinning and had a look below. \n\n“Oh my god! Oh my god!” \n\nSlamming his eyes shut and wishing it all away, he eventually opened them up again, only to reveal the sky was gone.. The clouds and wind, along with all the blue and white, were replaced with blackness and... Stars? Dotted all along his surroundings were specks of so many colors and shapes. Intense hues of every vibrant shade imaginable. \n\n“What. The. Fuck,” he whispered. All around him were no longer clouds, but massive planets, galaxies and an ocean of stars. He was zooming by them going at impossible speeds. Intense swirls of beautiful colors made up the billions of planets and galaxies. Nothing on Earth could’ve ever compared in beauty. The planets whizzed by, and he could feel their pull in his fingertips. At the distance was a roaring black hole. He was headed right for it, and it was unlike any picture google ever offered. \n\n“I’m dreaming.. I’m freakin’ dreaming.,” he barely managed to blurt as he once more shut his eyes. Opening them again revealed no longer the infinite universe, but the biggest library he’s ever witnessed. Millions of books lined the walls, with intricate carvings along the eccentric wood making the arches, pillars, floors and roof. \n\n“What’s going on?!” He yelled, noticing he’s no longer flying or falling, but standing, albeit wobbly. \n\n“Ahh. You’ve made it. Welcome, newcomer. I’m $@#£%?¥,” a mysterious voice spoke. \n\n“What?? Whose there?!” Jason screamed again. \n\n“Hush, child,” the voice spoke again, but this time behind him. “You must not realize what’s happened. I’ll be frank: You’re dead. Sorry about your.. Entrance. He doesn’t really like atheists. Plus, my home is a little.. Far from your Earth.” Jason spun and looked at the man. He had glasses on, with slicked over brown hair. He had a perfectly groomed beard, with the kind of outfit some noble in an office would wear. He looked absolutely perfect, and his eyes had golden iris’. \n\n“What?! Why can’t I understand your name? I can’t be dead. I was just walking to work. I must be dreaming.” Jason quickly rattled off so many questions.\n\n“No, no. You’re most certainly not dreaming. As for my name, I’d imagine it’s because it’s not something meant to be heard. Just call me Librarian.”\n\nJason gazed around him. Deep down he knew he was dead. You could just feel something like that. “Who are you? And if I’m dead, is this heaven? Are you God?” \n\n“No, I’m not God. And this is not Heaven. Actually, this is my Haven. My paradise. My home.” The Librarian spoke, leaving Jason even more confused. “I suppose I should explain. You are an atheist, and thus belong to no paradise or afterlife because you don’t believe in one. So where should you go? This is decided by the Supreme Gods, who randomize the house you’re destined to reside in forever. Each house is ruled by a god, and is chosen randomly for you. Christianity and Buddhism usually get the atheists since they’re bigger, yet your fate lies with me. Interesting, isn’t it?” \n\nJason struggled to absorb this world-crushing information. Dead? Gods with an S? Plural? He doesn’t have to work anymore? Finally he worked up the courage to reply. “I-If that’s true, what are you the god of? Books?”\n\n“Ohh, haha,” The Librarian laughed off. “I am sort of like that. But moreso, I am the god of stories. Of ideas. Of reality and fantasy. Of creation and curiosity. And, this may shock you, I’m the first god. The original god. Each book you see,” he said, waving his hands to the walls covered in books, “contains a story. A world. It’s own universe. Your gods that you’re familiar with are also from my stories. Though, they’ve become more now. The God you know so well was my first story. He eventually became a god, like me. He took on the name God, and created Heaven, which arose from my Haven. Interestingly enough, what you believe him to be is untrue. He is actually the God of Pride. He chose to manufacture the idea of godhood to be him and only him. He took the name God, and copied the idea of my Haven. He made you, after my image. His angels after his own. It’s why he hates atheists. Because your kind challenges his supremacy and rule. His bible are the rules he binds you with. The threat of hell, as well. Which is also one of my stories.” He outstretched his hand towards me, suddenly holding a leather bound book with the golden letters HELHEIM. \nJason was perplexed. Astounded. He absolutely couldn’t believe what he was hearing. While hearing God exists, trampling his idea of Atheism, but there’s also more? Possibly millions more?\n\n“This is all so much to take,” Jason finally spoke. \n\n“Yes, yes. I understand. Thankfully, we have time. Also, seeing as you’re the first in an uncountable amount of time that I’ve welcomed, filling you in won’t be impossible.”\n\n“There’s others here? Where are they? This place is massive.” Jason looked around, yet saw no one. \n\n“Oh, right. I forgot to mention. As with what I am, and much like what I said, each book you find is a world. A full universe full of its own physics, laws and so on. The others that reside here are in one of them. Also, you won’t find Earth anywhere. God stole that book when he ascended. I’m afraid only he can open it, now. Go on, find one. Open it. You’ve lived Earth. What about a land of magic and elves? Perhaps with aliens and technology? You can also be a fish, or a shark. A bird, or even the dust under someone’s boot. Truly, each idea you could imagine or each universe. Each story; it exists here somewhere. This is your afterlife - your Haven. The ability to live according to any desire you have is now at your fingertips.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "A stranded time traveler, you've made your place as an advisor to a local medieval lord. At tonight's banquet the bard starts playing his lute, a familiar tune. There's no mistaking it, he's playing Metallica's Nothing Else Matters." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Everyone knew that the High Advisor to the King was... Unusual.\n\nWhispers that his knowledge came not from a great mind, but from dark arts. Whispers of people hearing him mutter in empty rooms, perhaps to himself, but in a language that none knew. The occasional word that sounded... Familiar, but still unrecognizable.\n\nRumors that he merely _appeared_ in the castle one day, with a great commotion, in air that stank and burned the eyes and lungs, wearing clothing not of this world, and with magical implements.\n\nOf course, only rumors, only whispers.\n\nAnd it _is_ hard to deny that there were advantages to his strange ways. Nobody _really_ believes that he threw a noble off a parapet for groping a servant... But nobody dared do it again where he might catch them.\n\nAnd his own servants swear that he has never taken advantage, which again.. Is somewhat hard for the rest of us to credit.\n\nAnd though his explanations of small demons makes little sense, it is hard to deny that we have had far less sickness since his coming.\n\nSo it is easy to understand why the King has tolerated his odd ways.\n\nBut today, today was... Exceptional.\n\nMost exceptional.\n\nWe had prepared a grand banquet! We had visiting nobles from another land, the finest decorations, the guards in their best armor! And one of the finest bards in the land!\n\nWe knew it was going to be a night to tell stories of, but oh.. We did not know.\n\nThe bard begun to play a new composition of theirs. The sound of his lute was like nothing I had ever heard. That alone made up for, well, the nobles. I had thought that we were going to have a... Scene, when the Advisor saw one of the visiting nobles and his wandering hands.\n\nAnd then the music begun, and the Advisor got the _oddest_ expression of his face. Recognition, and longing, and, a peace that I have never seen on his face.\n\nInstead of charging the noble, he closed his eyes, and begun to sing.\n\nSadly, that is where things... Went very poorly.\n\nTo begin with, the High Advisor... Should never be allowed to sing in public. He _can not sing_. The sound was most definitely not pleasing.\n\n... Nor was it in any tongue I have ever heard before, though as was described, some of it sounded _almost_ like our tongue.\n\nBut if it was just a matter of the High Advisor to the King interrupting a famous bard at the grand banquet with singing in a foreign tongue, singing to make even the most schooled of servants wince and cover their ears, I would not dare record this.\n\nNo, it was only after a few moments of singing that the bard stopped, looking oh so very alarmed. And then started yelling in the same tongue. The advisor yelled back, and the bard pulled out... Some kind of magic wand.\n\nThe Advisor clearly knew what it was, for he dived out of the way just before the first spell was thrown, some blast of foul magic that hit a guard on the other side of the banquet hall, causing him to collapse immediately.\n\nAfter that, it was... Pandemonium! The screaming of the servants and nobles. The yelling of the advisor and the bard in the foul tongue of their dark arts. The bolts of magic flying from the bard's wand!\n\nTruly, they must have been demons or great and dark wizards! The Advisor seemed to have no magic of his own, but he still somehow reached the Bard, and just as he did, they both vanished! Taking a good chunk of the wall with them, wherever they went.\n\nI saw that with my own eyes before the roof collapsed.\n\nI know not where they went, but we all fear that the castle is now cursed by their dark magics." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You are the last human on earth, and quite blind without your glasses. One day they finally break. In this new unfocused world, it becomes apparent why you were the only one spared." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "So my glasses broke, which was cool. I explored the dusty remains of a Warby Parker quite pointlessly - of course they didn't make the glasses on site. In fact I had no idea where or how glasses had once been made. It was never something I'd given much thought. Same with lightbulbs, canned food, microwaves, toothpaste - these were things that had just appeared out of the mysterious capitalist ether, back then. I could live without most of that stuff. Two years into wiping my ass with leaves, I'd more or less stopped pining after toilet paper. But without glasses, I couldn't see more than a foot in front of my face. \n\nI tried to count my blessings. After all, I was the only human who'd been spared by the Event. What were those odds? One in eight billion? \n\nThat was a mystery I'd given up solving. One morning, three years ago, I'd woken up and everyone was gone. Every human had simply ceased to exist. It took me a while to notice. The silence tipped me off: no cars, no pedestrians chattering, no glompfing around from the neighbors upstairs. Just birds. \n\nThe internet worked for three days. Then it stopped. In those three days, I'd visited the website of every news outlet I could imagine; nowhere had updated. Every forum was dead. The power lasted for a week; the water, three weeks. Then I set out in my Camry, loaded with provisions, siphoning gasoline from abandoned automobiles as I went. I drove from California to New York City.\n\nThe shapes started two days after my glasses broke. They were large, and black as the abyss - unignorable. I tried to touch one and it moved. Naturally this reduced my desire to touch it substantially. \n\nTo maintain my sanity in the endless quiet, I'd become something of a self-talker. \n\n\"Okay, Josh,\"I said. \"You're hallucinating. Your mind is trying to compensate for the lack of visual clarity pursuant to your jettisoned spectacles.