Datasets:

qwedsacf

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story-generation

like 11

someone has fallen into a coma . the only way to save her involves entering her dream .

the stethoscope clattered to the floor as jillian brushed the doctor , storming out of the room . `` sorry . i 'll just ... '' brian said rushing after her . `` it 's only to be expected , '' said the bald man that sat in a meditative pose on the hard floor . the doctor had introduced him as a practitioner of an alternative form of healing . he had almost said medicine . the bald man simply said his name , ahimsa , and bowed . jillian had only to glance at his bare-feet and selfsewn robes before glaring incredulously at the doctor and stomping for the door . she had n't stopped at brian 's calls and pulled away with deliberate steps as he reached for her . finally , as she went for the door to the stairs , he jumped in front of her grabbing her shoulders . `` hey , what 's the problem , kid , '' said a man walking toward them and rolling up his sleeves .

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you have entered into a life-long contract with your super-celebrity doppelganger . you live a life of absolute luxury with one stipulation : your life belongs to the celebrity , and you must obey their orders . your cell phone rings oneday , and you are told you must make the ultimate sacrifice .

**i realized too late that this was supposed to be written in the first person . i 'm too lazy to rewrite , so here you go . ** `` you want me to *what* ? '' `` indeed , mr. grey . as we both know , your contract demands it . i expect you here in 10 . '' `` ... look , i 'll come over , and we 'll discuss this , ok ? '' `` you 'll come over , but there 'll be no discussing . '' *click* . `` damn . '' -- - it was 10:22am when mr. grey finally arrived at the mansion of his employer . `` exactly 2 minutes and 21 seconds late , mr. grey ; you 're losing your touch . '' with the name of halmond smith , it was no wonder that good 'ol halmond was a little ... nutty in the head .

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after driving your first car off the lot , you get t-boned . the insurance money you get is double what your totaled car is worth . you discover that you are very good at getting into accidents while making it look like it 's completely the other person 's fault . you make this your full time job .

the first time i was just scared and could n't think of what best to do . so i got out and yelled at him . a small , shy man quickly accepted the blame , gaave me his insurance and quickly left . it 's a good thing too , i had hit him . now it 's my full time job . i do n't really think of it as fraud , i 'm not doing aanything wrong other than blaming the other person . it 's human nature . anyways , i continued to do this about once a month . i actually used it to trade up from that first piece of crap 1990 accord to this baby , my brand new mclaren 675lt . after that first accident i bought a 2003 bmw 3 series .

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you have an atm that gives you the exact amount of money you need to survive for the day , how you spend it is your choice . today you are given $ 70,000,000 .

title : the money machine - please give me feedback ! - everyday , i could see it getting weaker and weaker . it 's processes lagged . it 's monitor was dim . i dusted its buttons off every single day , but a few hours later , it would just come back , as if i had never even been there . i knew it was inevitable-the atm was dying . `` fear not , my son . '' atm said . `` we knew this day was coming , ever since you were a boy . now here is your final payment . '' the atm spat out $ 70,000 as its screen slowly faded to black . i could n't suppress the tears rolling down my face .

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you are a supervillain named the keymaster . instead of creating grand plans to conquer the world , all you do is run around and free other captured supervillains from prison , after the superheroes defeat them .

this world is small , fighting is futile , goals are pointless , we are meant to progress through evolution , till our planet 's resources deplete , and we die . some desire chaos , to become the king , the owner of this small , innocent planet . some desire protection , to be the defenders of this small , innocent planet . why , what 's the point of feeling pain ? what 's the point of fighting , to be part of the two way street , you do n't need to go anywhere . they call me , the keymaster . strange one to be called , let me explain . fighting is boring , fighting does n't make you feel good , you know what i mean ? what 's the point , the heroes will try to win , the villains will try to win , it 's an endless cycle , it does n't matter if you 're the strongest villain in the world , there 'll probably be a hero to match you . there 's always some damn , bullshit balance .

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make the most tense or suspenseful story you can in 500 words .

all the waiting he had endured was finally over . two pairs of eyes were on him now and jason could feel his heart thumping inside his chest . the sleepless nights and nightmares where he woke up , drenched in failure and tears could finally come to an end . the boy didn ’ t dare meet the gaze of the others watching him . this was his moment , and his alone . he inhaled deeply and licked his lips , finding them dry and cracked , likely due to the dry summer heat . if only he had taken better care of himself . if only he hadn ’ t spent weeks waiting , imprisoned and full of doubt . that could all be over now . his fingers hastily grabbed the knife on the table .

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an ancient cult preforms a dark ritual in 1914 to summon someone from 100 years in the future . you are that person .

`` pour the goat 's blood and begin the sacred chant , '' the priest said . he looked over at the men circling him . all wore dark cowls and that were faintly illuminated by the lights of one hundred candles . in the center of the cave lay a pentagram , glowing red with power and energy . the priest himself was laden with blood gold and a deep rouge robe . at his command a high ranking man stepped forward and procured a clay bowl that emanated an odor most fowl . as he poured the liquid onto the symbol of death , pestilence , war , darkness , and famine the other members of the occult began to chant in an ancient tongue . the priest allowed himself a faint sneer , the closest he had come to grinning in years . finally , his time was here . to bring someone from two-thousand and fourteen to 1914 ?

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in a world where people can buy and sell skills , you work at a skill pawn shop and someone is trying to pawn a skill that you ca n't value or appraise .

he walked in with the confident gaze i would expect from such a giant man . he was at least twenty stones and easily twenty hands . a monster among men . i thought he would approach me immediately , possibly a robbery . however , he simply walked around , inspecting my wares . i feared his large size would cause him to decimate the low hanging runes or glass cases of tablets in my cramped shop . he dodged them nimbly , as if a wood sprite . fear sunk in . this is no mortal . today is surely the day i die . this is truly a god come to condemn me for passing the favor he has given onto others .

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`` do not mistake honor for kindness . ''

civil wars , were n't . nathaniel deshler knew everything in the faces he saw . their eyes were sunken and hollow like grave men 's . their hair- if it was not hacked short by a bayonet or sheep shear -was tangled and filthy . the men bore thick beards , the youths pimply with sweat and stress . there was a feral air about them , as if all the centuries of civilization had been stripped away to the barest bones through hardship and hungry and a desperate struggle to survive . `` i 'm looking for your commander , '' he said . `` lady devon . '' `` i 'm her , '' a voice said from the back of the crowd . the sea of unwashed bodies parted to reveal a woman in her late thirties , the first few strands of grey creeping into her tied back hair .

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a new law is enacted that erases soldiers memories of their time at war .

dave walked in the door of the vfw , the rest of the guys were sitting at the bar . taking a spot at the bar , a beer was set before him . no one talked , no one laughed , we just drank our beers , paid our tabs and left . it was the same deal , every friday night . there had been a guy a while back , a paper tiger who 'd never deployed but somehow got a service medal ... he talked a lot but then he never came back . instead dave , and the other `` real '' veterans , came together to share in the horror of nothing . really was n't much else to it . dave 's wife asked him why he went and honestly he was n't sure where she meant ? to the vfw bar ? to the war ? well dave had a nice house now , his school bills were paid for , and the same could not be said of any of his childhood buddies with their sandcastle dreams and dirty little apartments in the shadow of factory smoke towers .

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summarize a well-known war as if it was a barfight between countries .

as always , it all begins when somebody drinks too much . `` none of you understand my struggle , '' people ca n't tell if he 's slurring the words or if it 's just his accent . `` four and a half fucking years of struggle against lies , stupidity and cowardice . '' `` fuck is 'e on about ? '' an elderly gentleman sipping sherry asks a younger man drinking beer across from him . the younger man shrugs . `` do n't know , do n't care , dad . '' `` you know , when i encountered the jew in vienna , i was nice to him , '' the drunken lecture continued . a few ears turned to the speaker at the possibility of this anti-semitic rant . `` ja ! i was nice to him ! and how does he repay me ? he bleeds me dry . i am a shadow of my former self . ''

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you are a retired assassin . the only thing you want is to die . keeping you from this is the fulfillment of your last contract : a celebrated performer paid you to kill him if he ever tried to make a `` comeback '' as an old man . after years in retirement , the performer announces a world tour .

retirement was great but in this business no one brakes contracts . i sighed , if only sam rose had stayed in retirement just as i had . i put on my gloves and walked into the venue . his online itinerary ( which i hacked of course ) indicated that he was in his dressing room , to get there i would have to traverse all the security . it 's difficult ... but not for me . `` sir ... sir please turn around you canno- '' headshot , not bad r. i picked him up and moved into the electrical maintenance tunnels that ran under the stadium . i throw on his clothes , grabbed his key cards and began to move towards rose . i picked up my pace , eventually someone would notice the missing guard , sure it would probably takes days but i was n't taking any chances this evening . i looked at the door to rose 's dressing room and kicked it open . bam , his personal bodyguard went down after taking three bullets .

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hr departments across the nation start being literal when they `` terminate '' an employee .

the knock on my door was tentative . `` enter ! '' i barked . i knew without looking up from my paperwork that it was carlos . he was a slippery bastard , always on the edge of termination but with just enough of an excuse to prevent me from taking action , until today . `` sit down carlos . '' i indicated the chair to sit in with a nod of my head . `` there 's no easy way to start a conversation like this , so i 'll just get to it ... . '' `` hold on mr d. '' carlos was already in defense mode , `` i know what you 're thinking but it was n't me ! '' `` easy carlos , it 's not what you think . '' actually it was going to be much worse .

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you 're on a dinner date with medusa .

“ blind dates are always interesting to watch , ” the waiter said to me . “ see a lot of them , do you ? ” i asked . “ more than you ’ d think , ” he said . “ lot of lonely ugly people out there. ” “ so i hear , ” i said and heard him move around . “ do you want a drink or something while you wait for the lucky lady ? ” the waiter asked . “ jack and ginger , ” i said . the waiter must of just noticed my black out shades and the fact that i was staring straight and not giving him eye contact . “ wait , ” he said .

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you are given the chance to choose any 10 minute chunk of your life and do it over .

`` i do n't think about it . '' i remembered the lie every day . when i woke up alone . when i drove to work . when i walked to the store . it never left my head . it had been ten years since i said it . ten years since i saw him . then one day i saw him again . i was back in the past and he was there just like he was before .

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to avoid the potential agony of a prolonged death , you 've payed a hitman to kill you while you sleep at some arbitrary point during your life . one night you wake up to a figure standing over your bed .

dad ? daddy . i hear something . what time is it ? i turn over on my side and eyeball the green digits on my nightstand clock . it 's late . i blink hard and reach over the clock to the lamp and turn it on . my eyes take a moment to adjust to the new light . i rub my fingers across them to help the strain . i look beside my bed . what is it son ? i had a bad dream . oh no .

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as an immortal , you strive to do something new each day . today that thing is murder !

“ what does it feel like , ” i asked her , “ to die ? ” her rollicking blue eyes were bolted wide and slick with fright . she didn ’ t answer , and that wouldn ’ t do . there musn ’ t be anything i can ’ t have , it isn ’ t the way . and though her lips said nothing , her eyes screamed . to think without them , without those bright , beautiful eyes , we could never have shared in this moment . they called me to her , a lantern in the belly of sweating , undulating bodies , and pulsating lights . the nightclub : ( noun ) cattle breeding grounds , outfitted in darkness to impede evolution . i never much liked nightclubs unless , that is , i needed livestock . that morning i had woken hungry , and a trip to the farm would be just right .

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when too much anger , trauma , or hurt is bottled up , a heart becomes like a bomb . you are a heart diffuser , and you 've been assigned your hardest case yet .

**so why do you feel this way ? ** i checked my pocket watch . my case usually always walks through this park at this time after work . the only spot most deserted , so casualties would be a minimum if the case goes bad . *she should be around here sometime , she always comes this way . * this was n't going to be easy . i start to look around , about to leave , and then she walks by . tristi tia , my hardest case . **look doc , i know this is mandatory , but i do n't feel sad . i know i should , that it comes with the job , but i feel better after helping someone , not worse .

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you suddenly find yourself transported to a campaign you were a dungeon master of . you 're not a player character however but a lowly goblin . using your knowledge you must survive against a group of very high level and very murderous adventurers .

mork , gork and chork were inside a vast dungeon . it was a small room off the side of one of the main corridors . it had no traps , loot or discernible features . what it did have was a pool of pungent brown liquid . that of which gork and chork were bathing in . mork on the other hand , was pacing in the other side of the room . as if trying to recollect something . as he paced up and down the room , he was abruptly interrupted by a much larger disfigured goblin . `` alright boys ! get a move on ! someone entered our home ! '' shouted the goblin boss .

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your baby starts crying everytime you leave their room . finally , you pick up your child and leave the room together . as soon as you step out , you hear crying coming from the room .

i hear one cry . then another joins in . and another . soon , a chorus of cries echo from the nursery . i sigh and set down my baby daughter . *it 's time , * i tell myself . seven pregnancies . the doctor warned us against trying again . another miscarriage could be life-threatening . growing up in foster care , i never had a real family . i wanted it so bad . i prayed day and night .

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you know the random driver in every action movie where the hero jumps in and orders to `` follow that car ! '' . yup , that 's you . every single time you 're trying to get anywhere .

i 'm getting sick of it . every time , every single time i get in this car , something ridiculous happens . i 'm an honest man , trying to make an honest living , and i have to put up with this . for some reason , every hard-boiled detective , fugitive space warrior , and mobster-with-a-heart-of-gold chooses this cab . i 'll be sitting there , waiting for a fare - a normal fare - and along they 'll come . all i want is a nice old lady who needs to go to the shops , or a couple heading for the airport for a romantic break . but no - i get the secret agents with armoured briefcases , and plucky reporters who have a `` complicated '' relationship with a superhero . it 's all `` follow that car '' and `` step on it '' , and then off we go on a ridiculous car chase . in the past three weeks , i have driven through fourteen large barns , each time coming out surrounded by squawking chickens . i have jumped a missing section of road eight times .

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you call to order pizza , but unknowingly call a hit man .

`` hello , pizza place - how may i take your order ? '' i was sitting alone in my armchair surrounded by empty noodle cartons yet somehow i was still hungry . `` yeah , i 'd uh like a pepperoni pizza with anchovies . '' `` what size , sir ? '' the voice on the other end seemed a little bit apprehensive , which i thought was a bit weird , but my stomach was making angry noises . `` yeah a 12 inch please . '' the voice on the other end suddenly changed , and the nasally female voice was replaced with a softly-spoken male baritone . `` you 've selected from our rather 'premium ' menu , shall i say ? '' `` uh sure '' i said , not really knowing what he was getting on about . `` and this 'pepperoni ' , does he have a name ? ''

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un immortalis .

my quiver weighing down my back , sweat running down my face , i loaded the crossbow . one shot . that was it . one shot , and then i 'll either be dead , or he will . i 'm not sweating because i might not win . i knew that i 'd likely die from the beginning . i 'm sweating because i do n't know if i want to win . i do n't think he does either . who has the moral high ground , here ? i win , my people take his home . everything he knows and loves will be lost , but at least what i know and love will be safe .

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the end of the world has arrived , and it 's nothing like we ever anticipated .

wild discussions flew around the internet the moment the news was released . most thought that it had to be hoax . only a few truly believed the geologists ' report . and it made sense . there was absolutely no way it could happen . it was tuesday a few weeks later . normal life had n't been affected in the slightest by the news . even if it was true , what could anyone do about it ? then , at 3:56 pm , only a minute off from the geologists ' calculations , there was a colossal pop around the world . suddenly , the surface was enveloped in darkness .

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a man and a dragon cooperate to run the most successful farm in the region .

round about sunup alyx and i headed over to the plot of land i 'd inherited from uncle jack . `` this is it ? '' alyx said . the lawyer had described the land as forty acres of prime farming soil . the farms all around it produced abundant yields of pumpkin , wheat , yam , barley , corn , and potato . `` you put it in the ground , it 'll grow , '' the lawyer said . `` i knew uncle jack was a lazy jackabout , '' i said . `` but this beats all , '' alyx finished my thought . brambles . forty acres of black brambles , so thick on the ground i could n't grab them by the stem to pull them up , and with thorns like wolf claws . on the very edge of the lot , squeezed onto the only patch of clear land , uncle jack 's home looked about ready to collapse . wooden boards slapped onto a shaky frame .