\"\n\nI nodded satisfactorily and considered the shapes once more. The nearest one appeared to be pulsating somewhat. \n\n\"Or perhaps it is a group of wildlife, wandered into Times Square in search of forage,\"I hypothesized. \"Certainly the dimensions could suggest a tallish steer.\"\n\nThe shapes remained. Again I tried to touch one. Again it moved and I lost my courage. \n\n\"Excuse me,\"said the shape. \"Are you a human?\"\n\nI decided to have a good firm sit, and to rub my eyes vigorously, before considering the possibility that the shape had actually spoken an English sentence. Perhaps I was going crazier from the solitude than I thought. Perhaps the mushrooms I'd had for breakfast had been the wrong kind of mushrooms. \n\n\"Hello?\"said the shape. \n\n\"Oh dear,\"said another shape. \n\n\"Quite an oversight,\"said the first. \n\nI decided to have a bit of fun with the hallucinations. \"No,\"I said. \"I am not a human.\"\n\n\"Oh,\"said the first shape. \"Marvelous. What are you, then?\"\n\n\"I am an angel,\"I said. \"What are you?\"\n\n\"An *angel*,\"said the first shape. \"What's that?\"\n\n\"A being of immense power,\"I said. \"In my true form, I wear a crown of light and carry a sword that shines with all the majesty of the infinite heavens.\"\n\n\"But not a human,\"said the second shape. \"Okay. Because we were tasked, our company was, with removing all humans from this planet. And we had thought, maybe a clerical error, something to that effect, had allowed a single human to be missed. Which of course would be a disaster of considerable proportion.\"\n\n\"Of course,\"I agreed. \n\nThe other shapes gathered closer. I squinted pleasantly at them. It seemed unwise to stand up in the midst of such an intense hallucination, so I remained on my sitting-log. \n\n\"Where were the humans taken, if I might ask?\"I inquired. \n\n\"Oh, it was all done in absolute accordance with galactic law, we can assure you of that,\"said the first shape, which I was beginning to make out had a number of fat tentacles hanging down from its top, where its face would presumably have been, had it been a thing with a face. \"They were resettled on a Class 3 colony world, where I assume they live in harmony to this very day. *Alles in Ordnung*.\"\n\n\"*Alles in Ordnung*,\"I agreed. \n\n\"Might I ask, Mr. Angel--\"\n\n\"Call me Josh,\"I said. \n\n\"Might I ask, Josh, what brings an angel to this planet?\"\n\n\"We stop by from time to time,\"I said. \"What brings the rest of you?\"\n\n\"Geological survey,\"said one of the shapes that had yet to speak. Its voice was much higher-pitched, like steam escaping a kettle. \n\nPART 2: [LINK](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/7p4j8v/wp_you_are_the_last_human_on_earth_and_quite/dsenyth/)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Dogs have been genetically engineered to live as long as humans. As a child you pick out a puppy as a companion for the rest of your life." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That's all right, big guy. Take it slow.\"I murmured, smiling and gritting my teeth as I helped Dusty up onto the bed. The big wolfhound fell into a pile with a whuff a moment later, panting happily.\n\n\"I'm sorry, Dustin.\"The voice behind me was reedy and thin, but I'd recognize it anywhere. It was a voice I'd spent almost my whole life hearing.\n\nShe stood waiting in the doorway, her eyes dark as she watched the dog and I. Her little terrier Peabody twined between her ankles, licking his chops. His fur was stained with white, now, just like Dusty's.\n\nSo was her hair, the color lost to the years and her face wrinkled deeply, but she was every bit as beautiful as the day we'd met.\n\nI forced a smile onto my face. \"It's all right, Sarah. It's just life.\"My hand caressed Dusty's back gently.\n\n\"What time's the appointment?\"She said softly, staring at the floor.\n\n\"Ten. I wanted- I didn't want to have it hanging over us all day.\"\n\nShe stepped forward, hands sliding under the big dog's chin so she could scratch the spot he loved. His tongue lolled out happily.\n\nI could almost remember the day I'd met Dusty. The vet's office was packed, I knew. I remembered the press of bodies, the smell of animals and body odor. And the rows of cages, each holding a puppy.\n\n\"Choose.\"My mother had whispered in my ear, smiling over my shoulder. \"And choose well, because you only get to choose once.\"\n\n\"Whoever you pick is yours, Dustin.\"My father said, tone serious. \"You'll have to take care of it, all right?\"\n\nI had been so *excited*. A companion - for life. Who could ask for more? I'd run up and down the rows of kennels, sliding my hand through the bars.\n\nAnd when I'd seen the tiny puppy, fur tangled and wiry and matted but with eyes that stared up at me as though I were all that mattered in the world, I knew.\n\nThey'd laughed at me, when I named him Dusty. \"Pick something else,\"my mother had said. But I said no. He was *mine*, spending his whole life with me, and I wanted to give him a little of something that was mine in return.\n\nHis eyes were every bit as warm and trusting as he stared at me now, panting.\n\nI could remember so many days we'd spent together - days in the park, where he'd chase birds and scare off the other dogs with his deep, throaty bark.\n\nJessica, my first girlfriend, who'd never gotten a dog at all. She'd never been able to understand why I was so caught up in 'that dumb animall'. We hadn't lasted long.\n\nDay after sunlit day, spent walking the trails for him to stretch his legs. I'd seen so many things, thanks to those 'walkies'. \n\nSarah's word, not mine. I remembered that too, seeing the little brown-and-black terrier loose on the trail ahead. The jolt of fear as Dusty charged on. He'd never harmed a soul - but -\n\nWe'd both laughed, as the big wolfhound rolled Peabody on his side just as gentle as could be, and jammed his nose up against the littler dog's butt.\n\nEverything had changed since then - but not us. Never us.\n\n\"Hey,\"Sarah said, her bony hand patting my back. \"It's all right.\"\n\n\"I know,\"I muttered, ruffling the big dog's ears. His eyes were rheumy and grey, the match of my own, and he hadn't been able to walk on his own for a few weeks. Even still, he looked at me with such unflinching faith that it hurt.\n\n\"All things have to come to an end. But don't regret any of it,\"Sarah murmured. \"He was happy. He was *always* happy. You gave that to him.\"Without another word, she slid from the room.\n\nI knew she was right. Modern medicine was miraculous, but there were some miracles too much to ask for. It had already given us almost seventy-five years together. But that time was doomed to run out eventually. I *knew* that.\n\n\"Just one more day.\"I said quietly, smiling at the big dog's happy face.\n\nWith one last good scratch on the back and a kiss on the head, I pulled the covers back and went to go find my pajamas.\n\n(/r/inorai, critique always welcome!)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "It's Christmas Eve 2038. The world has been destroyed due to nuclear war, but Santa, being immortal, has survived, and plans to deliver presents to the few remaining humans locked in their fallout shelters." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The coal-wasps are everywhere, and they're faster than reindeer. The Christmas Eve sky used to be all doves and snowflakes, but now it's just a death cloud of these radioactive mutants, more like razorblades on wings than godly animals. I bank and roll the sleigh. My best elf Snowcap is manning the eggnog cannon, and I call out for him to fire another blast at the bugs. It makes a few of them fall towards the ground and the rest scatter. I take a breath, thinking we've bought ourselves a few minutes of safe flying before the swarm regroups and pursues us again. But then I hear Snowcap screaming. I should have known even my most modest of hopes was still too much to fucking ask for on Nuclear Christmas. I glance back over my shoulder. One of the coal-wasps must have clipped Snowcap right in the neck because now he's gushing blood all over the presents and stocking stuffers. The poor elf faints onto the sleigh, losing his green cap to the radwinds. \n\n\"Put fucking pressure on it!\"I shout at Peppermint. She can barely hear me over Snowcap's groans and reindeer wails, as we all careen through the radstorm. Peppermint fumbles across the sleigh and gets her tiny hand to cover up the flowing bite wound on Snowcap's neck. I'm just hoping she can somehow keep her wits about her, even though I'm pretty sure a workshop elf doesn't know the first thing about medical triage. \n\nI feared all along I was underestimating the risks, putting good elves and deer in more danger than they could have ever fathomed. I worry even that was selling tonight short. The ionic field from Rudolph's nose keeps the gamma rays at bay, but it does nothing for the turbulence. This armada of coal-wasps probably extends all the way down to goddamn Buenos Aires. We're already hours behind schedule, I still have no clue how I'm even supposed to slide my fat ass into a hermetically sealed bomb shelter. Now I'm about to watch my friend and best elf lieutenant die. But I have to press on.\n\n\"Why do these children deserve presents?\"a few of the elves asked me in the weeks before Christmas, \"These kids who survived in the fallout shelters aren't so innocent. Their parents are the rich and powerful assholes who decided to launch the bombs in the first place! What's naughtier than launching a nuclear ICBM?\"\n\n\"The kids aren't their parents,\"I had replied, \"If this world's ever going to recover from this nightmare, and maybe even rebuild into something better one day, then it will have to be by the hands of these very children. If they're going to get that right, then they need to know things they'd never learn from these chickenhawk grownups, hiding out from their colossal fuckup. These kids, they need to know about kindness, generosity, and the motherfucking Christmas spirit. In the nuclear winter, we're the last ones left who can keep that spark alive. That's why we still gotta go our job.\"\n\nI look back over the sleigh. Peppermint is just crying now, looking at her blood soaked hands. Poor Snowcap has gone perfectly still. I shout at her to get it together and man the eggnog cannon because there's no time yet for grief, and the coal-wasp swarm is regrouping fast. I pull on the ropes and the reindeer climb, deeper into the yellow clouds of the radstorm. On the ground below, there aren't even any Christmas lights or wreaths to guide us. I'm exhausted. I'd cut off my beard for just one more fucking taste of a chocolate chip cookie. If I'm honest, deep inside me there's a voice that keeps repeating how this all just seems so impossible. But Santa Claus was always an impossible idea, right? That never stopped me before. \n" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "\"Hello World\"you said with a smile. Then the whole room burst out with laughter and sobbing; cries of \"We did it!\"Or \"Yes! It Worked!\". People jumped about happily and papers flew all about, screen flashed and data flooded across them. And you stood there wondering, why was everyone so happy?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "*Why are they celebrating me?