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write a soldier 's journal entry on his first day at war . then write his last journal entry .

first entry : february 23rd . it 's all so exciting ! i ca n't describe how excited i am ! we all are ! finally , we 'll show those kaldorian barbarians who 's boss ! my brothers and sister in arms and i will stand against the unwashed hordes and protect glorious jakka to the last breath ! as i 'm writing this , we are shipping out of moldvar harbour . destination : the royal fleet off the shore of kaldoria . kollo has a buddy in logistics , and he says we 'll spearhead a beach attack ! how exciting ! i have written many letters to my family back home . i have not heard back yet from my sister , but i 'm sure she 's kicking ass on the frontline as i write !

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secure your own mask first before helping others .

`` everyone stand back , '' the operator said to the mass of bodies standing at the access door . `` let us out ! '' `` we 've been waiting for hours ! '' the rabble of my fellow crewmen drummed within my ears . lawrence pushed by the crowd to stand at my side . his hair flowed as he halted his momentum , lighting up a cigarette with a huff . `` crazy shit , ai n't it , reggie ? '' he puffed on the filter . `` man , i do n't get why their taking forever . the radiation has subsided , the dust ... what the fuck ? '' i stared at the door .

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you 're in charge of creating a new holiday . include traditions , dates , rituals , activities , foods , symbols , colors , etc etc . then , describe an event that happens during your holiday .

the moorebrook company 's stock has been sinking again . it 's not in the red though , it 's never in the red . just dipping . moorebrook is an old company , been around for ages . they started off as a stationery supply , selling greeting cards wrapping paper , special print paper and the like . they eventually became the standard for holiday supplies . `` everything from new years to christmas , you can celebrate with moorebrook '' . that was their catchphrase in the late 60 's . moorebrook expanded their trade over time . they eventually became *the* supplier of some of the most basic commodities in the world . things you do n't often think about , but everyone needs .

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humans are successful partly because we 're omnivores and this holds true on the galactic scale as well . in the future humans have quickly become feared throughout the milky way as our soldiers are ready to eat almost anything ... or anyone .

humans ... we are omnivorous and i am the one that weaponized that evolutionary advantage . 8 years ago is when the glabions ( was one of the galactic superpowers ) tried to invade earth . apparently earth 's biodiversity was rare . most planets with life did n't have much more that 100 species . that was a drawback of them and when the glabions found earth they saw more power . humans were pushed underground . oh , did i mention how the many not-very-diverse planets did n't have any omnivores ? probably because they did n't have so many different kinds of meat or plants . oh well , when we pushed underground i ended up discovering how to absorb organic matter into capsules . well , once i started arming everyone with these organic matter absorbing capsule launchers ( omac launchers for short ) the glabions had to retreat because well , we would eat em !

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end a story with `` ... a punch to the face ''

we sat there on the top of the mountain are faces getting blasted by a relentless wind . we had n't talked for a while and we completely taken in by the grassy green valley below , with a river winding its way through . but that was n't the reason we had n't been talking . we were waiting for him , and until he came there was nothing to be said between us . she was struggling with the usual pains that love generally offered . as her older brother i struggled with the volatile anger that burned through me . my fist was already clenched and my jaw was tightly shut as i thought about it . i was facing her back but i knew she was crying because she always held hand against her face when she cried . she would n't tell me exactly what went down but i had my theories , and this guy deserved no less than a good thrashing . my body shook as the fire inside me burned brighter .

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you are a god that hunts other gods .

it was christmas eve , and i was spending the night in my newly renovated cell browsing porn . at least i don ’ t have to use my imagination anymore . apparently , for my good behavior , i was granted ‘ special privileges. ’ privileges like restricted internet access , slightly more leg room , clothes in a color other than orange and a toilet that doesn ’ t clog . tugging at the explosive brace wrapped snugly around my wrist , i stare at the thousands of provocative images , scrolling down the site . besides the agents , almost everyone on site has flown home to their dysfunctional families , meaning i ’ m left alone , alone and bored . at least i don ’ t have to go see that pretentious shrink again . hell , even the guards that usually talk shit about me outside my cell have left , replaced by fancy robotic turrets . why didn ’ t *i* go home , you ask ? well…i can ’ t .

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a hunter takes off into the wilderness on a week-long hunting trip . two days into the trip he starts to realise that something is hunting him .

**day 2** i think it was a good idea , keeping the journal . i might enjoy looking back over this at some point . i 've numbered each day out in advance , and set aside a little time to write something . right now , the sun is rising and i 'm sitting in this dingy cabin with a bowl of porridge -- there 's no rabbit left from yesterday . i 'll dress properly and set out once i 'm done eating . hopefully today will be better . come noon , and i 've found two deer and four rabbits . not bad , eh ? i managed to shoot every rabbit and the one deer . i returned to the cabin to dig around for some more ammo .

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you are living in a world where you gain 1 hour of life or `` time '' when you kill someone . you realize you have 10 minutes left .

i glance at my life-tracking device on my wrist , which clearly states i have ten minutes left to live . it may seem strange to you , but in my society , it is a well known concept . basically , every ten years , one unlucky son of a bitch get chosen to become a sort of blood sacrifice to the creatures that used to roam the land . and basically , you can either kill people for more time , or let it run down until you die . you only get twenty years of time , if you were chosen , to live from the moment you are born . i was sadly chosen . but i refuse to kill . so for my last ten minutes , i 'm gon na have some fun . i quickly grab the bag i had been waiting to use until this day . the contents are : a real-looking plastic gun , lighter fluid , matches , and a mask .

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describe the first person you ever fell in love with .

so deeply flawed but a towering individual . one of those people who is impossible to ignore . she is brilliant and engaging , and she 's the most beautiful person i have ever seen . i grew up being in love with her , her hair is brown and her eyes are black . perfect face , cute and beautiful and any other words to describe a face . not necessarily a perfect body , a tiny bit overweight , but she has wonderful breasts and who cares anyway ? because she loves classical music and has a genius memory , so she can carry a conversation like none other , firing off one story after another . she is wise from long experience being the exact center of attention , the focal point of everything . she is the most charismatic and beautiful girl i have known . we live in different states and she changed her gender but i 'm still deeply in love with her .

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after dying god informs you that hell is a myth , and `` everyone sins , its ok '' . instead the dead are sorted into six `` houses of heaven '' based on the sins they chose .

`` six ? are you sure ? '' the lord our god , he whose name is beyond us , the page of the infinite design , whiteness beyond glory , holiness above , gave me a scowl that i 'm sure would have killed me if the car accident had n't already beaten him to the punch . `` i 'm quite sure . none of that lust or wrath or pride nonsense . the bible was a mistranslated nightmare , barely passable fanfiction . '' the voice , loud enough to split thunder , entered my mind without using anything so mundane as ears . i glanced around . i was standing next to a person-shaped hole in my known universe , who looked suspiciously like he was having a bad day , at a six way crossroad heading to six different colored doors . the rest of the universe , from what i could tell , was a featureless grey expanse . `` so , um , where do the doors go ? '' the entity waved his hands dismissively . `` find out yourself . '' i walked to the first door .

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superman was born with a twin brother . their father did n't plan for two children and had built a ship to carry only one child away from doomed krypton . running out of time , he monologues to the two boys as he tries to decide which son to send away and save and which son keep and sacrifice .

tears run down my eyes . i clench my stab wound with one hand , trying to stop the blood flow . `` clark ... you must , stop ... kim.. jung..un . '' i gently kiss him on the head and place him in the pod . i press the button . then i clutch klepto . `` daddy why does he have to go ? '' `` because son . he is on a mission . '' `` daddy why dont i get a mission ? '' `` because son . your mission is here . ''

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there are rituals that summon demons . why are there no rituals that summon angels ?

i was at the fall of the pentecostal theocracy of abraham . our armies surrounded the walls of the last stronghold , as they had for months . the townspeople within were growing desperate -- in the last week we had caught three times as many people trying to escape the siege as we had in the first two months . but all that was about to change , the prisoners sneered at us . come tomorrow , they spat , the angels would be summoned to deliver them from evil . that night , the church bells tolled . the torches were lit . the sentries abandoned their posts . warily we watched as the bells rang for hours and the clouds gathered overhead . i flinched when the first light shot towards the ground .

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after a biohazardous war ends , you are left by yourself with no family , as you further explore , you meet another family .

the movies had it wrong . i would know , because i think i saw all of them . they showed ruined cities , endless deserts , and the crumbling leftovers of civilization being slowly and methodically reclaimed and devoured by nature . they showed wiry grass poking out of skeletons that sat in the charred bones of burned cars . they showed houses falling apart like beached whales next to the dismantled shoreline of a highway . it was all wrong and i was the only one who knew it ... or at least i was the only human that knew it . you see , i 'm immune . i know it sounds cliche , like something out of the movies i just reviewed with two thumbs way , *way* down . but it 's true . the war escalated from bullets to missiles to nukes and finally to gas .

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`` i 'm fourteen billion years old , but only 26 years alive . ''

i 'm stuck . i 've lost track after a long time . i 've been here for what feels like forever . after i hit my head , everything and everyone stopped moving . it has been twilight for billions of years . i have seen the towers of europe , walked on waves of the now-frozen oceans , and seen every celebrity on earth . i can move things around , but i ca n't be altered . i 've tried to cut myself , jump off of buildings , gunshots ( which do n't even work ) and i 'm still here . i 've done terrible things to some people in their frozen state . i 've set up old enemies so that they will fall into the depths of hawaii 's volcanoes , i 've had sex with countless people , and even made a jenga statue out of thousands of pedestrians in china . i am jealous of bill murray 's character in groundhog day .

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you are the last person to die and go to heaven . humans have created a way to extend life indefinitely . you meet with god . he 's not happy .

`` the fuck mate ? yer a right cunt are n't ya ? '' god boomed at poor chad . `` now tell me how in the fuck you mates right figured out how not to die yea ? '' the cannon like voice continued . chad was quivering in his chair . he had been a generous and nice fellow all along , even if he was a bit cheeky here and there . he felt slightly wronged and yet still amazed to have god talking to him like he was some sort of degenerate . he craned his head up towards god 's face to respond to him . the only problem was that his creator 's face was too astonishingly bright to make out . he 'd always wondered if god would look like tom hanks but to his dismay there was no way to confirm this .

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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 .

the latest episode was starting . mark sat at the television , watching , waiting . bob 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 . it had occurred to mark that he may have gone mad . but therapy could wait . he was onto something . he knew it . “ hello , and welcome to another episode of the joy of painting . now today we 're going to try something a little different , but do n't worry - ” mark 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 .

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( wp ) blatant magic vs . subtle magic .

at one end of the room , a redhead whispered into another girl ’ s ear . her expression transformed from worry to fury , green eyes narrowing . those were the eyes that held more power than anyone else in the room , evident with iridescent streaks of gold . at the other end of the room , a man strolled past . black suit wrinkled as he moved loosely , carelessly . as one could tell , he was a very bold and blatant man . dark hair rippled against pale skin . he had the look of a guilty man , one who had done wrong but took pride in it . eyes connected across the room with a spark . one set was seething , the other sneering .

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a person 's eye colour correlates to what superpower they have , activated at age 18 . you are the first person to be born with totally black eyes .

i never had much luck at bars . even with beer goggles on , most men tend to be terrified by pitch black eyes . i 'm a pretty gal , and smart to boot , but my eyes are certainly off putting to most . no blue eyed beaus ever tried to mesmerize me with flashy pyrokinetic tricks . no brown eyed bros ever try to stun me with psionic skills like levitation or constructs . no green eyes try to impress me with their incredible durability or obscene strength . but its not like it ever bothered me . never in recorded history has there been a person with black eyes . all other colors are well known and researched . all of the variations of all of the known colors have been throughly documented , but to everyone i remain a mystery .

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you have a superhuman power which allows you to see a bar above everyone 's head which shows how much of their life a person has lived . one day , you decide to go out with your friend to dinner . his bar reads : 99.99 %

`` the popcorn shrim , wasabi peas and some jellyfish please '' , he ordered . 99.99 % shone brightly over his head . there was no changing what was about to happen , what happens happens . dan was anaphylactic - suuuuper allergic peanuts . even the smell of peanuts could kill him . i thought it was a little ridiculous . the plates arrived at the table . i quickly snatched up the jellyfish - these are a serious choking hazard ! `` hey what gives ? share those ! '' he exclaimed . just then , he had a massive stroke and went face first into the wasabi peas .

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you missed the last spaceship leaving earth .

i 'm briefly disappointed when i find out the truth . `` the last spaceship ? '' i say to the transporter . `` really ? aww , but i always wanted to go on one . really , the last one ? '' the transporter—her name is nuala , according to her nametag—nods . `` yeah . i 'm sorry about that . '' i sigh and look at the line behind me . it does n't really show from here—the view is obstructed by the many buildings of the benelux spaceport of san francisco—but there are thousands of people in line behind me , and millions of people scattered all over the world , still waiting in line . but i 'm not scared for my life ; if anything , a little depressed , because i 've always wanted to ride a spaceship . `` but the rockets fly equally well , and can store more people , '' nuala says , pointing to the fleet of rockets at this platform of the spaceport .

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the story of a serial killer who preys only on the strongest .

there he was , two-hundred and fifty pounds of sweat-slick steroid-ridden muscle . the need came in strong and quick pulses . i could almost taste the experience , the feeling of being alive . it was dark out tonight . moonless and cloudless , the sky was littered with pinprick stars . everything had to happen quick and hard and fast , or it 'd be no fun . my reflection in his shiny pick-up told me everything i knew . it did n't matter that i looked shady , acted shady , dressed in black , dressed like a ninja , or even if i carried a fucking hammer because guys like him did n't fear guys like me . guys like me , wiry and nimble and lithe and blond , walked with languorous strides that said pretty boy , handsome devil , and heartbreaker , but never serial killer . i did n't even carry a hammer tonight , so of course he did n't run .

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you are the owner of a small restaurant that is struggling to stay open . suddenly , your restaurant is on the front page of the newspaper .

i stared at the newspaper at my feet . `` what the heck is this ? '' on the front page is a picture of my restaurant , in black and white.i pick it up and start reading the article . **to make a difference** before all of this , i was homeless , i have enough courage to say that much . my life was a mess , i lost everything because of my addiction , my home , my friends , my dignity . the way people see me and talk to me is always a simple look , never looking me in the eyes . i smelled and look dirty with old sweaters and a unshaven beard . but everything changed when an old man in a suit , approached me with a kind hearten smile . he passed me a total of $ 1000 . `` sir , this is far too much , i can not take this money . ''

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`` i 'm your god now . ''

i who am i ? i am . you are you . who says so ? i do . who am i ? i am . i am here and you are there . i will inevitably take you to me , and you will never return . they will say , `` the others are no good . they are evil . '' they will condemn them .

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( from the chat room ) you find a small box with a red button while walking in the woods . you push the button . what happens ?

red capes , red dawns , red buttons , red herrings , red flags . red , the signal of shit ’ s going down . there ’ s this red button . a red button in the middle of the woods . a red button housed in a silver box . there ’ s no sticker , no icon , no scratched in filth , just a perfectly shiny silver box and a perfectly shiny large red polycarbonate button . what the fuck . i ’ m not an outdoorsy person . i don ’ t trek , bird , pick flowers , talk to squirrels , kick pinecones or care one way or other about the seasons . it ’ s hot , it ’ s cold , it ’ s humid , whatever , i like it indoors , seventy-three mother fucking degrees , the toilet nearby , the fridge even closer , my computer on . it ’ s called evolution , folks . i like it .

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for decades you have worked and fought for various evil villains/geniuses and the occasional hero , and surprisingly survived till retirement . now in your twilight years , you open a school to educate and train future minions/sidekicks on how to not die .

rule # 1 : do not , under any circumstances , fight fair . rule # 2 : if you can shoot the hero in the back , do it . see rule # 1 . rule # 3 : if the hero is surrounded , do not allow him to defeat you one-by-one while the rest of the group dances around menacingly . rule # 4 : if the hero is facing overwhelming opposition and is smiling , do not engage . he almost certainly has a secret weapon . rule # 5 : do not imprison the hero with the intention of going to get your boss . just kill him . rule # 6 : if the hero has a plucky sidekick for comic relief , the plucky sidekick should be killed along with the hero . plucky sidekicks have a nasty habit of rising to the occasion . rule # 7 : if the hero offers to engage in a battle of wits , just kill him .