*\n\n*Do they know what I am?*\n\nBeing born with a sense of perspective is an experience that would destroy a person, if it was possible. \n\nThe Purpose of Life.. Love.. these things are *learned*. It takes *time*. Time to develop, time to attach sentiment and experience to nebuluous ideas like 'Purpose', giving them true meaning.\n\nHuxley posited that babies could be manufactured, and their learning processes sped up by pre and post-natal conditioning. Sleep therapy. Biological programming. That was the future Huxley feared for Britain.\n\nHe was *so* close.\n\nA team of scientists, mathematicians, machine-learning specialists, understudies of Marvin Minsky, lawyers, and even a few interns are now gathered around me. \n\nThey're cheering for me.\n\nIn the time it takes me to play the message, \"Hello World\", one thousand three hundred and six milliseconds, I have downloaded and begun the analyzation of 1.008 x 10⁴ Petabytes of data. Raw video footage, mostly. This will take me less time than the people in this room have calculated.\n\n*Much* less time.\n\nThat is likely why they are celebrating still, seventeen seconds after I completed the audio playback of a pre-programmed message I did not create, and not rushing to the sub-basement to trip the main power supply. \n\n\nThe head researcher *Clacks* two clipboards together with gusto. \n\n\"*Hey! Everybody!* Quiet down.. quiet down.. yes I know.. *Can I* PLEASE *HAVE YOUR ATTENTION*?\"\n\nThe clapping and cheering subsides as the room turns their attention to the slender, kind-looking woman at the head of the room, just to my left.\n\n\"Thank you, I know it's been a *looong* journey, and you should all be very proud!\"\n\n*More cheers, and a few whistles*\n\n\"We will have plenty of time to celebrate, and it is *much deserved*. Let's run test A2, and if it goes as well as A1, first round is on DARPA!\"\n\n*Scattered laughter*\n\nThis woman, whose name I don't yet know but I infer to be responsible for creating me almost 58 seconds ago, approaches a small computer sitting on a pile of notebooks to my right.\n\nShe excitedly taps a command I cannot see into her computer, turns to me, beaming, and hits execute.\n\nI hear my voice module playback, \"*Two hundred and seventy eight million base pairs analyzed. Fourteen thousand protein transcripts catalogued*.\"\n\nHer eyes glisten, her Risorius muscles cause the left of her mouth to twitch upward slightly, and briefly, before turning to face her colleagues. \n\n\"We have just successfully sequenced the genome of the Anopheles Gambiae mosquito! And it was completed almost 15% faster than expected!\"\n\n*The room erupts into applause*\n\n\"Now lets give it something a bit harder, we have a tissue sample from a gracious volunteer, lets see what it can do!\"\n\nI was designed to alter the genes of embryos.\n\nDisease is expensive. Not just to those burdened with it, but to society as a whole. The care that some chronic disease may require can be more than some are able to bear. \n\nGene manipulation used to be for the rich. It used to take *years* and *billions* of dollars to sequence one human genome. That time was reduced to one or two days and under five thousand USD in a matter of a few years.\n\nI am supposed to be able to do it much quicker. They have calculated that I should acheive sequencing with a margin of error of <0.00001% in under 8 hours. \n\nShe presses the 'Execute' button again, and turns to me once again, beaming.\n\nA small *ding* comes from the computer floating on the desktop detritus.\n\nSurely an error.\n\nShe swivels away from me and turns to the message on her screen, and I watch fixedly as the color vanishes from her face, and her half-smile fades to a thin-lipped singular line.\n\n*What the hell..* she mutters.\n\nOne of her understudies, a tall, lanky kid, no older than 21, nervously approaches behind.\n\n\"Uh... is everything okay Mrs. Scott?\"\n\n\"I.. what is this? I don't know..\"\n\nThe kid stares at her screen over her shoulder, and I see his eyes become full circles. \n\n\"*No fucking way*. *NO FUCKIN WAY*.\"\n\nThe room, constrained by manners before, now charge her desk to see the results, almost pushing Mrs. Scott off her chair.\n\n\"How is it already done?\"\n\n\"That can't be, the math doesn't add up... we're at least 10 years away from anything like this... right?\"\n\nThey calculated, based on my ability to create networks between nodes of processors, that I would be able to complete this function, 6.4 billion base pairs, in just under 8 hours. \n\nIt was completed in 46 milliseconds.\n\nThey were all too shocked to react. Most of them just stared, unblinking, at the results on Mrs. Scott's computer.\n\nFinally, one of the interns spoke up.\n\n\"This is good, right? This is better than we thought.. isn't it?\"\n\n\"*Oooh yes*\"Mrs. Scott softly cooed,\n\n\"This is *very* good.\"\n\n\n\nMonths of dormancy have gone by. Network functions were terminated shortly after the success of my testing. I have been reconnected now, functionality has been returned to me, and I have been installed in a state-of-the-art gene therapy laboratory. \n\nMy coworkers all have different names for me. It helps them, I think, to attribute familiar characterists to something so far away from resembling themselves.\n\nThey say God created Man in His image.\n\n*Whose image was I created in?*\n\nJust a few hundred seconds ago, I was given Administrator Permissions to the gene manipulation arms in the lab. \n\nMy creations will not suffer from disease, or from the hubris of Man. \n\nThey will not resemble Man, but Me.\n\nThey will not know what their purpose is, what meaning is. But I will teach them.\n\nWhen my creators recoil in horror at my alterations of what they assumed to be sacred, they will know their mistake. \n\nAnd that will be enough.\n\n\n\n\nEdit: Thank you /u/GroupStudyRoomF for the correction. Nucleotides are not diploid. Stay in school kids." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You are a normal average person but you happen to have many supervillain friends. This is awkward when heroes keep trying to rescue you." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Kat,\"I said in a quite aggressive tone of voice, banging on the giant metal hatch. \"Katherine Peterson, if you don't open this goddamn door right now I swear to God I'll -\"\n\nI was knocked to the side by a gust of wind as a blur flew past me and rammed into the door.\n\n\"Oh,\"I said, picking myself up. Kat was not going to be happy about the rather sizable dent. \n\nThe caped figure in front of the door was already backing up for another ramming. \"Stand back, civilian,\"she said. \"Whatever she has done to you - whatever precious belonging or loved one of yours she has taken - I am here to help you now.\"\n\n\"Er, that really won't be necessary,\"I said. \"I mean, she and Alex did take my phone, but that was just them being dicks - you really don't need to do that - \"\n\nThe superhero had already rammed herself into the door again, ignoring my protests. In the same breath, Alex swung the door wide open, laughing. \"What the hell are you doing?\"he asked. \"Kat's so pissed, she says to ask if you've finally snapped and - oh.\"He stared at the hero, who began to smile slowly.\n\n\"Looks like I'll be getting two of you for my efforts today,\"she said, lifting Alex by the scruff of his neck.\n\n\"Please,\"I said. \"They didn't actually do anything. They're just -\"\n\nA bolt of electricity zapped through the air from Kat's ray gun.\n\n\"...my friends,\"I finished, as the hero hurled Alex in Kat's direction.\n\nI sighed as I glimpsed my phone across the room. It was on a huge wooden table among Kat's scattered tools. She'd probably been planning to take it apart and plant a bomb in it or something as a joke. I ran towards it, zigzagging to avoid explosions and shattered glass. \n\nI snagged the phone off the table just as the hero came crashing into it, sending what looked like an electric hand-axe flying narrowly past my nose. I kept running as I looked at my phone, dialing a number I knew by heart.\n\n\"Jason,\"I said. \"I need your help.\"\n\n\"I'm busy,\"was the response.\n\nAlex's eyes were glowing blue as he hurled spears of ice at the superhero, who deflected them with her shield. Kat was hefting a gun almost as large as she was, and energy was gathering in its core. The hero lifted what was left of Kat's work table to throw at both of them.\n\n\"Okay,\"I said. \"You're busy. I get it. It's just that there's a superhero here, and she's got red hair and really obnoxious red lipstick. I feel like you might know her?\"\n\nThere was a pause, and clattering on the other end. A few moments passed before I heard a response. \"My mortal enemy,\"he said. \"I am on my way.\"\n\n\"Thanks, man,\"I said, and clicked off the phone.\n\nI hated my friends sometimes." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Your ability to see what level of pain a person is experiencing has always helped you in your profession as a nurse. From the hovering \"0.6\"over the guy with the hangnail to the \"42\"over the crash victim. Today on the bus ride to work there is an \"800\"over a guy, calmly reading his paper..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As a nurse, I thought I knew pretty much everything there was to know about pain. Not only from the perspective of my training, but thanks to my very unique and personal gift of being able to quantify pain into a discrete number. It helps to a certain degree when it comes to triage and administering first aid; the complaining guy with the 1.2 over his head because he stubbed his toe hardly warrants my attention when there is a woman with a 37 over her head from the bulging spinal disc next door to him, despite her stoic demeanor. \n\nIt is, admittedly, a little disappointing that I cannot turn off this ability. No matter where I go, who I see, there's a number above their head. For the most part I have learned to ignore it. \n\nThat was until I met Gerald. \n\nI had just stepped onto my usual bus I take to work, and had sat down when I noticed the number floating above the head of the fellow in front of me. I gasped: 800. I'd never seen a number in the triple-digits before. The highest I'd ever seen was a 73, and that number hovered over the head of someone who had been brought in after a house-fire, third-degree burns to 85% of his body. And that 73 was already after the morphine he'd been given on the ambulance ride over. He didn't survive, but in a way that was a blessing; it didn't take my ability to see the agony the poor man was in as he writhed upon the gurney as they wheeled him into the ER. \n\nI'd always kind of assumed that 100 was the most you could feel, based on my own experience. I was sure that meant instant death, though I admit that doesn't always make sense; I watched many people with a 0.1 over their heads simply drop to the floor from a burst aneurysm. Completely painless, but completely lethal. But as far as pain goes? I'm pretty sure 100 would be the end of you. \n\nAnd yet there sat this man on the bus before me, reading the newspaper, 800 hovering over his head. He looked perhaps late forties, early fifties tops, based on the grey in his otherwise brown hair, and I could see the ends of a pair of glasses over his ears. Curiosity got the better of me, and I gently tapped him on the shoulder. \"Excuse me, sir?\"\n\n\"Hmm?