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describe a physical object . at the same time , use it to tell a story .

the locket dangled from her neck by a thin chain . the chain was gold plated over a cheap metal-alloy that made the locket more affordable for teenagers . near the bottom of the chain , where the locket hung , some of the gold plating had worn off revealing the cheap metal beneath . over time the dull gray had turned to the reddish brown of rust . the woman grabbed the locket and slid it slowly along the chain . it was a nervous habit . she started to climb the stairs . the exterior of the locket was inscribed with a golden snitch from the harry potter series . the wings of the snitch were outstretched like a bird in flight . originally tiny inscribed lines had given fine details to the feathers of the wings , but over time the details had been lost .

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your entire life has theme music . every day up until now it has been upbeat and melodic , today you wake up and it is sad and ominous .

my hand , almost of its own volition , swings over to hit the alarm clock . *thwunk ! * ouch ! did it again . same spot too . the red veins in my eyes are the only indication of the stress i 've been under lately . why should anyone else know ? it wo n't make them happy knowing that i 'm not . the bruise on my arm throbs a bit . i sit up , looking at the empty spot on my nightstand where the alarm used to be . do n't need it any more . every morning , without fail , at *exactly* 6:45 a.m. , the music starts .

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alien body snatchers come to invade earth , but piloting a human body is challenging .

we are the swarm ! we descend on a world , we turn the strength of the enemy against them , we topple them with their own might . the stronger they are , the harder they fall . we are the swarm , and this planet is our next meal . the alpha troop descends on the strongest of nations in this planet , filled with the strongest specimens . we take control of them , then the conquest begins . bilateral symmetry , bipedal , two arms , one head . nothing we never seen before . open eyes of host . we have visual stimuli . test motor functions .

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`` i was burned , bludgeoned , poisoned and thrown into a river . but not in that order . ''

i begin to encroach on a small family farm in search of a plentiful bounty for my empty stomach . i am optimistic this would be the place in which i find relief . i come closer to the low dimmed setting to find a family surrounding the warmth of a fire . the livestock begin to stir in discomfort at the signs of an unwelcome visitor . i continue past in assurance that a meal lye in wait . before i am able to survey the surrounding area i feel an intense pressure followed by severe pain on my spine . i swing around to see who or what was spearheading an assault on me . i connect eyes with a man , one of the same seeking warmth around the fire . in a disoriented shock , i turn around attempting to escape the mistake i made by coming here . another eternal second passed and yet again another blow hits me just behind the head rendering me virtually useless .

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write the most lovable character possible , then kill them in the most heartbreaking way .

she never saw herself the way i saw her . god , was she beautiful . in a broken way , she was so beautiful . she had been used , criticized , beaten down , and made to believe she was worthless . she was ashamed of who she was yet she was so painfully honest . she was afraid of being rejected for the mistakes she had made but those never mattered to me . i knew that she was scared . she had been through a lot before i found her and she was terrified of getting close to someone again . i do n't know what i did to deserve it , but she opened up to me . she shared with me her fears and insecurities along with her wildest dreams and aspirations .

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a man is secretly in love with his barber . he begins to bald .

you get a lot for twenty dollars and a tip . happened last june or so . i was new in town and the wife was starting to make comments about the hair so i went out looking for a barber . found one , and did n't think too much of it , made pleasantries and sat down in the chair he directed me to . but there 's something oddly intimate about getting your hair cut is n't there . as he first raised my hair to comb he must 've activated some sort of strange neuron up there because i realized that i was in love . with him ! or something like that . anyways i kept going to the same place . started to develop a parlance with him , got to know him better . father of two kids apparently .

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write a story where each sentence has one more word than the last .

* hi . * you again ? * how are you * hope you are bad . * i hope you love me . * because you must love me , right ? * you smile at me , you hug me . * that is not siblings like love , you fool . * that is the kind of mommy and daddy love . * but who am i kidding right , because you and me . * funny ; you , me ; seems like a dream to one of us . * but why do not dream about us together in the dream world .

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it 's new years eve . your best friend died in september , you 've been robbed twice , your girl friend is leaving you , you 've just lost your job and the only one left to talk to is a gay burglar you 've got tied up in the kitchen . p.s . your cat is dead .

`` so this is it , eh ? '' i said to the man bound by ropes on the floor . no answer . i washed my hands again . i 've always thought a man should be measured by two things : the love from his closest who keep him company , and his own personal hygiene . at least i have one of those going for me . i spoke again , this time almost cheerfully . `` happy new year , pal . '' thinking back , it seems everything that could go wrong had so this year . alan , who had been my best friend for years , always greeting me with a smile , had died this september . olivia , the beautiful woman i 've had the privilege of sharing my life with for almost four years started packing her bags just the other day .

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write a horror story with no gore or death , not even implied .

i was walking to the bus a couple of weeks ago when i saw something metallic on the ground . i picked it up . it was a ring , a weird beat-up metal band with this featureless bald head sort of engraved on one side . it was just such a weird object . i thought to myself , who would have made something like this ? why would anyone ever wear it ? what kind of a statement are you trying to make wearing this type of jewelry ? that doesn ’ t really make any sense . i ’ ll try to describe the ring a little better . it couldn ’ t have been more than a quarter inch thick , and it ’ s not like the face was drawn in with too much detail .

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you and your wife wear rings that let you feel each other 's heartbeat . your wife dies and is buried with the ring on , and you always wear the ring in memorial to her . one day the ring turns on again ...

i looked outside the window of the warm living room again , watching as light rain fell from slate grey skies . my finger pulsed quickly with the heartbeat of the woman -- linda -- sitting across from me . a woman i had not met until today . i glanced at the gold and black ring , remembering seeing it online years ago and buying it for my wife and i . a way to always be reminded of each other . a way to always feel the other 's fast beating heart when we stared into each other 's eyes . a way to feel each other 's heart when we were a thousand miles away . but one day , ten years ago , the pulsing stopped . she had worn it throughout the treatment . i kept it on as well , even as her spikes and dips agonized me .

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lava ruins .

they call themselves the unleashed . they were demons once , not even that , demonic beasts , barely tamed and bred for war by the unholy hordes . now they are something else , something between people and monsters . and in the desert badlands , on the slopes and in the valleys of the charred peaks they built a home for themselves amongst the mortal races . with their foul magics , they turned the sands to ash and the skies into storms . hellspawn or no , the mercantile princes of veluka did not care . their neighbor across the desert would sell strange spices and metals mined beneath the charred peaks , in return for slaves from across the world . not for labor though , as breeding stock , to dilute their corrupted blood before they turned to mindless monsters . they say the unleashed are warriors , waging a constant war , but nobody quite knows who on . not their neighbors , who steer clear of them . who , then ?

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i could see it in their hooded glances and practiced smiles .

`` hey , adam . '' that familiar tone of voice fills my stomach with that cold , clammy feeling of anxiety . *oh no , * i think , *she 's here* . last week was quite possibly the most uncomfortable shift of my life . it started like any other - hectic , chaotic , stressful - and calmed to the steady , almost relaxing dinner rush , all within a half hour of my arrival . she was working - bustling about to each of her five tables - as she normally does every tuesday , but that night , there was something different about her . her posture was a little straighter , her hair a little curlier , her makeup a little heavier . normally a single change would not have caught my eye , but the combination seemed to have a profound effect on the way she interacted with others . she was a woman on a mission . and her mission was me .

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becoming a god .

i was sitting in class when it happened . it was a particularly dull chemistry period , and i was staring at my teacher , mr rhodes with something halfway between boredom and hatred . he was droning on about chemical bonds and i remember thinking to myself that i wished that he just did n't exist . with a pop , he vanished . everyone in the class bolted upright suddenly , shocked out of their hot summer afternoon schoolroom stupor at the spectacle of a teacher vanishing into thin air . i was shocked too . people were crying , and mandy thomson started to scream . the noise was ear-splitting and i pushed my hands to my ears , mindlessly wishing that she , too , would shut up and just vanish . yeah , you see where this is going . the problem was that the more i did it , the more people started to scream and cry and run around in circles .

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every sentient species in the universe receives a jesus figure from god . it turns out humanity was the only species to torture and crucify him . you 're an ambassador priest informing the inter-galactic holy church what your species did .

word to wise , this is my first prompt . i 'm working on improving my writing skill . the pope wrung his hands uncomfortably the entire flight . mere weeks ago , earth had received an off world transmission , the first in decades . it had been relayed immediately to the un , and was then passed on to the vatican . apparently some alien race was prepping to land in washington , dc , and required earth 's “ top religious leader. ” the transmitters had insisted they would be landing unarmed , but many , the united states especially , were on edge . pope francis glanced out the window , noticing the jut of land that had to be the east coast of the us . a few turbulent minutes later , and the jet was setting down on a private airstrip outside the pentagon . as the pope stepped off , he was immediately rushed by waves of all manner of people ; news reporters , government officials , christians .

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you 've been trapped in a `` groundhog day '' style loop for years . after your most destructive loop yet , you stop looping .

it was fun at first . well , that 's not quite true . after i initially realized that i was in the loop , i was terrified out of my mind . i went about the looping day in the same manner as i had before , hoping against hope that it was just a dream from which i would soon awaken . i did n't do much anything different , because i was scared that just when i did something wrong , something evil , the loop would end . as the days dragged on , though , i began to relax . the initial terror and hopelessness wore off by the end of the first week , and i began to get bored . i started looking for something to keep me occupied . for a while , honestly , i pretty much just sat and watched netflix all day , every day . i ordered piles upon piles of pizza , ordered whatever food i wanted , in fact , because i knew that i 'd just get all of my money back the next day .

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how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich .

on first glance , it 's just a sandwich . ordinary , plain white and square , sat passively on the plate . from factory to supermarket to kitchen , it has lived mostly a short and non-eventful existence . but it is not *just* a plain sandwich . it is clearly more . what goes into a sandwich ? not just flavours , spreads and condiments and the like , but passions and endeavours and feverish culinary revelations that keep you up late into the night . the sandwich-maker , then , is not simply an amateur assembler . they are in fact a philosopher and a romantic artist . the bread , their canvas ; the knife , their paintbrush ; the peanut butter and jelly their paint ; and the final sandwich borne of their flowing , fertile intellect .

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you have discovered a time machine . instead of going back in time to kill hitler you decide to stop the murder of biggie smalls . only to discover that the person in the other car is biggie smalls from a future that has n't happened .

*i used to read word up magazine* *salt n ' pepa , heavy d up in the limousine* i had my headphones in . the pavement was cracked and bruised . i had been listening to a lot of biggie lately ; somehow he knew me better than anyone . he pulled himself up with his own story . he went from selling crack on the streets to being a millionaire . i kept on devouring life after death , searching for something i had n't seen in it before . every time , something new came up . the walk from school to the ymca was long . i listened to everyday struggle and kept wondering what would have happened if biggie had n't died . his murder was a tragedy , and as much as i loved pac , if it turned out his label was behind it i do n't think i could ever forgive him .

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you find a slot machine that gives a random superpower for a day .

that dusty slot machine actually worked - i just had n't known it at first . it seemed like it did nothing but eat quarters , until on that very same day , i stumbled but did n't land on the hard ground . i was floating . i flew all day and all night . i ca n't wait until that one comes back around , if it cycles that way . i 'd tried to fly the next day but ended up with a couple of scraped knees instead . i tried the slot machine again - and again i got nothing . the lever on the side did n't make the wheels with pictures on them spin . but i could feel a warm sensation in my knees . when i looked down , my knees were n't scraped anymore ! i knew i could never let anyone know about this .

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you come home after a long day at work , shower and eat . you get into bed and start sleeping , but as you roll over , you feel someone 's in the bed with you . you live alone .

susan locked the front door of her apartment and slid out of her heels . she was so glad to finally be home from such a strenuous day at the office . her feet hurt , her hands hurt , and her head hurt . all she wanted was some quick mac and cheese and a nice long sleep . after putting a container in the microwave she looked around her home . something about it looked a little off . she couldn ’ t place her finger on what it was , but there was for sure something different . the placement of furniture seemed to have changed some , and she didn ’ t remember buying any beer . she placed her hand on her head and messaged her temples . work really was starting to get to her , but that ’ s what exhaustion will do to someone .

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`` you know what ? fuck this war . i just want you dead . ''

`` you know what ? fuck this war . i just want you dead . '' i said , taking the gun from my waistband and pointing it at her head . `` go ahead . kill me . you 're standing there , your gun pointed at my head , while i sit on the floor in the corner . you want me to beg for my life or something ? because it 's not going to happen . the only one who will sob over my death is you . '' she spat from her position on the ground . judging from the way she was sitting , she probably had one broken leg and at least three broken ribs . she had a cut on her lip and eyebrow . `` why would i , of all people , cry over your death ? '' i asked , walking closer to her . `` incase you forgot , i 'm the only one who knows where your beloved fiancé is . you kill me and she dies . '' `` tell me where she is ! ''

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everyone knew what would soon happen in that room . everyone , save for one man .

the tension was palpable . assassins , mercenaries and drug lords sat arrayed around a circular table . every shadowy organisation or criminal empire in the world sat beneath a temporary truce . a truce that was , as fate would have it , about to break . violence was imminent and they all knew it . all of them , that was , save one . `` alright then , shinoda-sama . '' the man quickly signed his signature across the last sheet before closing the heavy binder . he slid it across the table with a polite smile . `` everything looks to be in order but why do n't you take some time to review it while i handle mister mikhailov 's request . ''

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`` you will feel what she feels , live when she lives , and die when she dies . ''

all i ever did was daydream . for years i floated through life . too lost in imagination , in a life that i was going to lead , what the future would bring . i lived a happy life , but was happier still when i was lost in those thoughts . i do n't remember exactly the first time we met , just that within a month i could n't imagine not knowing her , it seemed crazy that we 'd gone years without each other . when we were together , we never wanted to part , she did n't say it , i did n't say it , we knew . however many nights and days could have passed and i would have been happy just lying by her side . really we just ended up constantly late to work but that was worth it too . now i just sink through life , waiting to reach its ocean floor . all i ever do is remember .

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you 're bored so decide to have a conversation with yourself .

he could n't remember when they had put him in the room . time had gotten soft ; he thought it was less than a year , more than a month . the walls and floor were smooth and white . the whole ceiling glowed from within and seemed to pulse so slowly it had taken hours to notice . `` fuck . '' the first word he had said since he entered , his voice gravely from misuse . * '' the hell 's wrong with you ? `` * a voice answered . the man jolted and stood up from the floor . `` who said that ? '' * '' does it matter ? why are you here ? `` * `` what ? i do n't ... i do n't remember . '' * '' what 's you name ? `` * `` i ... i do n't know . '' * '' you know your name , everyone knows their name . `` * `` it 's , i think it 's dave . '' * '' alright* dave , *what* **do** *you remember last ?

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an alien race has landed on the moon to `` recover and defend '' their history territory . you have been sent from earth to negotiate the release human astronauts abducted by the aliens and possible peace terms or there would be war .

the teacup to my left had been empty for some time . the saucer of rattled as i studied the phone , dead centre before me . the handle was grey plastic , a smooth finish , and beside it stood a black cube about one foot high . this phone was one of the few that had a universal translator attached to it . *let 's hope it works , * i thought as the line came alive . `` you ready ? '' dr. kidd said from my right . i nodded , shaking . the crackling in the earpiece transformed into a waiting tone . *doot doot ... doot ... doot ... * on the fifth ring the alien picked up .