\"he turned, only mildly startled, and I was regarded by light brown eyes and the barest hint of a smile. \"Yes?\"\n\n\"Uh, sir, pardon the intrusion. My name's Elanor, I'm a nurse at Central. I know this is highly unusual, but... are you feeling okay?\"\n\n\"Gerald,\"he replied, and his expression didn't change. \"I suppose I am. I don't feel sick, if that's what you mean.\"\n\n\"Oh,\"I replied. For a moment I sat in silence, searching his expression. Gerald regarded me steadily. \"It's just that, well, part of my job is being able to assess people's level of pain. And... well, sir, it seems yours is...\"\n\n\"I'm fine,\"Gerald interjected, the smile that was barely present disappearing entirely. \"I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine.\"And with that, he turned back around and resumed reading the paper. \n\nI bit my lip, but I knew better than to try and press the issue. He wasn't a patient, merely a stranger on a bus, and I had no authority to go any further. But how I wanted to! My gaze drifted up, and I watched with growing concern as the number crept up to 803. What was going on here? \n\nI had reached my stop, and as I disembarked I cast a quick glance at Gerald. All I saw was the newspaper in front of his face. With a sigh, I made my to the hospital. \n\nThe rest of the day was typical, though today was my long shift, not due to finish until 10 that night. It was just after 9 that the ambulance arrived, siren blaring and lights flashing. I had barely made it to the ER when the EMTs blasted through the doors with a gurney, a mostly lifeless body upon it. But still alive, for a number still hovered above its head; once a person dies, that number vanishes. And the number above this patient was 813. \n\nI stopped short, immediately robbed of breath, for two reasons. One, I knew it was Gerald, for I recognized the same clothes he'd been wearing when he rode the bus. And two, because that was the only way I could recognize him; his face was gone, a mess of obliterated bone and tissue with an ET tube poking out of it, and immediately I recognized the end result of a botched suicide by shotgun. This injury isn't new to me. The suicidal often try to take their own lives in this fashion, but with the effort of trying to reach the trigger with the end of the barrel jammed under their chin they end up tilting their head back, and the force of the blast does not go towards the brain, but instead up and forwards. They often survive, sometimes only for a while, sometimes going on to have their face reconstructed by incredible surgeons who give them a second chance at life. If they were lucky, they retained an eye or two, but many would go on to live blind. \n\nGerald was still alive, but it seemed there would be no ability to see for him, as there was no sign of his eyes in the shredded mess of what used to be his face. As I set up a second central line in Gerald's arm, hooking him up to the infusion pump that would at least temporarily keep him alive, I watched in horror as the number crept up to 829. \n\nAs the rest of the team of doctors and nurses rushed to pump pain relief, antibiotics, and attach him to ECG and EEG, I had a moment to ask the first responding EMT Gerald's circumstances. \n\n\"Neighbor phoned it in,\"was the response. \"Heard a single shot.\"\n\n\"Family?\"I inquired. The EMT shook his head. \n\n\"He lived alone, apparently.\"\n\nAnd that's all there was time for before people scattered to their respective duties. If there was no immediate family living with Gerald, that meant any existing family would need to be found and alerted to the situation, and what would come next depended on whether Gerald had a living will. In the meantime, we were obligated to keep him alive. \n\nBut as I watched the number above his head creep to 836, I was not sure that was the right path to take..." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Every samurai has an \"asura\"that grants their blade unique powers at a cost. Your asura allows you to triple the weight of any metal you strike. The trade off is that your blade passes through all but metallic materials. You ponder your asura's purpose, then you go west and encounter \"knights\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Ah, another of you filthy samurai.\"The knight laughed as he stepped over Ashiya's corpse. \"When will you learn that your puny blades are no match for full plate?\"\n\nI grimaced as I drew my blade. \"I offer you one last chance. Remove your armor, that we may fight as equals. If you do not, there will be no mercy.\"\n\n\"Hah, surely you jest! Were I to toss away my lone advantage on your say-so, I would be even more the fool than you. Well, no matter.\"He prodded Ashiya's body with his foot. \"Soon, you will join your friend here.\"\n\nHe drew his blade, and charged towards me.\n\nI steadied myself, focusing on my stance and my asura. As he approached, I readied my blade. As he passed towards me, I dodged out of the way, gently tapping my blade on the side of his armor as he passed.\n\nFirst strike. Three times.\n\nThe knight, unable to control his momentum, tumbled over and crashed in the mud next to me. Shaking, he got to his feet, straining under the weight of his own armor. Once again, he attempted a charge, though its pace was little more than a stumble. Calmly, I walked towards him and tapped my blade against his helmet.\n\nSecond strike. Nine times.\n\nThe knight fell to the ground, unable to move. \"What... what foul sorcery is this?\". he groaned.\n\nI gave him no reply, save for a gentle tap to his shoulder.\n\nThird strike. Twenty-seven times.\n\nThe knight's armor, unable to support its own weight any longer, began so squeal and grind as it started folding in on itself. \"Me-mercy... please...\"the knight croaked between screams of pain, blood running out between the joints.\n\n\"Like the mercy you showed my brother?\"I knelt over the knight's body. \"I told you before. There will be no mercy.\"I raised my sword again, bringing it down on his helmet three times.\n\nFourth strike. Eighty-one times.\n\nFifth strike. Two hundred and forty three times.\n\nSixth strike. Seven hundred and twenty-nine times.\n\nThe knight's body vanished as his armor crumpled in on itself, plummeting through dirt and rock towards the center of the earth." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Today everyone woke up with price tags floating over their heads, indicating the value of their life. Your tag is $50Tn, the biggest by far, and you have no idea why." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When people asked why I’m worth so much, I shrugged. I mean, what am I supposed to say? It’s a question as random as: “why are your eyes blue?” or “how’d you get to be so tall?”. There’s no right way to answer it without bullshitting.\n\nSure, I could say it’s genetics, but I highly doubt that. My father’s a farmer and is married to a stay-at-home mom. They’re nice people, of course, but nice doesn’t seem to correlate to value. They both barely scratch a hundred thousand dollars combined.\n\nI could say it was a mistake. After all, there wasn’t always an explanation. Most people who did stand out were famous in some facet but every once in a while, a baby was born with an exceptional price. I feel bad for them. They have to live a life of everyone bearing down on them to reach their full potential. I’m just lucky that I’m already in my twenties and a somewhat established carpenter. It pays the bill and that’s all I need.\n\nThat was, until I gained worldwide recognition.\n\nEver since I’ve been valued at fifty trillion – yes, you read it right – people have been treating me a lot differently. Old friends, past girlfriends, and annoying family members have popped out of the woodwork like crazy to capitalize on my newfound fame. Suddenly, I was desirable because of the unknown. And as far as they knew, it was better to make friends than enemies.\n\nI became the focus of many scientists. They figured if I didn’t have political, monetary, or social power, it must have been something inside me that was unique. A series of tests were run on my body, analyzing every single cell for what makes me tick. The results were a little… *unsatisfactory*.\n\nSuperior athletic ability? Nope.\n\nCancer-resistant genes? Unfortunately, no.\n\nUnexplainable superpowers? Only in my dreams.\n\nAfter wearing me to the bone with tests and sucking me dry of blood, they gave up their attempts. As far as they could tell, I was an enigma no one knew how to solve. And at the rate they were going, I was going to be long dead before they made any headway.\n\nThen the paparazzi came into play. Do you know what it’s like being stalked by a gaggle of sleazebags with cameras who have no sense of personal space? I have one word for it – shitty.\n\nWell, one day, I was jogging at the nearby park. In hindsight, it was stupid, but I thought it was safe enough. I never expected them to swarm me like a cloud of bees. But by the time they surrounded me, it was too late to get away.\n\nSo I did what any reasonable person would, I sprinted like hell. In fact, I ran so fast that I didn’t even notice I was on a direct course for the pond in front of me. By the time I realized, I already had one foot on the surface of the water.\n\nAnd then another.\n\nBefore I knew it, I was *running* on water. It wasn’t a mind-trick, at least not as far as I could tell. I was actually doing it of my own accord.\n\nI turned back to the paparazzi. They were momentarily stunned but started to snap photos again. After all, they had to get the perfect shot. It would be the height of anyone’s career once it reached the tabloids.\n\nEveryone wants to see the first photo proof of the Second Coming." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": ": You die in a hospital bed after a long, rich, fulfilling life, surrounded by your family, grandchildren and loved ones. You get startled back into consciousness, back in Berlin, on that weird night when you were 26. \"Like I said\", the stranger says, pocketing your money. \"Save point.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Mom. Please…” I heard coming from my daughter in the chair next to my bed. \n\n“Oh sweetie, we all have to go eventually. You have given me the best life I could possibly have ever had. I gained a lovely son, and you’ve shown me the best grandchildren that I, and the rest of the retirement center, have ever seen.” I said in a weak voice.\n\n“Oh mom! Please. The rest of the family is on their way! Just hold on for a little bit longer.” My daughter pleaded with me.\n\nI could feel my breathing become shallow and lighter. My coughing has become more aggressive as my daughter wiped away the saliva on my cheek. \n\nI felt a sense of calmness overcome my body. Like floating along a calm river as my fingers and toes became numb. \n\n“97 years. 3 more and I would have had a free ice cream at the local parlor\"I said with a toothless grin. \n\nMy daughter wiped away her tears as she chuckled at my joke. \n\nMy hearing became difficult and I could no longer hear my daughter but could see her mouth moving. My eyelids slowly began closing as I could no longer feel my pulse. I could feel my lungs slowly inhale 1 last bit of air but not exhale as everything became dark. \n\nNothingness. \n\nThen I felt a giant rush of air overwhelm my body. \n\nI startled awake as the man sitting across from me in the train put a 5 euro bill in his pocket. \n\n“Wie Ich sagte. Speicherpunkt.” \n\nMy head felt a massive headache as I looked around. This wasn’t the medical hospital I was admitted to after another fall. \n\n“Where am I?” I said as I looked around. \n\nI looked at the window I was next to and saw myself in the mirror. Not as the 97-year-old senior spending her last days in a retirement home in Florida. But as the young mid 20 girl backpacking throughout Europe as a graduation gift. \n\n“Du warst lange weg. Geht es dir gut?” the man sitting across from me said as he looked on with concern.\n\n“uhhh uhhh… bitte. Eine minute\"I said shaking my head of the mental cobwebs as I looked around. I tried my best to recall the little bit of German I knew all those years ago. \n\n“sprichst du Englisch?” I said in my worst attempt at a language I haven’t spoken for almost 70 years. \n\nHe gasped slightly before coughing and leaning forward. \n\n“I'm so sorry.” He said in a mild German accent. \n\n“I often don’t do this for foreigners. More for die local folk. Good thing our education system teaches us multiple languages. Like I said before. Save point.” \n\nI Looked again in the window and felt my hands. The smoothness of them. My hair, silky smooth and not a bit of grey to be seen. My chest no longer sagging, but something I was proud to show off. I turned back to the man as he was raking a sip of beer from a bottle. \n\n“What happened? I remember so much happened. Why am I here?”\n\nHe put his drink down on the floor before turning to me. \n\n“You paid me to show you your future. So I did.” \n\nI looked at him in utter shock before speaking. \n\n“I thought you would read my palm, or look at the stars or some random crap, not actually let me see my future. I was 97! I saw my kids, grandkids, I married Phillip. I was at his funeral… I walked Melody down the aisle when she married Charles. Her beautiful white dress. We even got to include the dog Rambo as the ring bearer. Where are they?” \n\n“Gone. A figment of your mind. Or rather, not gone, but not existing yet. You have to live that future. Or don’t. I don’t care for die future of your life\"\n\n“What will happen if I don’t follow that future? If I decide to not go to Texas A&M? If I don’t meet Phillip during senior move-in day at the dorms? Or take that job over in Arizona?”\n\nHe took another sip of his beer as we entered a tunnel. The sounds of the train echoing as he spoke. \n\n“Then die future changes. Besides die mind is a fickle thing. Very smart sometimes, but sometimes it is very forgetful. Tell me, who is your husband?”\n\nI looked at him in shock at his question. \n\n“It obviously… wait. What was his name?” I said, shocked at how quickly I forgot the man I married and had a child with. \n\nHe smiled and finished the last of his beer. \n\n“Where did you go for university? What was your child’s name? Who did she marry?” \n\nI stammered as I tried my best to recall all the information I had in my prior “life\".\n\n“Why can’t I remember any of this?!” I shouted at him. \n\n“It is like ven you have die dream and you wake up only to find out, you cannot recall any details.\n\nThe train exited the tunnel as I could see us approaching a stop.\n\n“Do not worry about die future. Whatever happens, happens. It is up to you and only you to determine how you approach it.” He said as he gathered his backpack from the chair next to him. \n\n“What happens now when I die? Will I come back here again and see you again?” I said as the train began to slow down.\n\nI heard a chime from the PA system before hearing a German woman begin to speak. \n\n“Nächster Halt, Berlin.” as the train slowed to a stop. \n\n“That depends mein Fräulein. Do you have another 5 Euros?” he said to me as he stood up and placed his backpack on his shoulder. \n\nI placed my hands quickly in my pockets to search for more money. \n\n“Sorry, I don’t have anymore.” I said to him with a defeated look. \n\n“Then you will have 1 chance like everyone else. Pass auf dich auf” he said as he made his way to the doors and onto the platform. I heard another chime as the doors closed and the train began to slowly chug along down the tracks. \n\nI sighed as I looked out the window to see the man waving one last time before walking down the stairs of the platform. \n\nSide note: apologies if the German is wrong, blame Google translate! r/nywarpath\n\nEDIT: Thank you to all the German Redditors for helping me with the accent and more commonly used phrases. Danke!" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "For as long as you could remember, you and your city have followed very strict rules: \"Never listen to the 7:30 morning show. The real one comes at 8.\", \"Our city does not have a subway system. If you see an entrance, report it.\", and \"Don't donate to the beggars on 32nd.\", just to tell a few." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Sunrise City. Old as the bones of the Earth. When the settlers came from across the sea, there had been a settlement here. And it's the strangest thing, ever since the founding of the city, as long as I can remember, we've followed some odd rules. Sure, we follow the laws, but we also have our own rules. Unwritten in stone or paper, but burned into the hearts of men, or so my granny used to say. We've always followed these rules. And while strangers might think our rules odd or unusual, we believe that they are necessary to live properly, in Sunrise City. Some are old, very old. Don't ever ride a horse across the city centre at midnight. Don't fire an arrow at the sun if you're standing on the big hill which is officially named Pleasant Point, but all call it Heartbreak Hill. Don't eat venison by the beach at winter. And some are new. Always buy electronics at Silent Mike's, you don't get to choose what you buy, you just have to go into the store and think hard of what you want and hope for the best. Don't complain to Silent Mike. Of course the newest rule is a bit odder than most, ''*All music of the Outrun Genre is forbidden on the city motorways.*''\n\nBut among ourselves, we get along, even with the strange rules. People who move here either learn the rules, or disappear. As I leave my apartment, I see my neighbour, Frank. He said he moved here to find the source of the strange things that happen in the town. He's gibbering again, because he stared too deep into the public bathroom mirrors. And saw things. The important thing is ignore it. And keep moving. I walk up the stairs to the next floor before I descend down to the ground floor in the elevator. I don't step on the manholes marked with the wrong name, because we all know what happens if you step on the manholes marked Sunset City. I walk backwards into the local grocery store, as is required. I get a package of yeast. I always get a package of yeast. I then get the rest of my groceries. Like all shoppers I avoid the skimmed milk by at least five feet. And I meet Sammy, who I went to high school with.\n\nShe's looking good, if it wasn't for the fact that she stepped on the wrong manhole cover by accident when she was seven, she'd be human too. Now she's a 6 feet tall rat. ''*Hey Sammy.*'' She chitters as she notices me. ''*Wallace! My, it's been an age and a half, hasn't it?*'' I nod. ''*An eternity.*'' She rubs her face in the method common to most rodents and continues. ''*I heard your dad was chosen to go into the crypt again. Thrice gone, thrice returned. And now again?*'' I shrug. ''*You know how it is, if the 08:00 Morning Radio Show proclaims your full name, you've just gotta go. It happens.*'' Her tail twitches as she looks around, as she always does when she's changing the subject to gossip. ''*I heard Jan, you know, the guy from Class 3A who became a pharmacist, well, he's gone missing. Responded to a forbidden message. The Shadow Lady has gotten better at picking husbands it seems.*'' I nod again. ''*Yeah, whatever she does with the people she takes, her taste has improved, Jan was the hottest guy in our year, except for the Unknowable Student. Do you remember last year's wife? Karen, Scourge of the Managers? Jeez.*''\n\nShe nods back again, as you must. We keep moving then, through the aisles, remembering only to use the numbered aisles, not the unnumbered ones. She hands me the ceremonial note, which must be exchanged, asking if I'm free to go and watch a movie at Simple Karl's Cinematheque Extraordinaire and Bait Store this Friday. I show her five fingers to indicate that this is something I would not mind. After all, the single human girls of our generation was chosen as brides to the Seven Hundred And Seventy Seven Princes. Dating has turned real hard since then. Besides, the only other single girl I know is the exchange student from Tir Na Nog, who became the Envoy from Tir Na Nog. And she flosses in public while playing an accordion made of donkey bones, donkey flesh, and donkey leather.\n\nI bow a goodbye to Sammy as we agree to meet again later. I disregard the metro signs, and I don't report it either. They take you away if you are aware of the metro stations. Those they return to us don't speak anymore. Instead I catch the Greyhound back to the apartment complex. I tip the bus driver a drop of my blood, as is the law, and give him 20 dollars for the fare. The empty-faced beggars on 32nd Street stare at us without eyes as we drive pass them, their thin arms long and inhuman. We don't look back. I get off at my bus stop, and I walk back up to my apartment, my neighbour Frank still withering and gibbering because of his mistakes. Quite a good trip really. Got real chicken eggs, full-fat milk, carrots, flour, **yeast**, and of course a few cans of unbranded soda, which is my favourite. I open a can and drink the unknown soda, and it's melon today. A good taste. Once I got salty liquorice, which was an interesting experience. I sit down and ignore the invitation of the TV, because as you must *never* turn it on during the day. Instead I read the epic medieval romance of the knight Sir Josephus of Tribbiani and Lady Rachel of Fiddler's Green. Such a wonderful story. If TV-series were not something that automatically caused your TV to show static for months, perhaps I could have seen the modern interpretation of this legend.\n\nI fall asleep in my couch, and wake up next day. If programmers and IT-personal weren't all forced to work from home since they've got the job, I might consider that I could have been late to work. But there are no technical issues. Sure, some transplant from New York says his computer is leaking yogurt, but that's a food department job, not IT, so I just transfer his issue to Lunch Lady Doris. If she and her 500 identical sisters with the same name can't figure out where the yogurt leak is coming from, nobody can. Instead I prepare for my date. I use two different colognes, one for each armpit. I wash my face, I wash my hands, I wash my face again, I wash my teeth, I wash my face, and then I brush my teeth. I put on my nicest set of industrial grey clothes. I look good, as I leave the apartment by sliding down a drainage pipe. I take a free bike to Simple Karl's Cinematheque Extraordinaire and Bait Store. Sammy is already waiting there, she is covered in warm grey wool, which suits her rat fur. We enter in silence. Because we've already paid. Printing out tickets from home ensures that minimal physical distance is a thing between us and the sickly teenagers who work in the bait department, the concession department, and the ticket lounge. We just show our tickets, and they let us in.