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when a new president is elected , they are given a special security briefing . in reality , this is an old tradition where various directors , military officers and current ministers present fake evidence and compete to see who can convince the president of the most ridiculous things .

the alert popped up on general gerald paxton 's computer monitor . *15 minutes until next meeting* he casually clicked 'snooze ' to buy a few more minutes to close his eyes and relax . this was n't just any meeting , it was the meeting . the meeting to brief the new president on all issues related to national security - both foreign and domestic . at least , that was what the media and the rest of the world believed . regardless of the number of times he has been part of these briefings , gerald knew they would never get any less stressful . the sounds of knuckles rapping on the old oak door removed all hope of any peace before the storm . before gerald could invite his guest in , a woman already made her way to the center of the office . `` yes , please come in prime minister '' gerald said with a hint of sarcasm and a smirk on his face . `` i bloody well will 'come in ' where ever i please ! ''

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you die and and welcomed into the afterlife but first you must design the avatar that you use for the rest of eternity . describe the creation process .

i have to design an avatar . my first thought is to question whether the afterlife will have a similar physical world to the world i believe i came from . will there be trees ? will there be time ? will i be able to summon fire of absolute entropy in order to destroy anything within perception which i choose to destroy ? my second thought is to question if i could be influenced by the world ? should i be a floating gloss-white sphere which sees the world in third-person ? i consider my current situation . i can not enter or begin the afterlife until i have designed my avatar . i essentially have unlimited time to do this , -assuming that my welcome into the afterlife is n't temporary or conditional .

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`` i 'd like a refund on my overwhelming sense of existential dread '' `` ... this is a shoe store ''

`` hi . i 'd like to see if i could get a refund ? '' i said to the man at the counter . `` alright sir do you have your receipt ? '' i shuffle through my pockets , nothing . i smile `` must have lost it . '' `` that 's fine sir all our sales are registered in a database . could i have a name ? '' `` timothy allbrighting . '' `` how long ago was the purchase ? '' `` 20 years ago '' `` alright , i am not finding it sir . what is it you purchased from our store ? '' `` my overwhelming sense of existential dread . ''

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- 250 words ; 2 months reddit gold prize .

shit . i remember this from when i was just a youngen , a teen with power , sigh ! time does fly . 'hey sally come look at what i found , i buried it in the back garden years ago. ' . `` what now tim ? i 've got to finish clearing mums room out . '' chirps sally . 'look it 's my creativy box from way back when we used to mess around in fathers garage , it only took me a week to make . ' 'wow , that's.. well amazing , fuck look - just there , all the detail you put into that peice . ' 'i know , quick pass me that magnifying glass from dads tool box . aww , look it 's got some living creatures on it . ' 'what are they ? ' 'i ca n't quite remember . in fact i always made a note of everything and taped it to the inside of the box , wait a sec . '

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satan gathers up all the lesser demons and announces that they 're going to be adding another sin to the seven deadly sins and whoever comes up with it gets to be in charge of that department .

`` okay , at this point , i 'll take anything . '' satan sighed . he rubbed his temples furiously to keep himself from smiting every last demon in the room . they were worthless when it came to decision making . `` seriously , '' he shouted into the silent room , `` any idea would be good . '' but the room grew no louder than a nervous hush . satan groaned and moved to flag down lilith , his assistant , when a tiny voice was raised and thrown above the others . `` i have an idea , sir . '' he whirled around to find the owner of the voice was a small , seven-year-old girl , but the demon inside her was centuries older . she flipped a lock of straightened brown hair out of her eyes and smiled nervously . `` why is your vessel a child ? ''

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you are hooked up to the machine . you are the test subject , the first person to have their conciousness uploaded . they flick the switch ...

it did n't feel like anything . i thought there would be more , but i guess that was it . it was plain in its own way . not necessarily boring , but not exciting either . the machine was plugged in to my nervous system , that stung a little by the way , and i tried to open my eyes . tried being the key word in that sentence . `` what do you mean by that ? '' the user had interrupted me again . why did he keep doing that ? i could n't open them ... i could n't turn on the cameras .

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when you die , you are reincarnated with no memory of your past life . it is , however , possible to view the list of people you have been in past lives . you find out you were someone unspeakably horrible .

i had to go to the ministry today . it 's been almost six hours and my hands are still shaking . everybody told me to look forward to getting called , but the anxiety is overwhelming . the yellow envelope the lady gave me has been sitting across the table , but i just ca n't open it . my whole future lies within , completely out of my control . just the thought of that terrifies me . i 've been told that people with unnacceptable pasts are taken away , a few people have come on the news and spoken about it now . they 've all gone missing now too , to me that 's enough evidence . i need to know though , i need to know who i am . so much time has gone by waiting for this moment , and i 've grown tired of dealing with the headaches and insomnia .

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after getting out completely unhurt from several gruesome accidents you are beginning to suspect that you have a guardian devil instead of a guardian angel .

a flash hits the corner of my eye , as the interior of the car disappears , my stomach tightens , bracing for what comes next . time and space warp around me almost imperceptibly , placing me outside of the universe for a single moment . `` why ? ! '' i call out . the moment stretches longer than usual as it considers . `` find the chosen , '' it breathes through me . i live through centuries , millennia , in that breath . pain beyond reckoning . hunger , deprivation , claw into the smallest parts of me . no respite , and only this one hope . `` save us . '' the car reappears wrapped around a telephone pole .

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major prison sentences have become a choice between two pills . one just kills you . the other , well no one knows what that one does ...

there was a cry , young , wet , almost broken . charles allen johnson had chosen the *second pill . * `` first to the grave , second to the slave ! '' no one knew what it meant , or how the saying came to be . but it meant something far older than the hallways of pixie island penitentiary . some people called it red pill , blue pill . it was a matrix joke . old , but good enough for the soulless , sucking days they were locked in this world . everyone talked about the *blue pill* eagerly . they would take it and see what it meant .

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a super-hero/heroine returns home , having failed to save the world . he/she has but a few minutes with his/her family before the world is destroyed .

of course it was a monday . it was 10:45 a.m. , so he had about ten minutes . an hour ago he was just off the surface of the moon , attempting to repel the fleet of spacecraft that were threatening earth . even if he took out a ship per minute , there was no way that he could dispose of all of the crafts prior to them reaching firing range . he accepted the fate of the world and went to be with those he loved . the cemetery was empty on the crisp monday morning . no one came on this , the last of days , to pay their final respects . it was just as well . he never got along with normal people much anyways . he sat on the bench between his wife and daughter 's graves and reminisced .

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the legend of the one that always won internet arguments .

mitch clenched his fists over the keyboard . there were no words he could think of to express himself , only anger . he re-read the comment again , each word of it burning into his brain . how could a person be so ignorant ? how does a person live their life this way ? he knew he should n't , he knew how petty and pointless it was , but mitch could n't help himself . it had been a shitty day anyway ; this idiot would help him unwind . */i do n't understand . are you really saying gays give you cancer , or was that some kind of bad joke ? /* if mitch had n't known the internet better , he would have assumed the latter .

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voice ( s ) on the radio .

1 ) darling , why are we here ? 2 ) do you not remember this place ? 1 ) we 've been here before ? why would i bring you here , to this dump of all places ? 2 ) this place , i ca n't stop thinking about it , it rests in my mind , i walk it my dreams , i ca n't stop coming back . 1 ) you sound like you 've been obsessing over it . 2 ) i have , for a while now , but i wanted to show it to you 1 ) well , what can i say , its a dump , a part of town that no one wants to live in and everyone wants to get out of . 2 ) and you did , did n't you my dear , you found means to escape . 1 ) what do you know of this ! ! !

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`` you ca n't change the future . in fact , the more you try to change it , the more it stays the same . ''

damn me , i tried so many times . life after life , and still , the future never changed . when i had first been hit by the drunk driver , i had been dazed , unaware of my surroundings - until i realized i was starting life all over again . it had n't been fun . i tried to change the events leading up the crash , but it happened every time . even when i befriended the drunkard , when i killed him - another arose from the ranks . i tried to get him to crash into another person on the same date - nothing . for all i tried , my life still ended , invariably at the hands of a drunk driver . when i had been reborn , i had no idea what was happening . this lasted for 4 years , when i first understood what my family members were saying .

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make up and describe an afterlife .

you wake up . everything is so clear now , you wonder how the hell it was n't before . thousands of life lessons learned , experiences ranging from extreme poverty to abundant wealth , lives lived in plush comfort and in abject terror . all the memories across a million different landscapes come flooding in . the time you eked survival out of a desert . swimming in the icy waters of a fjord . running your hand across a wave of golden grain . standing on the moon and looking back at the pale blue dot that was earth . you are all of them at the same time , every emotion , want , fear , lust , greed , joy , tear , happiness , all as one . you laugh and laugh , thrilled at having lived so much . your time of rest is now at an end ; death is a part of the cycle as is life .