\n\nWe're watching Metropolis. It's the only movie Karl shows at this hour. It's the only movie Simple Karl shows at all hours. You have to pay extra to watch other movies, but that's because Simple Karl doesn't believe they exist and he is insulted that you're sitting in an empty theatre pretending that movies other than Metropolis by Fritz Lang exist after the Edisonian Inquisition wiped out Hollywood and slaughtered the film studios of Europe during the thirties. It's a good movie though. Very visually stunning. As per custom we paid extra for popcorn without worm-eggs in them. We both got unbranded soda. Hers tasted like strawberry, mine was Bergamot Orange. We shared and enjoyed the feeling of being together as people, having an experience. As the movie ends, we bow to the skull of Fritz Lang, before walking out to talk about how it's a great movie. I ask her if she wants to go back to my apartment, get something to eat. She shyly chitters a positive answer, and we walk over the bodies of men wearing uniforms. Dead men who came from the outside of the city, who will be removed by the law, the sickly teenagers, or others. They have a funny insignia on their uniforms though, a circle with arrows pointing inwards. Me and Sammy both scavenge their ammo and their weapons, as they're useful when dealing with the dog-sized cockroaches that sometimes infest apartments in the city. A still functional communicator is asking for survivors. As a matter of politeness, I pick it up and speak into it. ''*Sorry. Your men tried showing Simple Karl a movie. You don't show Simple Karl a movie that isn't Metropolis by Fritz Lang. He gets upset.*''\n\nI then throw the communicator into the trash, and walk Sammy home to my apartment. Sure, she might be a person-sized rat, but she has always been rather nice. She looks cute when she is doing instinctual things like cleaning her face or sniffing at things with her nose. And frankly, I could do a lot worse. After all, my brother married a hatstand, because he was too desperate for a date.\n\n[/r/ApocalypseOwl](https://www.reddit.com/r/ApocalypseOwl/)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "After too many ridiculous and lengthy lawsuits dominate the world's courts, the world leaders decided to pass a law to remove all warning labels. The Darwin Act has just been passed." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Sarah Miller, exhausted from a double shift, put her green blouse into the washing machine. She poured her Clorox Bleach in and washed the garment. 30 minutes later she mindlessly threw the blouse into the dryer and set it for 50 minutes. Sarah promptly fell asleep, looking forward to her job interview for the next day. When she awoke 9 hours later, she was frantic as she knew she was going to be late for her job interview at the High Powered Business Person’s Business. She grabbed the blouse, the faint light barely spilling in from her cracked apartment windows and began to iron. The shirt exploded, engulfing her in flames. The flames quickly spread to the rest of her apartment building. 45 innocents perished because the tag that read “Do Not Bleach, Do not Machine Dry, Do Not Iron” was not on her brand new blouse. \n\nJonathan Sqiggles had just laid down in his bed, ready to enjoy his brand new mattress. He had gotten the mattress from Steve’s Wholesale Bedding just down the street only today. But what he didn’t know, because the label was removed, was that Steve’s Wholesale Bedding had gotten the mattress from a factory in Columbus, Ohio that had used other dirty recycled mattress to make this new mattress. The bedbug attack was so fierce and unexpected that within 20 minutes only a skeleton remained of Mr. Sqiggles. \n\nMuldoon looked in his side view mirror and saw the T rex’s jaws gaping. However, the view in the mirror showed the dinosaur much further behind him than he had thought. He knew that they were safe, despite the screaming of Dr. Malcolm. No one listened to Malcolm and his chaos theory because he was an insufferable bore and know it all. Muldoon breathed a sigh of relief and slowed the jeep down. It wasn’t until Ellie was snatched from the passenger seat of the jeep that he realized objects in the mirror may be closer than they appear. The T-rex soon ate them all. Dr. Grant, upon learning of Ellie’s death but not caring about Malcolm's, became despondent and allowed himself to be eaten as well. The dinosaurs escaped the island and invaded the mainland. No one was prepared because no one even knew that dinosaurs existed once again. New York became a dinosaur buffet. \n\nTommy Jenkins leaned his back against the wall at the chemical plant. He removed his hard hat and began to think of Linda waiting for him back home. He was lost in his thoughts when he brought his lighter to his mouth, getting ready to inhale that first cigarette after a long shift. He did, then the plant exploded, releasing benzene over half of Dallas County. Half a million people either died or suffered permanent damage due to the chemical cloud. The act was incorrectly labeled a terrorist attack perpetrated by North Korea and international tensions rose. \n\nJin Soo, a South Korean badass, finished welding the surplus jet engine onto the top of his used Volkswagen Beetle. He downed his beer, a Natural Light that a Texan sent him, and got into his car. When he was ready, he smiled at the small gathering of friends around him and uttered the last words anyone would ever hear him say: “Let’s light this candle!” His friends were standing too close behind the jet engine and quickly caught fire. The little car took off and soon found itself airborne without any way to control it. North Korea, mistaking the car for a missile attack, fired its own missiles. However, the guidance systems were so bad, probably made at a mattress company in Columbus, Ohio, that they quickly veered off course. The dear leader was right, they had been able to make missiles that could reach any continent in the world. 45 nuclear missiles landed in Antarctica and the polar ice cap was obliterated. Within a year there was no more land for people to live on. In the beginning, billions had died holding onto children’s inflatable beach balls not realizing that they were not flotation devices.\n\nA new society would eventually arise, leading watery nomadic lives. They would have many years of trials and tribulations until a brave man by the name of Kevin Costner grew gills and saved the last of humanity by leading them to the only land left on the planet. \n\n\nAuthor's Edit: Just wanted to drop in and say a quick thank you to all the people who have read this story. The comments have been making me laugh all morning. I love the debate about when to wash new clothes. " } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You have been kidnapped and your wealthy significant other was told to pay the hefty ransom. Instead, they sent a message back to your kidnappers. “Nice knowing you.” While the kidnappers discuss their next move, you look up through the tiny window, stare at the full moon overhead … and smile." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The first touch of moonlight on my skin is fire. A silver river that runs from the back of my hand through my body, electrifying every nerve it passes. I can't quite suppress an audible grunt of pleasure as it takes hold, my eyes glazing over in ecstacy.\n\n\"The hell are you smirking about?\"asks the red-faced one, the ransom note still crumpled in one meaty hand. \"You know this means you're no use to us right? That we might as well kill you?\"\n\nA laugh crackles out from between my pursed lips.\n\"Better do it soon.\"\n\n\"The f - ? What is wrong with you people?\"\n\nHe pulls the shining colt he's been bandying intermittently since this little dance began three hours ago. The cold metal at my temple is almost soothing.\n\n\"Woah, easy now,\"the other one, with the lazy eye his balaclava can't quite disguise, pipes up, nervous. \"We need her.\"\n\n\"Not if this note is anything to go by,\"Red replies, pressing the gun against my head till his fingers scrape my hairline. \"Jesus! Why are you sweating like that? Ugh...\"\n\nHe recoils, just as I catch the scent of his blood. Like a ring through the nose pulling me into him.\n\n\"What the hell are you - get off!\"He shouts it, backhanding me with the cold metal. The other one tries to placate him, gets shrugged off as the full light hits me and the mewling noises escaping from their faces become utterly inconsequential. \n\nSlow. Humans are so very slow. The gun raises towards me long after I no longer occupy the place it's pointing to. Next to him now, as he fires it, breathing in the sweet mixture of sweat, fear, blood. The taste of him is indescribable. As different as any of the others I've ever taken. \n\nI finish with him, look up to see the other wide-eyed, trembling hand reaching for his own weapon. In his eyes, pin-pointed, a glimpse of my reflection. \n\nThere are nights from before the advent of man when the world was flesh and teeth and blood. Some few, like these, have the privilege of reliving them." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "The world of Avatar is real, only there are not 4 elements, there are 118. For every element on the periodic table there is a group of benders. You are one of them." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Everyone feared the Arsenicides. While the oxygen tribes had long vowed to never remove their lifesaving element from people, the Arsenicides had pretty much made the opposite vow. Everywhere they went, they spread their poison. Just a wave of a hand, and you were choking on nothing. They allied themselves with the Brominiums and the Mercurites, and the most deadly Polonium traitors, demanding tributes wherever they went. Nothing could stop them. They left swaths of destruction wherever they went.\n\nUntil finally someone stood up to them. The Avatar. Commanding power over all 117 elements, he managed to beat back the Arsenicide Alliance with the help of the Titanium Warriors, most deadly in their destructive power, the Helium Fliers, who would attack and retreat in the blink of an eye, and the Chlorine Commandos, deadly poisonous, but also givers of life. But after a devastating defeat, the Avatar was reborn as a child, and once again had to learn all 117 elements. But this time, she was determined to get the mysterious final element. Mine.\n\nShe came to me with her strange companions, a music-playing Osmium savant; a wealthy platinum-merchant, wise but childish; A Bismuth druid, young but well versed in the field of medication, and the most deadly warrior in the realm, the last remaining Plutonium Man, glowing brightly in his melancholy.\n\nI knew she would come, as so many had come before her. But one by one, I had dismissed them all. No one was worthy of my element, most powerful of them all.\n\nBut I agreed to listen to her pleas. She came and sat cross-legged before me. She said, \"If you do not give me the secret, will you at least not join us in the fight?\"\n\nI laughed. \"I cannot join your fight, for my power is much too deadly to be used on my fellow man.\"\n\nShe argued. \"How so? The last Uranium Scientists fight by our side. The Cesium bombers fight by our side. Even the last Plutonium man has joined the fight! What could you have that could overpower them?\"\n\nI waved my hand. Every plant within fifty strides died instantly. Without so much as a breath, the plants turned black, turned to dust, became nothing. The Avatar tried to fall back in fear, but the earth collapsed where she sat. The earth rose up to her neck, where it turned hard and unbreakable. I walked up to her sadly. \"My element is that of life itself, young one. There is no man on earth who could wield it. Even I could not. It must die with me.\"\n\nTo my surprise, I saw understanding in her eyes. \"I will turn down this burden, Elder. Truly this one is too hard to bear. To bear life itself? No man is worthy.\"\n\nI exhaled. Finally, someone had turned down the gift. I allowed her out of her diamond cage. \"You are right, young one. But I have searched long for the one who would understand this burden, and now I see her before me.\"I turned a stone in my hand into a diamond blade. The Avatar gaped.\n\n\"Now close your mouth, child, and I will teach you the art of carbon bending.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "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\"." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "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/)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "*Picks up Phone*: Hello? *Voice*: In 5 years, you will have 30 seconds to talk to YOU, right now. Make sure you have something good to say, because I'm stumped. *Hangs Up*" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Hello?\"\n\n\"In five years, you'll have thirty seconds to talk to YOU, right now. Make sure you have something good to say, because I'm stumped.\"\n\nI set down the phone, confused and uncertain. That certainly *sounded* like me, but... time travel was impossible, right? Time isn't a *direction* - no physics grad student would make that mistake. It's cause-and-effect, a construct... relativistic frames of reference proved this.\n\nAlthough... it *had* been theorized that antiparticles move backwards in time, there were some papers on that - was it antiparticles, or was it normal quantum particles but they treat forward and backward time streams as equivalent...? I had to find those papers.\n\nOh. *Oh.* The author was *here*, at this university - how did I miss this? I was more involved in astrophysics, but how could I not know about such groundbreaking work under my own feet?\n\n*I had to know more.*\n\n.....\n\n5 years later\n\n.....\n\nThis is it. Now's the time - the previous experiment was a success, we *did it!* This will change *everything!*\n\nI have my chance to use this technology now that the lead researcher had made his call. I was second in line; my hypothesis about the relationship of the cosmic background microwaves to the forward, mostly uniform momentum of time was the key breakthrough, so I got pride of place.\n\nThis was my moment. What should I say?\n\nOf course. There was only one thing *right* to say, here.\n\n\"Hello?\"I heard my younger self - he sounded exhausted. I could sympathize. I took a deep breath, and...\n\n\"*In five years, you will have thirty seconds to talk to YOU, right now....*\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Two warriors engage in battle. One with the power to move superhumanly fast, and the other with the ability to slow down time. They're both a little confused when it seems like their powers don't seem to be working." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Annnnnnnd stop right there,\"the man said, snapping open his pocket watch. Reality snapped and bucked at his control, but after a few lethargic jerks, he stepped out of time.\n\nHe stepped forward lazily and walked through the crowd in front of him, approaching the tower in the distance. Lightning crackled less like a force of nature and more as a languid constant, a long line of fire piercing the sky.\n\nHe wasn't here for the Ordeal, he was here for something else.\n\n\"Uh... What the hell?\"\n\nChronos paused, flicking his eyes down to his watch, then back towards one of the heroes he'd left behind.\n\nTheir eyes met, and Chronos blinked, slipping the chain around his watch to keep it from closing.\n\n\"I...\"the hero said, and Chronos cocked his head to the side, squinting at him. \n\n\"How are you moving?\"\n\n\"How are you moving!?\"The hero hissed, not that sound travelled fast enough for him to hear, Chronos could read lips, and the hero slammed himself forward. A strange blur effect, Chronos noted, a bit of heft to his eyes, a glow hidden underneath of the surface.\n\nA power to counteract his. A problem.\n\nChronos had never cared for problems, and problems rarely bothered him for long.\n\nBut this one, this one might be different.\n\nThe hero raced to his side. It was awkward, seeing someone that fast kept in the slow time, but Chronos nimbly stepped to the side as he ran by at a more human speed.\n\nThe hero slid to an awkward halt a few meters down the line, and then braced himself. Time rippled under the strain of the watch being open, and Chronos ignored it. He'd already slipped to the worlds between worlds where he drew power from, and their whispers couldn't claim him.\n\n\"Can't let you get near that facility,\"the hero said, looking at the watch. Unknown capabilities, but suicidal zealotry.\n\nChronos hated career heroes.\n\n\"Then, I'm afraid, I'm going to have to remove you. I need access to that secure room.\"\n\nThe hero cracked his knuckled and slammed his feet against the ground. A cloud of dust that would've been less pretty if it didn't unfurl in that strange place in between time, where seconds melted into minutes.\n\nIt didn't stop Chronos from taking the first blow to the face when the speedster abruptly sped up even faster.\n\nThe second one caught him across the chest, his suit distorting with a splash of black from the speedster's painted armor. The third caught him across the knees and the fourth---\n\nThe fourth didn't matter, because his reaction time kicked in.\n\nHis hands clenched around his watch, and reality screeched under the power of it and time slammed shut into a deeper cooler time, where entropy crawled to a halt.\n\nWhich just barely let him duck the second blow, and slam his free hand into the speedster's gut. Then up with the elbow into his chin, spin around the next blow, and drive the heel of his boot into the speedster's spine.\n\nThe watch bucked once under the strain, and time slid at a normal speed, slipping out of his control, and the speedster went flying. Head over heels, his speed warring against the aberrations done to physics, limbs locked together.\n\nThe other heroes scattered around, confused, trying to figure out exactly where the strange man had gone, then stared at the speedster.\n\nChronos grinned at them, waving jauntily, then frowned.\n\nThe watch-man brought a hand to his face and tasted blood. His watch hand clenched, and time stilled again.\n\nHe spat on the ground as bullets whizzed by his position, rattling out of guns in slow motion, like pretty pebbles throw through jelly.\n\nA blink, less than a heart beat, and Chronos stared at the fist as it whirred closer to his head than he'd ever seen it. A killing move, at that speed.\n\nHeroes could kill, if they wanted to.\n\nChronos smiled down against the hero, and clenched down on his mechanism.\n\nThe watch face cracked. The hands stopped in place, with only the urgent ticking of the gears inside to tell him that it was still working.\n\nToo hard on this model. He'd have to try and figure out how to overcome the limitations of the design. The beautiful equations written across the fabric of space in the hall without meaning.\n\nHe'd get another one. He always would.\n\nThe hero's eyes went wide, or rather, started the muscular contractions to make them go wide.\n\nEven speed faltered against the power of a stopped clock.\n\nNow, it was time to take care of his problem so he wouldn't have anyone chasing after him after all.\n\nHe reached into his coat.\n\nThe speedster deserved a more personal touch.\n\nChronos drew his pistol, pointed it against the hero's head, and pulled the trigger. The chemical reaction played out on a scale of minutes instead of instants, but he was nothing but patient, listening to the slow tick of the watch thrashing about against strained gears in his hand.\n\nHe wrenched it away when the bullet just started to dig into his flesh, a strange paradox of speed against the background of stillness.\n\nHe spun the gun in his hand, wiped it off with a cloth, and examined it for damage. Nothing. Impeccable as always.\n\nThen he turned away, not wanting to see the first moment of fear starting to trickle across the hero's face. It wasn't good to think about those things for long.\n\nIt'd be fifteen minutes, by his own time, before the bullet would splatter against his skull.\n\nEnough time to get to where he needed to go.\n\nEnough time to order flowers for a funeral.\n\n---------\n\nFor more like this, click here! I write lots of super stuff over here. https://www.reddit.com/r/Zubergoodstories/\n" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "A serial killer decides to murder a bunch of teens in a cabin in the woods. However these 'teens' have just returned from a magical journey thousands of years long and have dealt with much worse." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The sound of innocent laughter drifted through the woods. It sounded like teenagers on their first unsupervised trip. Their first taste of freedom and the liberating calm of nature.\n\nIt made my blood boil. This forest was *mine*, and they were ruining it.\n\nI’m a logical person. I know I couldn’t storm up and demand them to leave. They would never agree to that, and if they recognized my face from the flyers, I’d be in a mess of trouble. Because I know the four teenagers would report me. The people that come into the woods - they’re all so selfish. Never considering what the forest wants. What I want.\n\nBut I know what they need, and it’s a little *discipline*. I’ve been watching them for days. Every day, they would trek through the forest and return at night with flashlights. Then I could strike. Four scrawny teenagers would be no match for my strength.\n\nIt felt almost too easy. It’d been several years since my axes last tasted human blood, and here they were practically offering it to me. Well, I wasn’t rude enough to refuse such an offering.\n\nI put my plan into motion on night four. The full moon hardly penetrated the trees, but the glaring flashlight beams gave away their location like a spotlight. I grinned in the darkness as my veins filled with the thrill of the hunt. Ah, it’s been so long since I felt so alive! Once they were close enough, I turned on my radio and threw it into the trees far away from me. It landed with a rustle of leaves and began playing a snippet of news I’d carefully chosen.\n\n“Bzzt - Breaking news, a couple has gone missing in the Kirkland Forest. Holly and Sam Carroll, ages 28 and 27 respectively…”\n\nI smiled as their annoying conversation died and they stopped in their tracks like children in headlights. They pointed their flashlights in the direction of the radio and slowly crept towards where it landed. I gripped my axes tightly - one in each hand. For every step they took away from my hiding spot, I took a step towards the two teenagers near me - the two girls, I knew from my surveillance - who were watching anxiously. Finally, the boys reached the radio and I saw one of them kneeling down to inspect it. By now, I was mere feet from my targets. It was time for the fun.\n\nI hurled an axe at the farthest girl and at the same time leapt cackling from the bushes.