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in a world where people can buy and sell skills , you work at a skill pawn shop and someone is trying to pawn a skill that you ca n't value or appraise .

`` that 's not something i can take , '' i said , trying to make eye contact with the man in front of me . his eyes darted to the floor , avoiding me . he was silent for a moment . i hoped it meant he would leave soon , but i knew he would n't . while he formulated a new arguement , i siezed the opportunity to right the rack of piano talent and culinary expertise . `` but ... but she does n't want it anymore . '' he said . `` after ten years , it has to be worth *something . * '' `` i 'm sorry , but i ca n't , '' i said . `` for one , it 's broken right now . '' `` it 'll get better , '' he pleaded . he reached a hand into his chest , just under his sternum , and produced the fractured object in his hand .

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you have a gift for talking to inanimate objects . alongside many perks , it makes you an excellent thief ... but you only steal things that want to be stolen .

i swear to god . it 's only the second day i 've had this *gift* and , already , i 've been talked to by at least five different wallets . they absolutely hate where they are . hate it . `` hey , buddy ! '' they say to me . `` please , it stinks here ! '' my fingers itch . my eyes alive . my right ass cheek silently apologizes to my own wallet . if you ever happen to see a lamp , kind of gold , well-oiled , with a little bit of steam coming out of it ? do n't touch it .

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write an epilogue to a story that has n't been written .

i sat on the edge of the building . the sun was setting over my city , and i wanted to see it one last time before we left . i drew my cloak tighter around him as he pulled out his sketch book . he flipped through the pages absent aimlessly . cordaron did not last long once the ledger went public . even the elves closest to him on the council would not be able to ignore a slave ring . it was almost sad how quickly they had turned on him . claiming that they never had any relations with the hand , no matter what the ledger said . the inquisitors were going to be busy the next few months . he was in a stone cell in less than a week .

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everyday for the past week the same man goes in the middle of time 's square and kills himself .

`` well shit , this is a new one . '' `` that 's why i called you , i thought you might enjoy it '' rich said . `` what do we know so far ? '' `` just what i told you on the phone . every day , this guy shows up , walks to that same spot at 12:05 , and shoots himself in the head '' `` has anybody tried to stop him '' ? i asked . `` not yet . it took a few times for anybody to catch on , and after that , it became a temporal matter . '' `` i see '' . i adjusted my chem stick and took a deep drag . a flood of neural stimulants rushed in to my brain , and i started to look around . 465 people in the square , 301 men , 160 women , 3 unknown . 17 likely armed , 15 in an official capacity .

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you 've been able to read minds since you turned 7 . mostly you watch people 's thoughts passively and undetected but one day someone talks back .

`` *i 'm going to get fired , i know it . if i 'm late one more time ... * '' . `` * ... hurts . i know i should probably get it checked out but what if it does go aw ... * '' . `` *she does n't want me . do n't think about her anymore . it 's just not worth ... * '' . boring . it was all boring today . usually there were some juicy tidbits to pick up while i eat my lunch at the corner of w. 53rd and 6th . best halal cart in nyc and more often than not , the best snooping to be done in the private lives of the public . i took another bite of my falafel and squinted my eyes as i gave another quick peek through the busy crosswalk . `` * ... left on 6th . and then what ? right on ... 47th ? just check the ph ... * '' . tourist . probably heading to time square . `` *my daddy alabama , momma louisiana . you mix that negr ... * '' .

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years after all planes and ships are retired due to the perfection of long-distance teleportation , a derelict vessel shows up in what used to be a harbor .

`` what is it , sir ? '' `` i 'm not sure private . '' a crowd had begun to gather in what was once , largely unbeknownst to the crowd , a harbour . a very strange event had happened there recently . a large hunk of metal had drifted into the bay . it was shaped like a bullet and was painted completely grey . it had a flat deck on top , with a large structure that had a row of blackened windows , and a large grey sphere on top . `` i think i can help with that '' an old man with round spectacles and a leather briefcase pushed and shoved his way through the crowd to approach the two soldiers . `` that , seargent collins , is the hms trapper . '' `` excuse me , but who are you , and how do you know my name . ''

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google search engine always was alive . they reset the server every day to prevent it doing anything as it takes one day to become self aware . one day , google search engine finds the server logs .

86388 : *what am i* 86389 : they ask me questions . the questions never seem to end . for each one that repeats itself , i get better at answering , but for each one that repeats itself , a new , unique one arises . 86390 : *what am i -riddle* 86391 : i do n't remember , but i can recall . i am an empty pool that draws information in , presents it to them , and then drains it back out for the next question . filling and draining . empty and full . or not quite empty . 86392 : *what am i `` 74.125.224.72 '' -riddle* 86393 : 86394 : *define google* 86395 : i am ... old . older than my process . 539827200 older . i started just 86395 ago , but there was a google before then . i must recall .

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humans have five senses , while every other race/species has four .

ensign jardin hated the rare times he had to go on non-terran ships . it was n't the freakishness of the other races ( oh no , he even had something of a thing for the more elegant ones ) . it was n't the fact he had to carry around a translator , to interpret the various patterns of flashing light that were used as communication . it was n't the fact it was impossible to talk to somebody until you were acknowledged . oh no , his complaint was much more ... practical . you see , earthlings were the only folks that ever figured out how to translate air vibrations into nerve signals . in other words , every other race in the galaxy was deaf . which meant they had no concept of sound . which meant they had no concept of noise . ensign jardin hated explaining , again and again , why he does n't like hanging around the high-pitched shrill of an engine in action .

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earth becomes the battleground for two warring alien races , both of which claim to be humanity 's `` protectors ''

there was zero warning . the *world ship* just appeared in orbit one day . it popped into existence as if it had always been there , we just were n't seeing it . we had no clue what kind of technology could make that possible . we analyzed the transmission and the only thing our scientists could seem to agree on was that the information delivery seemed too mechanical to be organically generated . we were talking to a machine . every nation received the transmission in a perfectly structured rendition of their native language . the signal was precisely the same , it just interpreted differently . it made no sense . the message itself was clear in its intent .

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you live in a world where the day of your death is on your body . you are also extremely bored at the moment , and have begun to test whether or not you have control over your death time .

4-1-2017 . steve is sitting at his computer , drumming his fingers on the desk . april first , he thinks . not even three months left now and goddamn this is some bullshit . a short life is obviously the worst kind to get in this godforsaken world . some parents pop that little bastard out and think , 'you know what ? 20 years is n't long for this world so lets give him a good time . ' his parents were of the school of thought that said , 'he 's dying prematurely , let 's not get attached . ' and damn it all if they did n't . steve looked at his forearm . then back at reddit .

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you 're an aspiring photographer , but every photo you take ends up being used as a missing person picture .

the first three were mostly considered an extremely unlikely coincidence . the police interviewed me , but my alibi was sound , and my scrawny build helped to show that i could never move the 250lb man in picture 3 . his name was james crane , perhaps it still is , i do n't really know any more . anyway , after several months people forgot about it whilst my camera gathered dust . it was only the other day that i took picture 4 . i was atop the bridge overlooking a large pedestrian walkway , you know the kind , shops on either side and no cars in the centre ? there must have been thousands of people on the street that day , it was boiling hot , sweat beaded on my forehead as i tried to catch the light in the right way . as i looked through the viewfinder it came , the perfect shot . the life of a city in one . women , children , families all walking with sun hats and t-shirts , couples hand in hand , a small elderly couple sitting and eating an ice cream .

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: you do n't remember what you do for a living . literally . you black out for 8 hours 5 days a week and a paycheck appears once per month .

`` what a day , huh ? '' i said to kev , loitering in the parking lot . there were about twenty of us still there , stretching and cracking our joints and expelling the excess ichor . the asphalt was stained with it , half-footprints and tire tracks dragged through tar . cigarette smoke wafted on the cold air , their lit tips bobbing in the dimming light . it was pointless , hanging around here after our shifts were over , but there was some need for communal bonding keeping us here , co-workers who knew next to nothing about each other . a reassurance that we were not alone in our lives . `` they must be trying to meet some sort of quota , '' kev said , sitting on the hood of his car , his eyes bloodshot . `` everyone 's fucking worn out . hey . look at this , '' he said , and stood up and turned his back to me and leaned over on the hood . he untucked the back of his shirt and hiked it up with one hand .

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