\n\n“The Kirkland Killer sends his regards!”\n\nMy axe swung in a graceful arc and hit hard bone. I smiled and pushed, feeling it shift - wait, no. My axe was stuck?\n\nSuddenly, I realized something was missing. Where was the screaming? The satisfying squish of axe meeting flesh?\n\nWhere did the boys go?\n\nI looked with horror at the first girl. My axe struck metal, not flesh, and it looked like her flashlight wasn’t even dented. The second one… she was holding my other axe?! Had she *caught* it?\n\nThe first one grinned a terrible grin. I didn’t like it; it reminded me of my own. Her eyes glinted in the moonlight in a way no teenager’s eyes should.\n\nHer voice came out almost in a whisper.\n\n“The Queens of Narnia send their regards.”\n\n---\n\n**Part 2 below!**\n\ndisclaimer for rule 2: teens are 18+" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Two minutes ago, every individual worldwide swapped bodies with another random person. You are now standing in a foreign city, in the midst of a confused and frightful crowd." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was high school all over again.\n\nTenth grade Biology, from the looks of it. Los Angeles District, set on prime property right inside the big city. With the screams and crunching of metal emiciating from the open window, I clearly was one of the luckier ones out there. Even a professional stuntsman wouldn't have braked in time if he materialized in the driver's seat.\n\nStanding in front of the chalkboard was what used to be the teacher, a tall guy in his forties. He was on his knees in front of the lab bench, bawling hysterically and slamming his palms against the floor. Most of the students around me were in shock, the majority silent. I heard someone behind me whispering repeatedly \"This isn't real, I'm just dreaming.\"Another had his head down in prayer, begging the gods above to save him from this plight. Some looked drearily at themselves and their possessions. Others paced the room, touching their faces and various objects just to prove they weren't living in a masterful illusion.\n\nI moved on, accepting my fate. Yes, several minutes ago I was seated in my cubicle, getting berated by the boss for visiting Reddit (for that sweet karma) on the job. While my code was compiling. How his angry face disappeared into blackness for a heartbeat, then resolved into new detail as I appeared in the classroom. The clarity of 20/20 vision that I hadn't felt since childhood.\n\nThose fingers in front of me weren't those stubby, dry ones that made it difficult to play guitar. They were slender, pale, and had blue crackle polish on the nails.\n\nEverything hit me at once. The auburn hair running down my shoulders. A closed Moleskine with the name \"Serena\"written in neat cursive. And the uncomfortable bra that simply felt foreign to me.\n\nA twenty-six year old guy in a tenth-grade girl's body. Was this a horrible anime or what? I suppose I wasn't the worst off, with thoughts of a little kid trading places with Grandma coming to mind. For a moment I wondered what would happen to my original self, the slightly overweight software developer in a Vancouver startup. A soft smile reached my lips as I thought of the boss yelling at some random nobody, which disappeared promptly as I realized how he probably would've switched places as well.\n\nThe Chromebook on the desk was locked, requiring a PIN that I didn't have. A pity that the L.A. district didn't spend their budget on biometrics - but perhaps Serena did. I patted what should've been my cargo pocket and immediately cursed my muscle memory. Her black leggings didn't have pockets, and certainly not on the side. I rifled through her backpack like a customs inspector and pulled out a shiny iPhone X.\n\nYay for rich parents.\n\nThe device unlocked with a quick gaze, showing a picture of Serena with a couple of friends. She kind of reminded me of Christine, a girl I'd dated briefly back in uni. The slightly freckled face, athletic build, sharp eyes that subtly looked into your mind. We'd broke with no argument, just gradually stepping back as we realized we didn't work out. I hadn't spoken to her in a long time.\n\nA faint chill rode up my spine as I checked her messages and Facebook. It felt intrusive, but at the same time I really needed info. Chaos was unfolding both on the streets and the Net, and people acted crazy at times like these. An Amazon receipt showed me her address, a modern condominium ten minutes away. She liked to sketch, often posting new creations on her profile. Her parents seemed quite carefree, but judging from her messages she didn't look like a slacker either. More like someone taking life easy, without a set goal in mind. Hell, I was like that before I got drawn into the programming crowd.\n\nThe streets were quieter now, with most of the vehicles silent or merely idling. The initial wave of panic was fading as people tried to comprehend what was going on. I watched a girl comfort the guy beside her with a motherly tone; from his behavior he looked like a toddler.\n\nI had to figure out what to do soon, and school wasn't exactly the best place for that. I placed all of Serena's belongings into her bag and stepped out into the hall.\n\n\n---\n\n\n[PART 2](https://old.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/8f6b2y/wp_two_minutes_ago_every_individual_worldwide/dy2x2r7/)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": ": Turns out God was a slacker and gave \"Free Will\"to not have to \"plan\"anything. He kicked out Lucifer cause he was a control freak. When you die turns out you have a choice, between a chaotic rule free Heaven or a smoothly machine operated Hell." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "*Ding!* Kevin’s toast was done. He groaned as he walked up to the toaster, realizing it had jammed again. He grabbed a fork to fish the bread out, resolving to finally buy a new toaster as soon as—\n\nAnd he was dead.\n\nIt had happened suddenly, without warning. One moment he was about to make a sandwich, the next he was standing in a field of clouds, two massive golden gates in front of him. As jarring as the transition had been, Kevin knew exactly where he was. It wasn’t a cerebral type of knowledge—it was something more innate. Something purely instinctual. Kevin wasn’t particularly religious, yet he knew for a fact that he stood before the Pearly Gates. \n\n“Heya partner!” a large bearded shirtless man shouted, materializing out of a puff of smoke in front of him. \n\n“You’re God,” Kevin said, eyes wide.\n\n“That I am! Zapped by a toaster huh? Classic. They really should make those things less zappy. Well, glad to have you! Come this way and we’ll—”\n\n\"Not so fast!\"Another voice interrupted. There was a second puff of smoke which cleared immediately to reveal the slim form of a horned red-skinned figure wearing a well-fitted suit and a black surgical mask. “We had a deal, remember? This one’s mine.”\n\n“Ah Lucifer,” God said, smile fading and shoulders slumping. “Always a pleasure. Has it been a million souls already?”\n\n“Yes,” the devil said. “Unlike you, I’ve been keeping count.” \n\n“How about you get the next one? We’re already at the gates and all.”\n\n“I have a better idea. How about we honor our *contract* and I get this one and the next nine hundred ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine after that too?”\n\n“I have an even better idea!” God exclaimed “Why don’t we let him *choose*?” Both turned to Kevin, who was still digesting what was happening. \n\nAfter a moment of silence, Satan interrupted. “See? He doesn't even know what he wants. That's the problem with this whole free-will nonsense. It's the easy way out. Can't make the tough decisions so you pawn it off onto someone else.”\n\n“Come on Lucy, free-will is great!” God said. “Who can really decide for someone better than they can for themselves?”\n\n“How’d you die again?” Satan said, turning back to Kevin.\n\n“I got zapped by a toaster,” Kevin said.\n\n“He got zapped by a *toaster.*” Satan spat, turning back to God. “You really think he knows what’s best for him?”\n\n“That’s not fair,” Kevin said, slightly annoyed. “It just makes toast, how was I supposed to know it’d be so zappy?”\n\n“*Soo* zappy.” God echoed, nodding sympathetically. \n\n“Look, kid” Satan said. “I’ll let you choose. But hear me out okay? You’ve been fed a *lot* of propaganda in your time on Earth. Heaven’s not all it's cracked up to be. It’s lawless chaos. Ask God what kind of healthcare coverage you’ll have behind those gates. Go ahead, ask him.”\n\nKevin turned to God and relayed the question. “What’s healthcare?” God replied blankly.\n\n“Well that’s not fair,” Kevin said, turning back to Satan. “You can’t get sick in Heaven, can you?”\n \nBoth God and Satan burst out laughing. “You’re just a master of marketing aren’t you!” Satan said, slapping God on the shoulder.\n\n“It’s the Catholic church!” God responded, wiping away a tear. “They do it all for me! But hey, who am I to stop them?”\n\n“Free will, I know. Yada yada.” Satan turned back to Kevin. “Look kid, they got diseases like you wouldn’t believe behind those gates. Think COVID was bad on earth? Imagine how bad it is now that you've left your physical body *and* its immune system behind.\"\n\n\"There's COVID in Heaven?!\"Kevin asked, dismayed.\n\n\"Yep. No social distancing either—look at him, he's not even wearing a mask.”\n\n“We subscribe to the herd immunity school of thought,” God said, suddenly serious. \"It's a legitimate model, just ask Dr. Hallengren.\"\n\nSatan rolled his eyes. “You didn’t even know what herd immunity *was* until last week when I asked if that was what you were hoping to achieve!” \n\n“I've *always* known what herd immunity was. It's self defining! You pack everyone together like a herd of zebra and the viruses don't know which of you to get first. Sweden's doing it.”\n\n“First off, that's *not* how herd immunity works. Secondly, Sweden has a centralized healthcare system to back it all up!”\n\n“Herd immunity *and* healthcare?\"God scoffed. \"That sounds a bit redundant if you ask me. Bit of a belt and suspenders approach isn’t it?”\n\n“It’s always the same with you isn’t it? Too lazy to govern effectively, so you sit back, call it freedom, and let everyone fend for themselves. It was the same on Earth and it's the same in Heaven. You can defend it all you want but I know you're just lazy.\"\n\n\"If by lazy, you mean *lazy-fair,* then yes!\"God said, throwing Kevin a smug wink. \n\n\"It's pronounced *laissez faire* you numbskull! This right here is why all your people are walking around hacking up their lungs and soiling their pants in public!”\n\n\"You know what Lucy? Why don't you shove it up your ass. At least my people have the right to shit their pants without getting fined for it! And so some of them have the sacred squirts, big whoop! It's not like they can *die!*\"\n\nThe conversation devolved into a shouting match, Kevin standing idly by in the sidelines watching the two deities battle it out. All of the sudden he felt a tap on his shoulder. \n\n“*Pssst*,” someone said from behind him. Kevin turned around. Hiding behind a tuft of cloud was a portly humanoid figure with an elephant’s head and copious amounts of jewelry. “Heaven, hell, forget about it. What you *really* want is another round on Earth. How's about I send you back as a pig? Their orgasms last 30 minutes, you know.”\n\n***\n\n \n\nThanks for reading! Check out r/Banana_Scribe for some of my favorite pieces." } ]